The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1884-03-06
AT THE DELIVERY WINDOW.
The People Who Wait for the Let
ters That Never Will Come.

perhaps you don't know it, but, the
place to see tragedies of real life like a
panorama is right in here, said post
office habitue before the general post
Office building on Park row.
'.How could one see tragedies in the
postofice?n
'Tn show you," he said. Come in
here"
Damp stone corridors, very dirty
and chilly; jostling people, rude and
anxious; great dingy glass partitions
with a square little hole in the bottom,
behind which were seen at intervals
the clerks faces. Nothing very tragic
about this"
mop Wait bit. These are the
foreign delivery windows; people come
here to get foreign letters. They are
coming all the time. 1t is san-unending
procession of tired feet. Watch'em.
We did There was woman lead
ing little girl. She was watching her
turn to ask at the window. She was
dressed in rusty black. She had pret-
ty, sad face with few premature
wrinkles ON it. She looked modest,
nervous, anxious. Presently she got
chance and went up and put her head
down to the little hole
Anything for Mrs John-p"
That's all we could hear
Nothing" said the voice of the
clerk after moments delay.
The woman stepped back as if the
clerks voice had hurt her. She looked
down moment and then feeling her.
self jostled by some other anxious ap-
plicant shrunk all together and went
away-like ghost.
'.Do you see anything at thatp" ask
ed my companion.
'.Not much"
"Well, she has been coming for a
month, the day after every steamer.
She expects a letter from her husband,
and she will never get it"
"WhyP"
Because when he went away he
never intended to write. He went away
with another woman. The wife hasn't
discovered the deception yet. You see,
he left her with kiss, promised to
write by the first steamer, and she has
been counting the hours ever since. I
call this tragedy. Whenever heart
is torn to pieces slowly by villainy there
is tragedy.
1.-The clerk at that window gets to
know some of the sad white faces that
come regularly. There is an old wo-
man who sometimes-Ah! there she is
now, standing over there waiting for
her chance. Look at her.
We both stared at her in silence
moment. She must have been So But
she was still hearty save for the traces
of sorrow and toll on her brown old
face. There was watery expression
to her eyes as if she was used to crying.
She was poorly cad. A faded shawl
was wrapped about her shoulders, and
on one of the fingers of her bronzed
hand shone an old wedding-ring, worn
very thin.
''She comes once a week and aclxs
for letter rrom Frank" said my COM
panion, "but she never gets it."
''Who's Frankp'
"Well, who can he be? Franks her
boy. All you've got to do is to look at
her to know the whole story It's the
oldest one on record. She bore him;
she nursed him; she wept and prayed
over him; she poured into him all the
affection of which a mother is capable.
She worked till her fingers bled for
him. Don't you see all that? The first
thing he did when he was able to get
out into the world was TO get into dis
grace. Then the whole world turned
against him. That is the whole with
one exception. This poor old woman
stood by him. She was getting along
in life, but she doubled her work; she
toiled night and day; she boarded her
pennies; she denied herself the neces-
sarles of life, but she got money enough
to set him at liberty and let him COM
mence over again He ought to have
been the comfort and prop of her old
age. He wasn't. But she never up
braided him. All she hunyered for
was his love- Al! she asked of him
was to do right. But he never would
do right. Finally he went away, TAX
ing her last dollar. He had to go. He
fled, in fact. But he told her he was
going to reform in new land, and be a
man and come back some day and take
care of her. And she saw him off,
hung on his neck, could not tear her
old arms away, you know, because she
hadn't anybody in the world but her
Frank"
''Well, he will certainly come back
some time?"
''No; his bones are living white in the
bottom of the Gulf of Mexico. That's
where Frank is, and the old woman
comes regularly to look for her letter
that will never come. You'll see a
good deal of the emotional side of life
at that wicket, if you know how to in
terpret it. "-NeaU York World.