Northern tribune. [volume] (Cheboygan, Mich.) 1875-1885, 1881-07-23

"Inere tnat Will 90. was not DOru
genius, and hate arithmetic"
"But you did not always have to work
for living, Katy?" said Mary. "YOu are
lady, l know"
Katy laughed queer, short laugh.
"Yes," she said, land that's why don't
know how to get my living in any way
but this. So behold me healthy and
honest factory GIRL
She rose, made little bow, and -four
ish with her small hands, and we all
laughed, although she had said nothing
funny.
"Mflly," said she, please light the
lamp and get the magazine, while hunt
up my thimble and thread. Ladies,
find myself under the necessity of mend
ing my gloves this evening. Oh, poverty!
where is thy sting? In shabby glove,
l do believe, for nothing hurts me like
that, unless it be decaying boot.
Katy's gloves were marvel to us.
She never wore any but of good quality,
and always the same cOlOr-a brOwnish,
neutral tint that harmOniZed with almost
any dress-but just now new pair
would seem to be one thing needful, from
the appearance of the ones she brought
out.
rents, while | read aloud; and when she
had finished, the gloves looked almost
new.
The next day was Saturday, and we had
a half holiday. Katy and went to make
some trihing purchases, and on our way
home stopping at the big boarding house
to see one of the girls who was ill.
When we came out Kate ran across
ha N a
news shop, and came hurrying up to
overtake me before turned the corner.
She had the magazine open, and one of
her hands was unglOved; but it was not
until we had reached home that she
found she had lost glove. 1t was too
late then to go and look for it. We went
and searched the next morning, but
could not find it.
Katy mOurned for it.
1T was my only pair, girls" said she,
tragically; land it is loss that cannot
be repaired.
What people call "panic" had occur
red in financial circles in the spring af-
ter Arthur Craig had lost his Katy. and
almost without days warning he found
himself poor man. He left his affairs
in the hands of his misunderstanding
satisfied himself that they could gather
enough from the wreck to save them
selves-and set his face to London.
He had been educated for physician,
though fortune made merchant of him.
Learning from friend that there was
an opening for doctor in Fenwlck, he
came thither and began practice.
DR.. Sewall had gone off on visit; leav-
ing his patients in charge of the new
al ns.fn nd .hn.. hat hat
Saturday evening he was on his way to
see Maggie Lloyd, the sick girl at the
lodging house, when, Just after turning
the corner near the news shop, he saw a
brown glove lying on the pavement. He
was about to pass it by; but a mans in
stinct to pick up anything of value that
seems to have no owner made him put it
in his pocket. He forgot all about it the
next minute.
But when he HAD made his call and re-
turned to his consulting room, in taking
paper from his pocket the glove fell
out, and he picked it up and looked at it
with idle curiosity.
1t was old. but well-preserved. 1t had
been mended often, but so neatly as to
make him regard mending as one of the
fine arts. 1t had strangely familiar
look to him. Little, and brown, and
shapely, it lay on his knee, bearing the
very form of the hand that had worn it.
And as he gnzed at it there came to
him the memory of an hour, many
months past, when he had sat by Katy's
side on the side on the green sofa in the
dining room of their house" (alasD and
watched her put her small hands into a
pair of brown gloves so much like this
one.
Ever since that never-tO-be-fOrgOtten
day the vision of his lost love, sitting
there i'm the fading light, slowly drawing
on her glove, her sweet eyes filling as
they talked,-quarreled, we should say,
ing memory of her, until he had come to
know each shade of the picture, the color
of the dress, the ribbon at the throat,
and the shaded plume in her hat.
He looked at the little glove a long
time. He had thought it might belong
to one of the factory girls, as he found it
near the lodging house. But it did not
look like factory hands" glove. He
would ask Maggie Lloyd at any rate; so
he put it carefully in his pocket until he
should make his calls in the morning.
He had suffered the glove to become so
associated with the memory of past
that was sacred to him, that he felt his
cheek burn and his hand tremble, as he
drew it forth to show it to Maggie, who
was sitting in the comfort of GONZALES
cence, in an armchair by the window,
watching the handsome young doctor
write the prescription for her benefit
'By the way, Miss Maggie, do you know
whose glove this Isl"
Maggie knew it at once. 1t was Miss
GARDENERS glove.
"NIiss Gardiner
The name made his heart beat again.