Knoxville journal. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1874-1986, 1875-04-22
JERRY, THE MISER.

JERRY, THE MISER.
1t was cobbler's shop, breaking the
row of small private houses in shabby
suburban street. How it came there no
body knew. What is more, nobody cared
Near the door on this particular after
noon were two females, the one elderly,
the other graceful and young; both in the
deepest mourning. In front of it were
two London street Arabs, as ragged as
mirthful; before it stood the oldest being
imaginable-a little old man, about four
feet high, with not over-clean face,
iron-gray hair, on which rested worn
skin cap, shaggy brows, rather bow legs,
and dirty leathern apron. In irate
tones he was addressing the boys:
"On with you, you young rascal! If
you come playing your hop-scotch and
Sally-come-ups before my window again
I'll fay you alive"
Before the muscular fists the boys fed,
hurting back derision. "Well done,
Jerry-old Jerry, the miser! YAH"
The cobbler-for he hardly merited the
more emphatic title of shoemaker--paid
no heed, but, glancing sharply up from
his bent brows at the two women, asked,
"And what may y0u want?"
ave we see," began the younger,
looking timidly toward the square card
in the window, "you have apartments to
let"
"No, I've rooms-ro0ms don't know
nothing of apartments; | amt up to
them-nor the rooms amt neither. Do
you want to see 'em?"
"We did wish"
"All right; come along!''- and the lit
tie man swung round on his heel.
The two women, hesitating, looked at
one another.
"We had better see them, mother, "
said the younger, with wan smile OF
worse than his bite, and all the other
places are so dear"
Following the cobbler through the
shop, he led them upstairs to the rooms.
There were two, communicating by a
door with each other; they were poorly
furnished, but clean. AS the women
looked at them the cobbler stared at them
silently.
well" he asked, "what do you think
of them?"
"They will do very well" answered
the widow. It's-only-the price!"
"Six shillings week-in advance"
"Six shillings!" calculated the girl
"Do you think it too much"
"On the contrary, 1t is cheap"
You know lot of the world to say
that. How do you know / sha'n't clap
on the other shilling?"
81 don't; butt should not fancy you
would" ., -.e,..uoo, , ,.r.n ,,s
widow. .... .........
Don't want any-you pay in advance
and as, whenever you leave the house. it
must be through the shop, you can't well
take the furniture without my knowing
Is it settledg"
IF you please; here is the first weeks
The cobbler took it, scrawled out a
receipt, nodded and left his dodgers to
themselves Seated again on his bench,
meditatively, he scratched his grizzled
chin and contemplated the six coins in
his horny palm.
1.-TWO bobs week lost to-day" he
remarked. Jerry, you miser, how could
you do its"
The cobbler's dodgers proved very
quiet. They did not interfere with their
landlord, and he, apparently, did not in
terfere with them. His rent was paid to
the day.
They rarely spoke, save exchanging
the ordinary morning and evening salu'
tations when the daughter went through
the shop. The mother never LETT the
house. But Jerry, like most cobblers,
was man of observation, and he made
such comments as the following:
"She's a beauty, she is; but awful
white and sad. It's my opinion it's hard
AZ. ~ . /, of a "
Then, when the girl went out earlier
and came home later, even with sadder,
more depressed expression, he said: III
tell you what it is, Jerry; she's seeking
work and doesn't get it" :,
One evening, a few weeks after Mrs
Weston and her daughter rented the cob
bler's apartments, the latter entered the
shop later than usual
The yellow lamp was flaring dismally,
and Jerry, boot on his knee, was marc
at work. After the customary saiuta'
tion the gira was passing on, when the
cobbler's voice arrested her.
AZ say, your mothers Ill, amt sheg'
he asked, nursing his knee with both
arms.
"Yes, Mr.. Crayshaw, am sorry To
say she has been for some while ailing.
Sh.--she---" and the young voice trem'
bled with tears-"is very weak"
"Then you must give her lots TO eat
responded Jerry, staring out OF the WIN
dow. "The best thing for weak people
ia a nice roast fowl and bottle OF wine
why dos't you give them herr"
If wish was able, or even to provide
her less expensive dainties; but-cut-'
and the tears fell fast" cannot"
"Ah. that's the fault, you see, OF hav
ing no money. Good evening"
He resumed his work, and the girl
scarcely cheered by this little episode
went, with heavy heart, upstairs.
Mrs. Weston was so i'll, she was lyinf
on her bed. The candle was in tn
room, ana in the parior crate burnt