The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-01-17

4
| / never understood its mechanism. not being
| apt at such things, and all know about it is
/ that 1t was intended to save a great deal OF
trouble to knitters who are not proficient In
turning the heep of socks and stockings.
The knitter knit down to the heel, then she put
! her work into the machine set it in motion, and
| when the heel was turned, took it out and went
on with her knitting If Horace could dispose
| or this valuable invention, even at the lowest
| price at which he would be willing to sell 1T, he
4 could buy the country newspaper the editor
| could lend the money to the church. who would
! pay OF the invalid clergyman and let him go
South, with the ex-editor as his successor; and
Horace being settled. the best Of all things could
| happen to Belle and myself.
| AS might well be supposed Horace, who was
4 nervous man, was in fever OF excitement in re-
| gard to this affair. He now thought of nothing
| but the sale of his heelturner If he could dis
pose of it. even for enough TO make the first cash
| payment demanded by the editor, he could enter
| into possession, and had no doubt of his ability
| to make the small periodic payments which
would complete the purchase. If he could not
| sell his invention nothing could be done. Bor-
| rowing was out of the question even if he could
| have found any one who would lend him money,
| for Horace was not borrowing man.
| was almost much excited as Horace; for
| considered the case more important to me than
! to him. If in any way / could have raised the
money would not have hesitated moment to
/ buy the heel-turner, eveRif / should do nothing
| with it but to stow it away in corner. 1t would
have been cheap at any price. But, although the
income from my practice was sufficient for my
ordinary needs, it would be utterly impossible
for me to raise sum large enough to buy the
| right to the heelturner, and to set in motion
that machinery which should turn the heel so
/ to speak, of my existence.
/ Horace had made every effort possible to find
| purchaser, and we all began to be in despair.
was very much depressed, for if this affair
| settled than ever, and Belle might make up her
mind to cling to him through life, Jas many girl
| gives up true love and a happy home to Irvine
herself in dutiful spirals about some unfortu-
uate relative whose jagged trunk and branches
seem to need the protection of her Sheltering
| leaves With my feelings very plainly indicated
on my countenance, / was walking down the
main street of the village, when, in front of the
/ large house belonging to our lawyer, l saw
! John Broadly. John was a poor man and
very industrious one, who was held in high
repute by everybody in the place This good
fellow had had his troubles. but we all hoped
| that they were soon coming to an end. He was
at present toiling day after day and week after
week in the grounds of the lawyer, earnestly en-
gagged In working out divorce" that is to say,
he was digging and planting and doing anything
| else that might be required, until he had in this
way paid the costs of legal separation from his
! wife. When first came to the village found
Mrs. Broadly very peculiar invalid, with
| complication of diseases which not only taxed
| my abilities but aroused my ambition. For
nearly two years / attended her daily, and some
! times nightly, and supplied, besides, a good
deal of costly medicine and John was not able,
by means Of her many other requirements, to
| pay me cent But / felt rewarded by my great
| success, for entirely cured Mrs. Broadly, and
| thereby greatly raised my reputation in the
place. But, alas! it might have been better for
John If his wife had never recovered. When
she got well she made things SO hot for him and
| conducted herself generally in such q way that
everybody considered John justified when he
determined to apply for divorce. This he had
obtained, and he was now laboring hard, with
spade and wheelbarrow to pay for it
"Well, John, "said /, show are you getting on9"
| pretty we'll, Doctor" answered he, coming
| down to the front fence. I'm a couple of weeks
more I'll be done here, and then I'm square with
Mr. Forbes 1t seems little queerish that
should first pay him for getting rid of my wife
| before pay you for giving her back to me out
of the very claws of DEATH for it looked that way
to everybody. But when you're married and
settled, Doctor. and have grounds to be fixed up
| and garden to be made, III come and work for
you just as I am dom here I've had hard
| times, and have lost a good deal of money by
workin where was never paid; but unless my
legs and arms give out, Doctor, III see you don't
| lose anything by me-
SIM afraid l shall not want garden very
soon," answered: .'and it would seem a pity,
| anyway, for you to be working to pay for what
really caused you great deal Of misery. If it
| had not been for me, what lot of trouble you
would have been saved"
''Oh, you mustn't look tit that way, Doctor said
John, lit isn't pious. You cured her. which was
your duty, and l endured her as long as l could,
which was mine; and now she's happily gone,
and you can't imagine what comfort tits to me,
Doctor. to think that put her away we'll and
hearty. / never could a. rested happy if hadn't
done that. But you don't look happy. Has
things been goin wrongP'
| John took an interest I knew, in nv affairs
and SO did not object to tell him that was wor-
ried because l could not raise money enough to
| buy the heel-turner invention. He greatly
wondered why should want to make such
| o,A
out all the facts of the case. The worthy man
| was much amused, and burst on. laughing.
'Why, Doctor he exclaimed, chats as good
a story as I've heard this many day. 1t beats
nothing better to depend on than buying that
heel-t turner. Even if you could raise the money
it would be bad speculation. Them can't
turn heels will never knit"
AS l walked away from John Broadly could
| not help thinking of the amusement the recital
of my difficulty had given him. 1t was a good
! story; no doubt of It, AS my mind dwelt upon
the matter queer idea came to me. Suppose
were to write this story and by selling it raise
money enough to get us out or our troubles!
| There would be something delightfully."- fitting
| about that. To make the story of our perplexi-
! ties the cure of the natural troubles would be
an odd, but glorious, triunnh. This idea now
| took possession of my mi and the more |
| thought about it the better L liked it. Horace
and Belle might object to have this story told
but would not only keep my own counsel about
it, l would send it somewhere where they would
not see it. and thus nobody interested would
ever be annoyed.
l had frequently written stories which had
been heard with apparent satisfaction by my
friends, but had never published anything
and knew nothing in regard to the monetary
value of manuscripts such as I proposed to
| write
| determined to write the story There was
nothing else that could do and if the train of
circumstances on which our fortunes depended
should not be started until my work was done
l myself might do the starting, and I asked
nothing better than that
| By day and by night using every minute
| that could spare from my practice and neces-
sary sleep, worked at my story After what
seemed to me long period of waiting, rewriting
correction and copying, the manuscript was
| finished and ready to be sold / will not racn11nt