The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, 1885-11-24
LITTLE KATE AND I.

no rich relations to leave us le28cleS OF
to send pearl necklaces, diamond orna-
,ments, or thousand dollar bonds for
wedding presents. I was simply a
brakeman on the Eastern Michigan
railway a long and lonely stretch of
rails over desolate marshes, steep
mountain grades, and solitary sweeps
of prairie land; she was the bright-eyed
waitress in one of the restaurants
along the line. But when I fell from
the platform when the great accident
happened, you heard Of the great &C
cident, I suppose, when there was such
a shocking loss Of life-it was Katie's
care and nothing else that brought me
back into the world l had so nearly
quilted for good and all!
II would have done it for anybody,
MarkT' said she, when I tried to thank
her.
"Would you?" said I. "But it isn't
everybody that would have done it for
me. Kate!"'s ~.
So I asked her to marry me, and she
said yes. And / took a little cottage
on the edge of the Swampscott woods,
and furnished it as. we'll as I could.
with red carpet, ~cheesecloth curtains
at the windows, a real Connecticut
clock. and a set Of walnut chairs that
I made myself, with seats of rushes,
woven in by old Billy, the Indian. who
carried his baskets and mats around
the country. and Mrs. Perkins, the
parsons wife, made us a wedding cake,
and so we were married. Pretty soon
I found out that Kate was pining a
aittle.
What is it, sweetheart? ' said /.
Remember, it was a contract between
us that we were to have no secrets
from each other | Are you not per-
fectly happy?"
ooh, yes, yes" cried Kate, hiding
her face on my shoulder. "But it's
my mother, Mark. She's getting old,
andif I could only go East to see her,
just once before the Lord takes her
away r.
It was then 1 felt the sting of my
poverty most. If I had only been a
rich man to have handed her out a
check, and said: "Go at oncew I
think l could have been quite happy.
Never mind, sweetheart" said I,
stroking down her hair. "WeIl lay
up a few dollars from month to month,
and you shall go out and see her be-
fore she dies 7" 6 ...-s.a
And with that little Kate was forced
to be content. But there was a hun
CRY, homesick look upon her face
which went to my heart to see. AL
One stormy autumn night we were
belated on the road, for the wind was
terrible. shaking the century old pines
and oaks. as if they were nothing more
than tall swamp grasses. and driving
through the ravines with a shrek and
a howl like a whole pack Of hungry
wolves. sAIdyth heavy rains had.
raised the streams so that we were
compelled togo carefully and slowly.
over the bridges and keep a long look
ahead for fear Of accidents. Is,
was standing at my post. in front
Of the second passenger car, stamping
my feet on the platform to keep them
warm, and hoping little Kate would
not be perturbed at my long Absence
when the news agent came chuckling
out:
.We'-e oUstop at, stumpville sta
tion." saidshe. 80 + a.
Nonsense" said j. "Isknow better.
n train neve stops short of Wau-
kensha city, least of all when we are
running to make up fol. lost time, as
we are to- night." : Ek4f3$4Jb
ooh, but this is an exceptional occa-
SION" said Johnny Mills (Which was
the news agents nancy "We're 60
ing to put an old woman off. She has
lost her ticket, she says. More likely
sho never had one. Goes on as though
she had her pockets picked"
"Whice Is the one1" said I, turning
to look at the end window Of the car
which was at the rear. e@2Rsg
Don't you see? The old party at
the back Of the twogfat women IN sne
red shawls. She's haranguing Jones
now" "A
IL see" said I. 1t was q little old
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