Nevada County picayune., 1886-02-10
CARRRY'S CUSTOMER.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.

My first day at tho store!" said Carry Wallingford, with curious thrill through her. as if an ice cold stream were trickling down the line of her spinal column. "Oh. l wish were rich girl, and didn't have to workr'
 "Work is honorable. my child" said old Uncle Wolsey, who with his spectacle on his nose, was try ing to spell through the illegible paragraphs of the daily paper, muttering to himself that "either they didn't print as good as they used to, or else his old eye.sight was failing"
 "Yes, ! kncw," fluttered Carry; "but-I'm very willing that some one else should have the honor this time"
 Uncle Wolsey turned his glasses with mild reproach, upon his nece's pink and white balsam of a face.
 "My girl," said he, "you're not afraid of work, are youg'
 No, unclep Carrie faintly ans wered, "but you know its all so strange"
 "It won't be strange long;;" cheerily encouraged the old man. Its wonderful how soon the good Lord accustoms us to things. when once wo set about our duty"
 II wish l could be as brave as you, Uncle Wolsey" said Garry, as she tied the crimson strings of her little cspote under her round chin.
 Old Wolsey Wallingford had sheltered his little lamb by his hearth fold all her lifetime until now. He was a jeweler by trade and he kept his unpretending store as long as possible. But the tide of fashion went by. and left him stranded on the unfrequented side street where the sign of the tar mshed silver watch attracted no further attention.
 And one day when he had sat all day in the window with his magni- fying glass, working at some i'm possible old time piece, whose owner had died snd .never called for it, the twilight crept darbly ov. CT his eyesight and his heart. He laid down his tools.
 All day long" said he, "and never a customer! Well.a day! it is time for the old man to shut up his store at last"
 He went out aud put mp the wooden shutters with heart that was heavier than they, and from that time thenceforward, the wood. en imitation of the silver watch no longer swung over the door.
 Uncle Wolsey had been con ouered in life's battle, and had laid down his arms, and now 1t was that Carry reluctantly threw her self into the breach.
 How could she let the dear old man starve? And Mir. PickrelPs fancy and dry goods store on Sixth avenue was really q very credita- ble establishment, and Mrs. Pick rell herself had promised, from the severe heights of the cashiers desk ,"to keep an eye" upon old Mir, Wallingford's niece, and if her ser vices proved desirable, there was no sort of doubt but that her sala- rv would be increased in time.
 So Carry buttoned mp her sack, drew on her neat lisle-thread gloves and took the little basket, in which wrapped in a napkin was packed her lunch of apple pie and cheese, and went forth 10 meet her new career, little reckoning how brief it was to be.
 At first it was not very pleasant. The store was small and stuffy, with gorgeous piles of ofcretonne and intz at the door, and festoons of laces, silk handkerchiefs and col ored jerseys Tapping against the heads of the girls behind the coun- ter, of whom there were three be- sides CarIy-bold, high-voiced damsels, who wore their hair down over the bridge of their noses, and giggled necessarily
 Customers came and went, change was was made, and paper parcels expeditiously wrapped up.
 MT. Pickrell walked the floor with his hands in his pockets, or