Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1874-02-12
HIS LUCKY NUMBER.

~; very like indeed; and yet because
I chose the number without a flourish
and long leg, am here to day and
have had q long and happy ife-
should have been the occupant of &
suicides grave 10 many years ago h ad
chosen twenty-nine.
II really can't;understand," said. ],
"Was it q lottery or q draft, . con
scription, or what9 Was it game
was it,"
"It was the number on the door,
said the old gentleman. Wait q mo-
meIt III tell You all about it.
II was very much in love; everybody
is at some time in his life. At twenty.
five I was desperate. Talk about
Romeo! It was nothing to be compa1.
cd with me.
"I'm not ashamed Of it. She was q
worthy object. Not only because she
was beautiful, but she was good and
amiable, and such singer. She sang
soprano in the church choir. And
have heard strangers whisper to each
other, els there really an angel up
there2" When she sang her part alone,
clear and sweet and flute-like her voice
was. I've never heard it's equal
"Wen Iloved her, and I thought she
loved me J.; but I wasn't sure. I court.
ed her q good while but she was shy as
any bird, and I couldn't satisfy myself
as to her feelings. So I made up my
mind to ask and know for certain.
Some old poet says:
"He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts sre small
Who fears to put It to tho touch,
And win or lose It all"
"Iagreed with him; and one evening,
as I walked home from little party
where we had met, with her on my
arm, I stopped under . great willow
tree, and took her hand in mine, and
said:
"Jessie, love you better than my
life-will you marry met"
1 waited for an answer.
She gave none.
"Jessie," said, "wont you speak
to mel
Then she did speak.
"No-oh, dear, no !"
II offered her my arm again, and
took her home without word. She
did not speak either. She had told me
before that she'd start with the dawn
to visit an aunt in New York, but did
not even say goodbye at the door. !
bowed that was all. :3Then when she
went ont of sight, and I stood alone in
the village street, I felt desperate
enough to kill myself.
"What had I done to have 10 cold a
refusal2 Why should she scorn me so2
Oh, dear, moi Igrew furious as 1 re.
peated the words.
"Yet it stung me all the same.
tossed from side to side of my bed all
night, and thought could endure it no
longer. But 1 would not pain and dis.
grace my respectable relatives by COM
mitting suicide in the place wherein
they dwelt and were we'll known and
thought of. would 60 to New York
even then . very large city-and
seeking some hotel, register an assumed
name, and retiring ct night with . bot
tie of laudanum and brace of pistols,
awake no more, and 40 be rid of my
misery. arranged my affairs to the
best of my ability, and received an
imaginary letter from friend in New
York requesting my presence on . mat
ter Of business. I burdened myself
with no unnecessary luggage. What
did an unknown suicide wanto of another
coat and q change of linen2
II kissed my mother and sister and
startled my grandfather by an embrace,
started and upon what I mentally called
my last journey, with determined
spirit.
"There was certain hotel to which
many Of the people of our village were
in the habit of going. This I avoided.
Another chosen athazard seemed to be
better. ThitherI walked, determined
to leave no trace of my destination to
those who knew memo clue to my
identity to those who should find me
dead.
I had no mark on my clothing, no
card, paper, or letter with me l had
torn the hatter's mark from my beaver.
As asceuded the hotel steps felt, so
to speak, like one going to his own
funeral.
A grinning waiter bowed before me.
A pert clerk lifted up his head and
stared. I was an ordinary traveller to
them, that was evident.
II was late in the evening; the place
wore an air of repose. Laughing and a
faint clink of glasses in an inner apart
ment told of some conviviality. One
old man read his newspaper before the
fire. Nothing else was astir.
I asked for room. The clerk nod
ded.
Cd" you care what floor Z" he asked.
shook my head.
..Number twenty-nine is empty" ho
said, and tossed key to the waiter,
whom I followed at once.
We reached the room by two flights
of stairs. Atits door the waiter pushed.
"Though he said twenty-nine'' he
muttered. 1.-THE key is twenty-one. ~
Then open twenty-one with it," I
said II don't care for the number If
tbs rOOm."
"NO. sir-tO be sure. sir" said the