Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1885-12-17

and II | make pot of money writing let
ters, viii help Harry on Bit"
parents neck and kissed him on the top of
his bald head.
"The newspaper is the history of the en-
tire world for single day, as some great
man has said, remarked Margaret Lewis
ton, accepting an Office stool, for she was
She placed an old and dilapidated band
box on the floor beside her as she spoke,
and consulted her watch.
where did you get that handbook" cried
Rosy.
Margaret laughed, and raised it to the
level of Mr.. Merridew's table for public in
'The bandbox looks as if it might have
held your great-grandmother's best bon
net, Rosy" she said Handsome as it is,
am going to ask you to stow it away
somewhere for me. How did 1 come by
the thing? Why met Heloise Michant:
she had been to my house to beg me to
keep the bandbox for her, so I took pos
session of it then and there, and brought
1t around here, as have a message to de-
liver from Harry
''Who is Heloise Michant?" inquired Mr..
Merridew, eying the bandbox askance.
"When I took charge of the Perkins
children in Europe last year, their mother
hired Heloise Michant in Paris, and
gle explained. ''The girl is Alsacian, /
believe. She was frightened and home
sick, poor thing! I did not suppose she
remembered me, yet she knew even my
Baltimore, and she wished me to take
charge of her worldly goods while she
went to seek the newcomer. She is not
sure of retaining her place afterward. /
met her near my house, and promised to
do so; then l decided to come here in
stead"
"Why didn't she take her bandbox with
herr" demanded Mr.. Merridew, gloomily.
Both girls laughed merrily.
sit would not hold together for jour-
ney," giggled Rosy, lifting a torn edge of
the cover so that the contents could be
seen-some fragments of faded silk and
ribbons, the finery dear to the heart of
maid-servants, since all distinctive cos
tunes of class have been abandoned in
favor of tawdry imitation of the mistress,
"How we'll it is tied together, thought"
said Mr.. Merridew, abiding to a quantity
of fine cord knotted about the box in such
81 win put it away in my closet, Maggy,"
said Rosy. "You have enough on your
hands without stray bandboxes, dear"
Margaret Lewiston was tall, large and
mourning, with ruche of Grape about her
throat instead Of a white collar-a costume
which enhanced the pallor of her complex
ion and the warm tones of her abundant
auburn hair, gathered in superb mass at
the back of the head. Severe simplicity
robbed her of youthful coquetry, while the
carriage of her shoulders evinced reso-
Lutte nature. She had firm faith in her per-
sonal plainness, and her world accepted
her at her own valuation. She would have
cut off her red hair with relentless hand,
had she not feared that her droll aspect,
thus shorn, would make the children
laugh; she was a teacher in one of the
great public schools.
She loved the dimples, the pink-tinted
cheeks, and graceful figure of Rosy Mer-
ridew with a generous appreciation OF the
beauty of another rare among women.
Harry's message delivered, she departed
to attend teachers meeting, and q friend
ly ray followed her from Mr.. Merridew's
door. The night was clear and cold, with
Christmas three weeks away. Ice crusted
the pavement, and the shops were bright
with holiday decorations. Margaret quilted
the Sixth Avenue, where the store was stu
ated, directing her steps toward the east side
of the town. As she reached the corner of
crowded thoroughfare light blow of a
cane swept off her hat. Surprised and in
dignant, she caught the hat, and turned to
discover the aggressor. A man had just
climbed the steps of a cellar restaurant
with a freshly lighted cigar in his mouth
and stout walking stick under his arm.
His flowing beard and wide brimmed felt
hat proclaimed him an artist. He had
been dining at an Italian eating house on
minestra, macaroni served in bowls, crisp
frittura, and Salame, in remembrance of
similar meals partaken of in vine- draped
pergole of the Roman Campagna, or on
the rocks of Capri-banquets favored with
laughter, and TASKS of golden Lacrima
Cristi, and the red Palermo wines.
"You should be more careful with your
cane, sir" said Margaret Lewiston, curtly,
standing there in the full brilliancy of the
gas lamp.
He made no reply, but gazed at her in
tently., AS Maggy replaced her hat and
Amid the roll of heavy vehicles, the crack
of whips, the tread of many feet, two
voices reached her ear distinctly, as a
thread of sound sometimes giercss tumult
said, in the French language:
"Did you see herr"
eyes ;" replied the second voice.
"Would you know her again."
"Trust me for that, my friend"
Maggy shuddered, and yet she glanced
behind her as she turned the next corner.
The man who had emerged from the res
taurant seemed about to part with a COM
rade in the crowd.
"Can they have meant mes" she won
dered. And again that nervous shiver
chilled her blood.
Next day Mr.. Merridew adjusted his
picard in the window. He imagined
that the eye of the street would be imme-
diately attracted to the unusual announc-
msnt Of letter writing ith e. He wat ed like
cess closely drawn, nor would he suffer
any disturbance of the arrangements made
about the table over night. No flies en-
tered the web. As the early twilight fell
Mr.. Merridew's disappointment acquired
a phase of excitement. He refused to eat
his supper. quite pettishly, and sat bolt
upright at his desk, as if fearing some pre-
cious opportunity would escape him
should he desert his post. Vigilance re-
ceived unexpected reward. In the dark
the burly form of a man passed the show
turned slowly, and finally paused to read
the placard. The next moment he en-
tered. A heavy overcoat completely con-
cealed the outline of his figure, which was
Of medium height, while fur cap and
worsted muller about the throat rendered
even his face indistinguishable, save for a
reddish beard. He coughed, glanced about
the place, and inquired in broken En-
glish:
els it here de letters writer"
Eyes," said Mr.. Merridew, and led the
way to the recess.
''How much you charger" continued the
stranger, warily.
eve will settle all that" said Mr.. Merri-
dew, briskly. "Are you foreigner"
81 am a German. / come from Wurtz-
burg. Sprechen Sic Deutsch? MOP You
see, / wish to write-some-to my boss out
West, James Perkins. can talk like sixty,
but you must fix up letter nice. Heys"
Mr.. Merridew dipped his pen in the ink
to signify his comprehension of the situa-
ton. In his own mind he decided to add
to the trap in the window the additional
bait of letters written for foreigners as yet
unfamiliar with the language. The first
missive of this polite letter writer was long
and discursive. Inquiries were made about
the family of Mr.. Perkins, the brewery
and the savings-bank at Milwaukee. A
minute history was given of Gretchen
Miller's lover Max, who had taken to evil