The Opelousas courier., 1885-10-03
MY SECRETARY.

AL AA4StO SbLAo l. LoS bOSA4 w Va n
ers of a weekly journal, of which he
ruled the roost in town, and l more
humbly undertook the country branch,
and obeyed his behests down in Liver
pool had only seer him very occa-
sionally, for though he was reported
to be as kind as he vas eccentric, we
did not pull very well together.
Hence my grief at his decease was
deep enough to be respectable. and
having installed our chief clerk at Liv-
erpool, | cheerfully came up to the
London Office as my uncle's sole heir.
This identical morning, on which I
was rolling downward in q Fulham
bus, was the first on which | was 60
ing regularly to work.
There were eleven of us inside, and
when the conductor gave us a hasty
survey, and then opened the door, l
am sure there was not one among us
who did not sincerely hope that the
new ONE might prove a tolerably
slim man. Instead of a man it was a
girl.
She slipped into the vacant place
and then we were off again. She was
a particularly nice girl. Her hair was
yellow. her lips were red, and her eyes
were blue, and such a vivid little bit
OF coloring was quite a relief after the
stolid monotony of the bearded faces
round her. Her ulster was thin and
worn, and her gloves were a miracu-
lous proof of how much darning one
pair could stand; but it was neither
her pretty face nor her shabby clothes
that attracted me. No; it was her
own exceeding happiness. She was
childishly happy; almost idiotically SO,
] thought at last, for there she was,
with her big eyes sparkling with fun,
and the dimples playing at hide-and-
seek round her mouth. What on
earth was she thinking about? She
could not have been more than nine
teen or so, and carried with her q roll
OF manuscript ina ~business-like sort
Of way al if the document were her
own.
When I was put down in Flint
street, I noticed that she, too, left the
omnibus, but I was not prepared to
g her precede me into the Office
and vanish up the staircase. All my
life ! had nourished a special detesta-
ton for writing-women; SO it was
with a considerable amount of anger
that / turned round on old Jones, who
had a seat in the lower room, and
asked him who was the lady who had
just passed me.
Old Jones was my uncle's foreman
an ancient highly-respectable, MOTTO
be-got-rid-of sort of a man, who had
come into the office at such a remote
date that it was lost in the midst of
the Middle Ages.
Lady, echoed the foreman. Il
oh yes to be sure. beg pardon,
Sir, but for the moment / thought you
meant someone with letters or manu-
script, and they always come in here.
If she went straight upstairs it was
Miss Charity Landor."
What does she want, and who is
she?" I asked: and IL old Jones had
thrown a thunderbolt by way of an
swer, / could not have been more as
founded than ! was by his reply.
ashe is your secretary" he said.
"My secretary | exclaimed.
ssGood Heavensi / won't have a girl
for o secretary
"You must" said old Jones, and
then he proceeded to explain.
Mr. Landor, it appeared, had been
my uncie's secretary for some three
years, when n morning his daughter
had arrived in his stead saying that
her father was unwell, and might she
not undertake his work for a couple
of days? My uncle agreed, and the
girl did the work, and did it 50 credi-
tably, old Jones declared, that his mas
ter was only too glad to retain her
when it proved that, as regards writ
ing, 9 paraiytic stroke had placed MFR.
Lander on the shelf.
.And so,' persued my informant,
Miss Cherry has been here going on a
year now. and IL you dismiss her
you'n excuse me, sir-but you'll get
yourself into q pretty pickle. She
knows aIl about everybody. and The
correspondence, and
sThis Is poor rubbish" / interrupted
lofty, for Il was hardly a soothing
suggestion that my future success de-
pended on 9 slip Of q girl.