Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1883-10-18
THE YOUNGEST CLERK,

us it a beggar, jane said Mrs
Troop. "Oh, don't send the poor
creature away! Give him a glass of
milk and bit of cold beef"
please, ma'am," said Jane, "there
amt so much as drop of milk left;
andyou gave the last of the beef to old
Gideon Gallup And besides, ma'am,
/ don't think it is a tramp at all. It's
quite respectable young man. in Il
brown linen duster, and a carpet-bag. .
"Ohv' said Mrs. Troop. a new
boarder, eh?"
"Well, ma'am, l amt quite sure"
said Jane, discreetly. Folks is so
different"
Jane" said Mrs. Troop, mysteri-
ously, Il see it all now. It's the
youngest clerk"
"Ma'am?" said Jane, in a bewilder-
ed way.
''Oh, don't be so stupidr' cried Mrs.
Troop, who was one of those nervous
New England women who are perpet-
ually instinct with electricity, and
who saw and comprehended things by
flashes. Call Barbara; and make
haste about it,
Barbara came into the green gloom
of the little pantry, whose window
was thickly shaded with morning
glory vines-a tall, slim lassie, with
5 solemn blue-gray eyes, brown hair,
and slow grace of manner which she
must have inherited from the birches
on the mountain-side and the reeds in
the swamp. for other teachers she had
none.
"What is it, mother? said she q
was emptying the feathers out of the
old pillow-ticks, and"
Barbara" said Mrs. Troop, don't
bother about p1llow-t:cks! It's the
youngest clerk-he's waiting just over
there in the porch, with his bag. Can
we accommodate him, do you think?"
Mother" sail Barbara, "what on
earth do you mean?"
why" cried Mrs. Troop, with
little impatient gesture, don't you re-
member old Mr.. Fanshawe, the book
keeper in Browne, Brownson &
Brownies, telling us about the young
est clerk there, who had the weak
lungs and the small salary? And he
said he'd recommend him here, for his
summer vacation; and he hoped we'd
take him cheap and do what we could
for him."
"Oh!' said Barbara, arching her
pretty brow. eyes, it seems to me
now that l do remember something
about it. But, mother, where can we
put him? Every room is full even
to the two sloling-roofed chambers in
the garret." p"
''But poor young man." said Mrs
Troop, in a distressed voice, with
hereditary consumption and almost no
salary! Barbara, we never can turn
him away!'
"No, of course not" said Barbara
rejecting. Mother, can manage it.
Don't fret any more. Tell him he
may come"
"And high time. too," said Mrs.
Troop, nervously, with him waiting
there on the porch, and wondering, no
doubt, what all this delay means"
She hustled out, with kindly hospi-
tality in her eyes. There, in the pur-
pie twilight, apparently listening to
the song of the whip-poor-wills on the
mountain-side, sat a slender person,
dressed in cool, brown linen, with a
valise resting on the floor beside him.
How was Mrs. Troop to know that he
had heard every word Of the brief col
loquy?
Madam" he said, lifting the straw
hat from his curly head, T.
ooh, yes, yes!' said Mrs. Troop; 81
know all about it, Your name is
Browne-with Browne, Brownson g.
Browne. Mr.. Fanshawe told me all
about YOU. You are the youngest
clerk there"
madam, /"
"It isn't necessary to explain" kind
ly interrupted Mrs. Troop. "Wel
give you room and board for two
. dollars week. can't promise you
HI the dainties they have at the Chocoma
M fouse, but everything shall be clean
nd wholesome. Mr.. Fanshawe knew
A would be interested in you, because [
d lost a-son of about your age
Indeed, Mrs. Troop, I am very
ch obliged to you, but
Here comes my daughter Barbara