The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1877-09-06
The Sick Artist.

'' h'lDl a DodIullS nOuNe, mlllA ant
/. To be sure, people said it was
shame that Mr.. FOntaine's daughter
should stoop so low in life as to dea
out their hospitality for money. Blu
NIFTY said-and NIFTY had great dea
of common sense-that we must live
and all the genteel company that cam,
to visit us wouldn't put so much as
penny in our pockets toward coal anC
taxes.
Mrs. Hall, who lived next door to u
said she knew we wouldn't make /
pay. No one but an experienced house
keeper could make it pay.
Miss Cynthia Caldwell thought tina
it would be much nicer and more selec
to do fine sewing or get place as gov
erness or something of that sort, whicl
wouldn't have been quite so public.
Old Fernleaf said his daughter,
shouldn't visit us, and DR.. Millet looked
the other way when he brought his
fashionable new bride to town and met
NIFTY face to face in the street.
Dear me, said NIFTY, laughing
what queer world this is
But was angry enough to cry.
NO matter, Nifty said |; well
teach them that we can be quite indie.
pendent without them
| INol1 ol tft,,n ,,.npt ~, ,,sn haI
eral boarders. Old Mr.. Pettigrew anC
his niece Clarissa, the two Mr.. Hen.
leys; and the minister's niece, who
gave lessons in wax flowers and water.
color paintings. Our rooms were full
all except the little over the wing.
Kate, said NIFTY, triumphantly, we
are making money. Iput eleven pounds
in the saving bank to-day, over and
above all expenses for the past month.
Il dare say Mrs. Hall saves more than
that said l.
Il think very likely said NIFTY
only, you see, Mrs. Hall does every
thing on a grander scale than we can
pretend to keep up with
we do our own marketing, wash
and iron our own table linen, and sift
Il e ashes on the sly, while Miss Hen
rietta Hall is practicing The Maiden's
Prayer on the piano
But them observed /, I'VE are not
such fine ladies as Mrs. and Miss Hen
rietta. We are only two poor little old
maids, who are obliged to earn our own
living.
Kate, you are not an old maid in
dignantly cried out NIFTY.
And you are as fresh as a rosebud
beside Henrietta Hall, said |, patting
her cheek. DO you know, dear, think
hard work agrees with both of us.
So things went on, until one summer
evening we were out on our steps,
when there was quite cOmmotiOn in
the carpeted hall of our neighbOr, Mrs
Hall.
'Of course he must GO Mrs. Hall:
voice shrilly announced. 1t was q
great imposition on me that he should
ever come here. supposed he was an
author, or a lawyer, or some such gen.
teel occupation, and now, you see, he's
nothing but painter. A common
painter.
'An artist ma'am,' suggested Mr.
Birdseye.
and where's the difference / should
like to know?' sputtered Mrs. Hall.
Except that one has at least daily
wages to depend upon, and the other
hasn't. And now here he is down with
scarlet fever or smallpox, or some
such hideOus ailment, and
only a malignant form of intermit-
tent fever, ma'am,' again put in Mr..
Birdseye.
NO matter what name they call it
by, said the lady, waxing hotter and
hotter in the ardor of discussion. q
don't keep hospital here, and if |
did, | wouldn't harbOr any such low
trash. SO the sooner he packs off, the
better l shall be pleased
But where is he to go?' asked young
Deiderman. IIe has no friends that
anybody knows Of, and
'All the more reason that | should
get him off my hands as quickly as pos
sible, said Mrs. Hall. 'The idea ofmy
becoming responsible for his funeral
expenses, Or
Hush, Waller will hear yOu,' inter-
rupted Mr.. Birdseye. His window is
OPEN
Il don't care if he does hear me,
snapped Mrs. Hail. He ought to have
been ashamed of himself, coming here
under such circumstances as this. But
he goes, sick or well, before sunset this
very night. There are public hospitals
enough, suppose
Plenty of 'cm, said Mr.. Birdseye,
dryly, 'and while he is waiting for all
the forms to be gone through with, in
order to gain admission, he will most
likely die in the street.
"well, LEI him die, said Mrs. Hall,
'That's no business of mine, that ]
know Of
NIFTY looked at me. | looked al
NIFTY. Our eyes sparkled mute tele-
graphic messages to each other--and
spoke out of the choking indignant full
ness of my heart.
Mrs. Hall, cried l, Mr.. Waller may
come here, whoever he Is. A sick man
frendless and alone, should be able tC
claim brotherhood with all the world
NIFTY and will take care of him unit,
he Is able to take care Of himself
Mrs. Hall took us at our word with