New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1885-06-17
l piled the brass knocker and was
answered by pleasant looking farm

piled the brass knocker and was
answered by pleasant looking farm
er.
"Any clocks you would ike to have
repaired to-day?'
oval, now, I dun:.know; there's that
old clock father left me. give allus
thought I'd like to have that put to
rights
Every we'll, I would be pleased to
straighten it up for you'
''What do you charged
zone dollar, sir
''Ihat's morn its worth. I'll give
you quarter an your dinner?''
Cali right, sir. Ell do IT,
Fortunately he did not wait for me
to finish my work before dinner, he
took me at once to the kitchen.
wonder what the old fellow thought
of my appetite, l saw him watching
me with an astonished look.
Don't you wish you had given me
dollar instead of my dinner?' slipped
out of my mouth before l thought.
Il swan do, replied he with guf-
taw. ''But. if you can tinker as we'll
as you can eat, | won't find no fault"
After dinner he conducted me to a
pleasant sitting room and placed an
old fashioned clock upon the table for
me to manipulate.
He then left me. l looked at that
clock with defiance and tackled it with
vim. It came to pieces readily
enough. All could do was to rub il
little and put it together again, but
would do that much any way.
AS | was busy securing up the dust
covered wheels, I became conscious
that there were some girls in the next
room taking an unseen survey of N.Y.
self and my doings. The door be-
tween us was wide open, and I could
hear them tittering as they looked
through the crack behind the door.
could hear too the click of a sewing
machine and the rustic of cloth in that
forbidden domain, but I concentrated
my mind upon my work, and soon
began to wonder if ever l could put
the thing together again.
| tried it; it was vain endeavor. l
changed it a half-dozen times but still
it was no 20. What was to be done?
| called my futile brain to my aid, and
was about to inform my employer that
| had left some very important tools
where had last piled my trade, and
propose to go back for them before fin
ishing my work, and thus escape,
when heard from the next room a
different sound from that of the sew
ing machine.
1t was that of an improvised tele-
graph. The tapping OF some hard SUBJ
stance upon the window pane and to
my experienced ear it said:
s'Look under your chair. You
have dropped one of the wheels -
Iglanced quickly around. There Law
the wheel. Instead of picking it up, I
tapped with my jack-knife upon the
"Who on earth are you?''
can old friend,'' came back
promptly.
Bismarck" l shouted, bounding
into the other room overturulng table
and clock in my haste.
There she was, the precious darling,
prettier than ever.
L caugnC nef IN my arms never need
ing the astonished lookers.on, and
Rugged her and kissed her with all the
pent up fondness of five years, and she
returned the kisses.
She will not own it now, but she did,
would take my oath to it, but then
I've heard that women forget all about
their young days when they are once
settlad in life
Bismarck informed me that her par
ents had died of cholera almost
as soon as they had landed in Paris,
and that she had returned to
America and had sewed for her living
ever since.
put that clock together before 1
started for town, and what was more
astonishing, the thing actually run for
months afterwards.
That quarter carried me to my uncle s
where | became a gentleman OF consid.
cradle Importance, and after a short
time Bismarck and myself were mar
RED
No, my uncle did not die and leave
us all his property, but for ali that we
arc the happiest couple in St. Louis.
for with my darling Bismarck, money
does not make the man. Sara 3.
Rose, IN Chicago Ledger.