Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1879-02-27
Mr.. NESMITH'S LANDLADY,

q
Just bring on your angels
His surroundings while he spoke
thus were not of such kind as to
warmly invite celestial visitation, but,
like most other mortals, Mr.. Nesmith
expected all persons from whom he
demanded benefit to be superior to
any minor details which might have
influenced him, and was conscious Of
no incongruity in asking to have an
angel brought on into the atmosphere
OF tobacco smoke, broodinc over the
complicated disorder of the law office
that also served him as bedroom.
I've done all ] can he unused, as
he sent puffs and rings OF blue vapor
into the air. I've haunted the courts
until every soul there knows my face,
from the judges down to the regular
simple DRINKS that return with the
year as regularly as the seasons; but
not to me returns brief, or the sweet
approach of client, or sight of the YER
nal greenback, or gold or silver, or
the human face divine of ANYBODY
who thinks that l would be a good
junior to do the work and let him
pocket the fees. A cloud of wants in
stead, and ever-during dark surrounds
me, and it is getting bigger and darker
every day. Ive hung about all the
newspaper offices until the city edit
ors hate me almost as much as the
man who wants to write for nothing
and sign his articles, and yet can't
get as much work as the Youths
whose sole recommendation ia an abil.
ity 10 write low slang and to meet the
coarsest ward politician on his own
level. I've written play; oh, haven't
/! I've written six, and there they
are on the shelf, each having gradu-
ated from the waste basket of three
Boston managers. I've done copying
when l could get it; I've offered to
keep books; I've tried everything
that / could do, aud several things
that l couldn't, and it's Christmas
morning, and l have just thirty-o ne
cents; wherefore, in accordance with
all the novels and magazine stories it
is about time for some kind of an an
gel to appear and attend to my case.
Oh, yes, come in he called out,
in answer to a knock that isn't
the angel, Peter, my boy. It's bill,
and your landlady is behind it, and
there's not much of an angel about
her.
Peter was right as far as looks went,
at least, for anything more unlike an
angel than the short, almost dwarfish
woman who waddled into his Office it
would be hard to imagine. Iron-gray
hair curled in tight curls fell over a
low forehead, and iron. gray eyebrows
almost met above a very red, little
nose, and the cheeks and chin were
by no means lovely enough to redeem
these features, although the latter bad
pretty dimple. Moreover, the voice
in which the little woman spoke would
have shamed stage angel by its
harshness, and her words were by no
means heavenly. MY money, young
man. she croaked Regular quarter
day tomorrow and legal holiday, SO
that you must pay up to-day
'Why don't you, when you're in
America, do as the Americans do, and
have your quarter days at decent
times p grumbled Peter, unlocking a
drawer and exhuming the carefully
boarded little bundle of bills that gave
him a right to stay in his quarters
three months longer. christmas and
Lady Day and Midsummer auu Mich
aelmas don't come any more regularly
than the first days of January, April,
July and October
DO you own this building, young
man p croaked the landlady.
No. / DON'T answered Peter, q
don't own anything but lot of your
receipted bills. Please give me an.
other; my bump of acquisitiveness is
| enormous
well, / dc own this building,' said
the lady. with degree of sharpness
that seemed very unreasonable to
Peter, sand l own half a dozen more,
and my tenants take my rooms on my
terms, ask no questions and make no
comments
It's a free country said Peter,
'and tenant doesn't owe fealty TO his
landlord or landlady, you know, and
your fancy for collecting from two to
seven days in advance of the regular
quarter day gives you large amount
Of interest to which you have no right
whatever. Have pen, ma'am p
The interest on your rent has long
provided me with diamonds and laces,
retorted the landlady. Il reserve it
for that purpose, young man. I'm
extravaganza, l know; but that's not
your business. Give me the blotting
paper. Ughl what smell Of smokep
Il beg your PARDON cried Peter,
repenting aud hastily putting down
his pipe. you are so very sharp.
ma am, that l forgot, and kept on with
my pipe as if you were a man. / am
sorry /; / am, indeed.
Il have to be sharp replied the
landlady, as she rose to go. Nothing
else keeps me out of the poorhouse |;