Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, 1885-06-11


garrulous ON the subject Of his prospective
luck. his mind was made up. He was quite
certain he would draw, and was merely liv-
ing through the interval before he made any
change in his business or surroundings. Ii
was really funny TO see his calm belief in
Jobs luck Everybody laughed at him on
the sly, believing il was all one Of his broad
burlesques of humanity, which he always
pretended to despise. He was a Dean Swift
in his contempt for people, except that in
stead of setting up horses as the superiors Of
men, he pinned his faith to alkgators. As
he wasn't the sort of man any one dared
ridicu9 % his face, his friends heard his
rhapso0es on Job with polite affectatior
Of seriousness.
Two DAYS after the drawing / stopped 10
se- my eccentric friend. The parrot was on
the doorstep, and when she saw me she
screamed out, How nowi Good Cassie,
what's the news with your and as / walked
by her she sidled up to me with an attitude
intended for tragic, and screeched, Thou
art villain, Thou art villainr The alli-
gator was promenading on the porch, and
Mr. Tyler was inside packing fiddle, some
books and his modest wardrobe in long and
aged looking trunk. Isat down. Desdemona
came to the door and, without reproof from
the head Of the house, looked at me with
fury in her eyes and yelled again and again,
Thou art villainl Thou art villain"
The delighted man was going away. Jobs
ticket had actually drawn ten thou
sand dollars. He showed me the newspa-
per report and his certificate Of deposit at
the bank. was overcome with surprise.
There seemed something uncanny about it
all. / got up feeling that | was moving
among unreal objects, and went odt ON the
porch to take another look at the gifted
beast that had brought this magic transition
about. he was moving over the hoor at
most dignified pace, the last creature under
the sun one would expect to be able to read
the future of a lottery ticket or anything
else.
| could not express my astonlshment TO
Mr.. Tyler simply looked il. IN, however,
acted as though nothing unusual had occur
red. IT was simply what he had expected.
He was going to Cuba for year Of rest
Job and pesdemona were to accompany him,
Of course He made some remark about the
climate there 'eing better for Jobs health.
We were chatting away comfortably when the
parrot stalked into the room, and standing
sluarely in front of me, put the embarrass-
ing interrogatory, "How long will We vex
my soul, and break me in pieces with wordsf'
III ssfl L.. oil tnaf
cried Then the diabolical bird mounted his
shoulder, and putting her head to his ear
caressingly. left the scriptures for Shake
speare md muttered, 'Its hard world, me
masters!' Then il walked out and rode the
alligator up and down the porch for vast
half-hour.
The next time passed the place the green
latticed door was locked, the shutters closed
and the house empty. Jobs palace in the
yard looked as desolate as the ruins Of Perse-
polls.
Six years later | met Mr.. Tyler by accident
in an Indiana country town. He was the
editor of the only newspaper in the place, a
'fearless and outspoken journal, of course.
As saw about him none of the signs Of
wealth, and in his conversation more cyni-
cism than Of old was noticeable, ventured to
ask il the winds on the financial seas had
been favorable. Naturally mentioned Job
and Desdemona in this inquiry.
''They ere both dead, bless their bones, -
said the cynic, ''and that is my only grief.
The money didn't stick IL never does, be-
lieve, when il comes that way. It's a kind
of legalized robbery, you know. Well, /
don't care for the loss Of ii. IL slipped away
by various routes, particularly after Jobs
death. It's curious, but while he lived l had
the best Of luck After he left me it rained
Disaster
''How did your pets der asked.
'Desdemona sickened and died the second
year we were in Cuba. She moped about
several days, and died one evening while =
was PLAYING the violin. job hal a more
tragic fate An old wall fell upon him while
he was sleeping in the shade one day. j
have been clone ever since, for you know i
don't care much for my own Species Here
the cynic's eyes seemed for a moment to see
something far in the past-something re-
.nembered with tenderness-then he sudden
ly began to talk Of his experiences as a rural
editor in Hoosierdom. and we spoke Of job
no more. GERTRUDE GARRISON.
NEW YORK. May z.