Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1883-10-10
THE YOUNGEST CLERK,

Ts it a beggar Jane?" said Mrs
Troop. "Oh, don't send the poor
creature awayl Give him glass of
milk and a bit of cold beef"
please, ma'am," said Jane, "there
amt so much as drop Of milk left
and you gave the last of the beef to old
Gideon Gallup. And besides, ma'am,
l don't think it is a tramp at all. It's
quite respectable young man, in a
brown linen duster, and carpet-bag."
"Oh" 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, ~ see it all now. It's the
youngest clerk"
"Ma'am ~ said Jane, in a bewilder-
ed way.
"Oh, don't be so stupid.' 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 l.ake
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
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. 81
was emptying the feathers out of the
old pillow-ticks and"
Barbara" said Mrs. Troop, "don't
bother about plllowticks! It's the
youngest clerk-hes 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 a
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 | do remember something
about it. But, mother, where can we
put him? Every room is fulASeven
to the two sloping-roofed chambers in
the garret."
"But poor young man." said Mrs.
Troop, in 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 tc
the song of the whip-poor-wills on the
mountain-side, sat slender person
dressed in cool, brown linen, with d
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, 4"
"Oh, yes, yes" said Mrs. Troop; 81
know all about it. Your name is
Browne-with Browne, Brownson &
Browne Mr.. Fanshawe told me al
about you. You are the youngest
clerk there
MADAM, /"
at isn't necessary to explain" kind.
ly interrupted Mrs. Troop. "We'l
give you room and board for two
dollars a week. l can't promise you
the dainties they have at the Chocoms
House, but everything shall be clear
and wholesome. Mr.. Fanshawe knew
would be interested in you, because
had lost a son of about your age"
"Indeed Mrs. Troop, / am very
much obliged to you, but"
"Here comes my daughter Barbara,
said Mrs. Troop, evidently desirous tc
abbreviate the newcomers thanks
Barbara, this is the youngest clerk
His name, / believe, is Browne"
Barbara let her soft, blue-gray eye
rest upon his tired face for a second
with the most angelic sympathy.
as your cough very. bad this sum
mer?" she asked. "Oh, | hope tn,