The Lake County star. [volume] (Chase, Mich.) 1873-current, 1875-11-11

Rogers.
He only groaned again.
At this moment came the paper-man
knock, and, with a sudden revulsion {
feeling, he rushed to the door.
He took the paper into his shake
hands, and spread it on the table, an
the first words that met'h eyes were
"777-Capital prize, f2,000."
The effect of this announcement o.
Mr.. Rogers was tremendous. He starte,
to his feet and danced about the room
He shouted Huzzah I" and gave thre
cheers, as though he had been at a politi
cal meeting. Then he rushed to tn
table where his boys copy-books la,
piled, and, seizing them one by one
flung them into the open CRATE, yelling
No more school teaching! No NOR
slavery! Huzzah!" -.
Mrs. Rogers, weeping and wringinl
her hands, besought him to come to hi
senses, and felt fully assured that he
husband had suddenly become ravinl
maniac.
Finally he finished by throwing tn
butterfly pen-wiper on the top of th
fire, and falling into chair weeping.
Then little Mrs. Rogers came out Of he
corner, and, with both arms around hi
neck, besought him to tell her .wha
allied himsA.A-&AA ~ 81
"Seven hundred and seventy-seyen
Capital prize" said Mr.. Rogers. "Pv'
drawn it, Esmeralda p
Esmeralda rushed for the paper, fount
the list of prizes, read the announce
ment, and sat down gasping for breath
"That's why you burnt the copy
books" she said. '"But OH why need
you have burnt my pen-wiper? 1t wa,
so pretty! l declare l could save it
/ believe it's only scorched."
But Mr.. Rogers was not quite himself
-" Hang pens, pen-handles, and pen
'wipers!" he said, and jammed his boot
heel into the Goals. "I'll never touch
one again."
Mrs. Rogers felt hurt, but she still
made allowance for her husband and
the fact Of the prize was just beginning
to dawn upon her. ,aha. .7r7-s
care you sure T' said she. "Oh /! dc
show me the ticket! Perhaps you've
made mistake. Seven hundred and
dear! can't believe it,"
"Ill show youp' said Mr.. Rogers,
.wiping his forehead. Here, Esmer.
aida p'
He walked into the little bedroom,
and knelt down by his trunk. He felt
down to the bottom. He felt at the sides.
He tossed things out. He glared wildly.
"It's herer' he said. 81 know it's
bora. I,,,t oov,< 6nJ -
ooh, Rogers" cried his wife, "what
was it like ? Tell mel"
Yellow--square-dirty. Esmeralda
you haven't done anything with itT'
Esmeralda gave shrek. She flew to
the CRATE. '' y - '.-' q =. '.'' y
"The pen.wiperl Save it." she
Hang the pen-wiper! ~ cried Mr..
Rogers and he jammed his heel into the
Goals once more, and the flame burst hot
and red over he halfburnt butterfly and
consumed it in an instant. "Can't you
think of anything else but that con-
founded pen-wiper? The ticket Look
for it, Esmeraldap a
cts in the butterfly! How did /
know? you never told me! l thought it
was an old card! - said Esmeralda. "Oh
why didn't you save it?'
In the butterfly? What butterfly i?
cried Mr.. Rogers, staring about him.
" Butterfly, pen-wiper! said Mrs. r.,
and tainted in q corner.
1t happened to be Saturday. The
school had holiday. All the day long
the master sat and stared at the fire. All
the day long the wife wept and bemoaned
herself. He took no pity on her. He
had said:
81 hate you, Esmeralda, and never
can forgive youI'
And she thought of suicide.
They had no dinner. At night she
made tea, and they drank it with averted
faces. Then she crept away to her little
spare bedroom upstairs, leaving him by
the fire. Twice in the night she listened
over the stairs. He was pacing up and
down, talking To himself.
1t was dreadful night for both. But
whether nights are sad or happy, morn
ing comes, and---breakfast time.
The church-bells rang sweetly; but
neither of that wIetched pair went to
church.
1t never could be forgotten-that mis-
erable Sunday-by either of them. And,
worst ofall, Monday morning was coming,
and the schoolboys, and the work of the
day.
About dusk Mr.. Rogers bethought him
to walk out. Generally they walked out
together. Now, Mrs. Rogers sat and
heard the voices of The people in the
street, and felt, as she said to herself, as
though she were divorced.
When Mr.. Rogers returned his tea was
on a stand, and Esmeralda was shut up
in the spare bedroom again. Ir17 ve
Both arose next morning, unrefreshed
and miserable. She felt like criminal !;
he as the very vengeful ghost of the
foully-murdered man might be supposed
to feel. He asked himself aloud num-
Der of singular questions: "Why do
men marry idiots, who make pen-wipers
of two thousand pounds T' "Wby
didn't she poison me2 Better that than
beggar me!' he said, still to himself,
still aloud. "But she shall suffer for
this" -..-
And then Mrs. Rogers wept. Her
poor eyes bulged out Of her head. There
was big, swollen vein down the middle
of her forehead. She was undoubtedly
the most wretched of little women.
As he slipped his coffee, and she cried
into hers, the morning paper flew into
the window, which stood open. 1t was
the mans way of saving time. 1t fell
at Mr.. Rogers feet. He took it up and
opened it, with bitter remembrance of
his last opening of the paper. And
these were the first words that met his
eye:
SPECIAL LANNoUNcEMENT.--Th managers
Of the lottery desire TO rectify grave mis-
take in Saturdays report. No. TT did not
draw the capital prize. IL was drawn by No.
775. The fault is the printers.
Hang the printer !" cried Mr..
Rogers. Esmeraldap
"Oh |" said Esmeralda. :.
"I forgive you, my dearP said Mr..
Rogers. 8 - - =
"Pll never say another word to you
about it--never
ooh! how noblep sobbed Mrs.
Rogers.