The banner-enterprise., 1883-05-17
would blurt out if you once gave her
the chance" said she.

sufficient Of courage and self-denial to
live plainly until her object was at
tanned.
She occupied fireless hall bedroom
in shabby little downtown boarding
4 house, patronized mostly by the guild
of working people, whose only recon-
mendation was its scrupulous neat
ness.
She wore cotton gloves, dyed-over
gowns and the plainest of plain bon
nets, and through it all she respected
herself.
Stay, though-we have not told it
all There was one extravaganza in
which Octavia Glenn occasionally in
dulged herself-that of charity. She
had class of innocent-faced children
in the mission school, of an evening,
and she was diligent worker in the
ranks of quiet benevolent society,
which wrought great deal of good
without any blowing of trumpets.
And one day when the feeble old
porter at the store fell i'll and his place
was vacant, Octavia Glenn constituted
herself a committee of one to inquire
into the matter.
"Of course you can do as you like,
Miss Glenn" said Mr.. Idem, the pro-
prittor of the store. but Ferrigan
lives in most dismal neighborhood
and I'm not sure that it is altogether
safe for you to venture there after
dark"
AFTER dark is all the time have"
said Octavia brusquely. And it
must be great deal worse to live
there than to go once in awhile. /
think I'll risk it,"
So she begged permission from the
clearinghouse keeper to make little
farina jelly over the cooking-stove
when the heavy, blackberry dump
lings, which were to regale the boarders
for dessert, were taken up, bought
few Strawberries and.a small slice of
sponge-cake, and set forth to visit old
Ferrigan, the porter.
1t was a dismal neighborhoo9, in
deed, where the poor cd man lived
u neighborhood where piles of ashes ip
the narrow street made sort of model
of the Rocky mounta ms, on small
scale, and layers of cabbage-leaves and
damaged lettuce festered in the gutter;
where rivulets of soapsuls trickled
across the pavement; and there APP
pearcd to be moro feeble groceries
than there were people. The very
gaslights sulked behind their cloudy
lanterns, and the occasional passerS
prowled by like homeless cats.
Number ninety-nine," said Oc-
tavia, briskly walking into thread
and-needle store, where an old woman
sat fast asleep behind the counter.
"Does Mr.. Ferrigan board herop"
The old woman reused herself and
looked about
Second floor back" said she, and
instantly fell asleep again.
Octavia smiled.
Il can find my way myself, don't
doubt" she thought.
And she did.
The whole house seemed to he damp.
Blotches of blue mold had broken out
here and there on the ceiling, the walls
felt damp and clammy to the touch, as
if Octavia had put her hand hy mis-
take on snail vegetable-scented
whiffs came up now and then from
the cellar, and the room in which old
Ferrigan lay gasping with rheumatic
pains felt more like dungeon than
anything else.
No carpet was there, no table. only
shelf, where a dispirited kerosene
lamp had smoked its chimney into a
black cylinder; no chairs. the window
uncurtained; and the shabby bed
spread was tattered and soiled until
its pattern was beyond all recognition.
Octavia's soul recoiled from this inn
personation of hopeless poverty.
"Can l do anything for you, Mr..
Ferrigan?" she asked, after she had
tenderly administered the farina- jelly,
the fruit and the sponge. cake, straight
ened up the bedclothes and trimmed
the lamp afresh.
"It's very good of you, l am sure"
said the old man, with the plantive
courteIy of his nation. "And III not
deny it was a word of comfort and
kindness that l was wearying for.
But it won't be needful long, I'm
hoping. I've sent word to my SON
he's a bookbinder, miss, and doing well /
at his trade, but it is natural like, don't {
you see? as he wouldn't like to be q
dragged down by such useless old l
clog as me" .
"But he is your son, isn't hep" cried q
Octavia "and you're his father?"
Faith, and that's true, miss, DEAR" t
said old Ferrigan, with sigh. "But '
le's fine, ambitious young m .l-a il
-ale gintleman to look at, and of a t
Sunday you couldn't tell him from the Q
gentry themselves. An he may il
marry grand lady yet-who knows? t
an he wouldn't like me to be spoilin' n
MS chances. Sol just keep dark, Miss C
Glenn; an sometimes l think-Lord k
forgive me that I'd be better dead o
IN out of the way. But / sent word n
% him day before yesterday. An h
le'll come-I think he'll come r the L
I'D man added, with scarcely audible V
Ugh. P
At that moment a careless step &
,ame up the stairs-the door was b
pushed open and a tall figure strobe in. d
"Sick again p said petulant tone. b
1t appears to me, old gentleman, that $,
Us your chief mission in life to make ST
rouble for other people. Well, what Il
S ii now? If it's money you want. p
'ou may as well understand, first as =
ast, that | can't let you have any.
ka.,n A.