Custer chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, Black Hills, D.T. [S.D.]) 1880-1890, 1888-10-27

Worst thing in the world for weak
eyes, young woman.
The young woman looked up from
the magazine in her lap and smiled ut
her gray bearded mentor on the oppo-
site SIDE Of the street car. She smiled
with her whole face-dimpled chin, red
cheeks, full lips; eves the eyes behind
the convex glasses OF her pL4cC ne;
tWiuklcd.
Thank you,' she said. shutting the
book softly, =! know ii. ] was merely
glancing ut the pictures
Then she turned her amused glance
toward the front part OF the car, and
met the eyes of the driver staring
straight at her. His face lighted up
when her glance met his. and with his
rough @loye he pat;cd the left side Of
his coat, as though it shielded some
thing which concerned her.
The car was II OF those little
whceed boxes locally known rs the
Pound Gap Bob-iails," which ply be-
tween Cincinnati, Ohio, and its Ken
lucky suburb, Newport. The driver,
sole autocrat. dividing his time among
the mules, as passengers and the small
boys who everywhere mark bob-tail
cars for their own was muilicd to the
mouth in IN old oilskin coat, bcltcd AT
the waist with n leather strap. His
cap was pulled down to shield his face
from the rain. into the teeth of which
he was forced 10 drivc, and when he
entered the car TO collect the fares his
heavy cowhidc boots completed Il gro
tcsQuc picture, which would have at
traclCd attention even in Castle Garden.
Evidently he cared less for style than
for comfort.
What is the fare to Ncwport?'
Ten cents, please"
| started at the musical voice, and
looked at the IN closely.
''Wh-a-t?'l O., not Ferguson of
the Gazctte}'
Same party, dear boz, same party"
He laughed in the honest, whole
souled way that | knew 30 wcli. rang
the bell of his punch twice, smiled nj
the pretty girl, VINO seemed TO enjoy my
surprise, and then clattcrcd out - his
place at the brake, whore ! presently
joined HIN.
This is rough, Ferguson, dcuced
rough-S12 a week and seventeen hours
a day! Can't You do better than this?"
.Classical occupation, dear boy. One
Of the children of Greek mythology, you
Wiz remember, aspired to drive Il car
his fathers car, but while his route was
a trlfe dryer than mine"
at was not necessary for him to make
a guy of himself in cowhide boots. That
girl inside is laughing at you
Il Know it. She always does when
she rides with me-"
He looked through the glass door Of
the car, and again patted the side of his
coat when he met the young woman's
eye. The gesture seemed to please her.
Another case Of the maiden and the
coaclman," remarked Ferguson, rs he
slowed mp to take on a passenger. Eyi-
IDENTITY he had lost none of his high
spirits since he had driTted out of
journalism into street car service.
"But seriously now, don't you know
her?"
mo, | cannot say that l do" | said,
severely.
That's Virginia.
| looked again at the girl She was
as charming a specimen OF young
WOlllallDOOu rs Is often mel WITH even
in the cultured parts of Kentucky. The
infantile checks and dimplcd chin
toned down the severity of her eye
glasses, and from the brown plume in
her hat to the narrow toe of her shoe
she was what is popularity known as
stylish" Du Maurier might have
copied her pose for that Of one of his
high-bred women.
Yes, sir, that's Virginia. You have
laughed at my verses to her for three
years, and if we drop all the passengers
before the end of the route is reached 1
VIII take you inside and present. you.
She knows you by name already. !
have talked with her about you a hum
dred times. She likes that little story
OF yours, The Cruise of the Mermaid
immensely, and always looks up your
column the first thing in the Clarion"
Then he seemed to drift into another
line of thought.
''Yes, sir, it is rough" he said;
eighteen hours a day, seven days in
the week, is toe many hours for a mar
to work; but, thank God, l am done!
This is my last trip. 1 have something
heren-he tapped the left side of his