The Rutland daily globe. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1873-1877, 1876-05-13
,Ria's Story.

1t happened more than nine years ago
but | remember every bit Of it.
The weather was cold and dampish that
spring and Jenny's lame hip used 10 hurt
her so much, after she had been out, and
would keep her and me both awake nights,
with bathing of it, and plying her, poor
dear that after a while she took to stay
ing at home the most of the time, and i
managed the business of the FIRM.
The business was shoe strings and corset
laces on the curb stone. The firm was
Jenny and me.
Sister? Bless you, no! Jenny was no
chick nor child of my family; but somehow
after we got acquainted with each other, il
seemed as if our plans ran together and
first thing we knew, we were firm-as
said before, shoe. strings and corset-laces
on the curb-stone.
Cheap enough they were, too-four for
cent-and more of your aggravatng slip
perry kind, neither, that were always com
ing united.
Jenny she says to me ono day, "Ria,"
says she, 1--WE mustn't sell slippery shoe
strings if we want to please our custom
ers"
"All right" says land we never did:
Most DAYS we had good luck, especially
ed plenty of shoe-strings-;hem that didn't
wear top. boots, | mean
There was one boy that used to come as
often a two or three times week 10 buy
shoe-strings particularly on days when
Jenny was with me. | asked him one day
if he didn't use up his shoe-strings pretty
fast, and he said he didn't put 'em in his
shoes, he tied up his lead pencils with 'em,
and then, if he couldn't pick the knots out,
he just cut 'em loose.
He was such 4 nice, hearty looking boy,
with curly hair, and bright eyes, (grey they
were) with smile full OF mischief; but it
was kind and pleasant, too. He had freck-
les besides, but that didn't hurt him any
such nice, honest looking ones they were.
I'm freckled myself He might have been
about thirteen years old, leastways he was
young to be in the High school; but his
head was big,.pnd | have heard folks say
that big-headed boys do get into the high
school young.
One drizzling afternoon, just as 1t was
growing dusk, was packing up the laces
and shoe. strings into the old paste board
box that I used TO carry them home in.
My umbrella was thin and old, and the
steels were easy bent, and all of sudden
the wind jerked it out of my hand and car
ried 1t clean out of sight in less than half q
minute.
If could have seen where ii landed,
would have gone after it, for, poor a. II
was, il was better than none; but would
you believe it, that gust of wind took it
round the next corner, where the little wo'
man sat, who was in the cheap stationery
and mucilage line.
was covering up the box with my
shawl, only the corners would stick out,
when
"Hallo," said fresh, hearty voice At my
elbow.
turned around and saw that high school
| boy, with his oil-clolh cap and water
| proof on. his umbrella in one hand, and
his bundle of strapped up books in The
other.
"Ths,'s a go isn't it2' said he.
laughed out loud, couldn't help 1t.
at isn't a 'go' for me-" says l, "I'm
afraid it will be a stay, till the rain stops,
| for don't want to get the stock wet, 1t
makes the lsces yellow, and the box 10 most
% old as the umbrella was"
"The rain won't stop all night" says he
shut never mind. don't you worry. Hold
this umbrella over you, and my books, and
| III be back 10 two minutes and quarter
He ran off and l waited / seemed as
we'll acquainted with him, ss II he was next
| door neighbour to me, yet didn't know his
name. Pretty soon he came back with the
water-drops falling off his cap and water
proof, and carrying a covered TN pail IN
each hand.
500 you know what this means" say'
he.