The Rutland daily globe. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1873-1877, 1875-07-19
The Little Green Pocket Book,

JOhn singleton stood on the street cor
ner, waiting for his car. Business hours
were over; he was going home-a bachel-
or's home in a clearinghouse. but none
the less grateful to his imagination, just
then. A fine rain fell, tile pavement was
clogged with sticky, half-melted snow, and
altogether the evening was as comfortless
the cheering hope of warm suns and dry
streets is Immediately at hand.
The jingling car came by, crowded, as
always at that hour of the day. Mr.. Sin
gleton had to run half square in the mud
to catch it, proceeding which in no way
improved his temper. He clutched a strap
and glared gloomily at the ladies who mon
opolized seats, 1esentful. as business man
is apt to be, of the appearance of women
in public conveyances at half-past five in
the afternoon. Keeping his eyes on the
straw under foot, he paid no attention
whatever to his neighbors-if, indeed, one
can be said to have such in horse. railway
carriage.
Sixteenth street-Twenty-f fourth -Thir-
y-second-Fortieth. The car emptied rap
idly. AS the last lady left, and rose to get
out, small, green book became visible,
half hidden by the folds of her gown.
81 beg pardon--vou have dropped some
thing" said John picking it up.
"Sir?"
"This book-you dropped it,"
The old lady looked acidly, first at the
book and then at John. ''The article is
not mine,' she remarked, frigidly. Then
she got out.
Mr.. Singleton was the sole remaining
passenger. His impulse was to hand the
book to the conductor, but a glance at that
worthy's face checked him. "Better ad-
vertise," he thought; and signalling the car
to stop, he alighted in the mud of upper
Broadway.
His landlady opened the door in ner-
vous futter. "Oh, sir, it's you at last.
There's a Geographic boy waiting for you
ever so long"
Sure enough, there sat the boy; and the
result of his message was that in half an
hour John Singleton was speeding on his
way to Western New York by the night ex-
press, a hastily packed satchel under his
feet, and his head full of other business
than that of finding owners of lost prop
erty. The little green pocket-book re-
NAMED behind in the pocket of the Office
coat, flung aside at the moment of depart
| ure.
There it might have remained for months
| it, diving one day, man. fashion, after some
encounter it. This was fortnight or SO
after his return.
"Hello what's this? said he. 1t was a
moment before he recollected. "Bless
me this is too bad. l had forgotten the
thing completely. l must be looking up
the owner, if there's enough in it to pay
for an adv ertisement."
lie released the elastic strap and opened
| the pages. There was no money, no place
for any. The little book was diary,
shabby, green bound, with no name on the
utle.page. Most of the leaves were blank,
a few only being scrubbed over in light,
girlish handwriting. John glanced over
these in search of a clew, and pretty soon
growing interested, drew his chair to the
fire, cooked up his feet and proceeded to
read regularly.
The diary began:
October 5.-Last night, Alice and Tom
and went to DR.. Bellows lecture. 1t was
interesting. He said that the great thing
in life is direction, that is, that no matter
how far Off our aims seem, if our faces are
only set towards them, we are sure to get
there some day. In the very middle of the
cold winter, he said, we turn corner and
begin to go toward the spring, and it is as
il we were there, because we are certain.
That is beautiful. l shall try to recollect
it when things seem especially contrary, as
they do sometimes"
October 81 have been making my
winter bonnet, or rather warming over the
old one, for it is Alice's turn to have the
new this year. She ought to, always, she
has to see such stylish people in the houses
where she teaches. The old brown felt
doesn't look bad, considering 1t is its third
appearance. I've steamed the velvet, and
curled the feather with hot penknife, And
tucked in little blue bow, and Tom sayi
it's gorgeous Tom is always funny about
my things. The pudding Tom likes sc
much;
Take eight large baking apples, pare
core, and lay them in deep dish. Put q
little sugar and a mite Of cinnamon in each
Soak a teacupful of tapioca in quart o.
luke-warm water for an hour, then pour on
and bake till the apples are pink and ten
der. Milk and sugar.
marianne gave me this recipe. Ton
says he wishes he could have 1t three timel
week, but tell him apples are very ex
penslve-"
November 1--we been to a party
, quite a large one. 1t was at the Almys
. Ellen Almy asked me, and papa said
might for once. because it did no harm I,
,, see the vanity of things. think the van
|. ity of things is very pleasant There wa
: a great discussion over what should wear
!; Alice invented me trimming fer my pop