The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1883-09-20
A YOUNG WIDOWER'S STORY.

now, and strange to say, L am not IN
the least consoled. l am not anxious
to attack any body of professional
men, but do think the doctors killed
her.
| was i'll myself for some time before,
and when | met her, poor girl, [ had
been i'll with nervous prostration, malaria
and dyspepsia, the doctors said. The
heat was intense. Just such a heated
term as we have had this summer, and
the brokers office of Ackerly, Mackle-
bury & Cords was not the coolest or
most salubrious environment. | had
the ticker in my hand, it had Just
marked wabash Preferred" when l
heard the CHEEKY. musical voice of my
fellow clerk, Arthur Clark. say: ''Hullo
there goes Horatio,' and Twas dimly
conscious that had tumbled into his
long arms, ard up against a rather
warm waiStcOat which covered the best
heart in all this wicked world. Arthur
had house in an uptown street, while
| only owned n weekly interest in Il
.second-pair- in a clearinghouse
and when l succumbed what did this
prince OF good fellows do but have me
put in an ambulance, and brought to
his fathers house, where a bed was
made up for me in the empty parlors.
His voice again was the next thing |
heard.
You see, old fellow" said Arthur,
|'my mother and sisters are out of town,
and only the boys and the governor are
at home; so as we didn't want to put
the governor out, we concluded to give
YOU the parlors, where he rarely comes
in summer. So YOU are to lie here and
get well; fine breeze through when the
library door is left open, straw mating
(rather the worse for weary, few old
pictures, of suspected authenticity, on
the wall, gas fixtures done up in brown
paper, mirrors covered with mosquito
net, HOratiO Bronson stretched on a
hastily-improviSed cot, ice on head,
taken down pretty bad, doctor recon-
mendS quiet. Arthur Clark, Esq, master
of the situation. Dost like the picture?
Moths, cats and mosquitoes thrown in,
hand-organs subsidized; be still and get
well. No emotion. if you please
forbidden, my dear boy, by medical ad-
vice"
Arthur ratified on and put ME grad
ually into possession of the facts. From
his lively investiture of my case, pres
emily sank off into a fever and lost all
sense Of time, place and circumstance.
A doctor and a woman nurse became q
part of my imperfect consciousness,
AID the large, deserted parlors of city
house, with its numerous pictures, be-
came in a dreamy way the horizon of
my confused and distressed vision.
There was a cattle piece in front of
me, and a large dark red battle by
moonlight in a heavy Venetian frame
There was view of Venice, and a pref
ty little copy of Helen FrOment.
Rubens' wife. There was, of course, q
Madonna della Seggiola, and Cenci.
Elr and Mrs. Clark had been to Europe
about twenty years ago, when no re-
spectacle American ever dared come
home without the two laSt-named cop
les.
Over these pictures, and little
group of the LAGOON in the corner, did
i dream, and perhaps rave. Arthur,
dear old boy, used TO come in and see
me every evening. His personality
stood out distinctly. and he has told me
since (bless his hearth that | always
said: "Gou are doing your work and
mine, too, know YOU are" and that
once or twice | was weak enough 10
well-let that pass, we do not love each
other any the less.
| got to listening to the sounds at
night, and wondering what they meant
A loud, metallic thump on the pave
ment, as if some one had thrown
-lor oh 81
five minutes, amazed and puzzled me.
Why should any one throw down n
crowbar with marked periodicity?
There was Il little tinkling bell that
came at three. o'clock, Just after the
clock at 18th street had struck, which
was singularly puerile and foolish, 1
thought. Then there were queer peo-
pie who walked and stopped, and others
who walked and didn't stop. Why
didn't they all stop, or else walk on? I
heard condolences of young lovers
Many marital reprisal, not meant for
my ears. came through the closed
blinds. Many a group of young men
went by with song and jest, and then
came the long weary time from two
O'Clock to four, with only the episode of
the crcwbar, and the bell. and the
clock, and now and then some other
entirely ineNplicable sound.
80 | think we will leave his blinds open
tonight to give him more air." said the
familiar voice of my nurse to Arthur.
one hot night, as my friend paid me his
usual visit.
"Who is she?'' I whispered feebly
to Arthur. If l had grain of sense or
consecutive thought left, it always came
to me when Arthur was in the room.
lone of the trained nurses from
Bellevue, old boy. A nice girl. She is
bringing you through splendidly. How
do you feel tonight? temperature rath-
er high, and sank off into sleep or
something, with Arthur's cool hand on
my brow.
When I awoke the gas was turned
up, and my nurse stood over me with a
wine-glaSs full of medicine.