The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1888-03-24

as | can't prove it suppose you'll ride
tor nothing for all of me.
And he went on.
When he was gone Parks said:
'We'll be wanting some more proofs
Of our identity, m afraid. Can't we
make some p
He hunted through his pockets and
found letter from his wife, written
with lead pencil. She signed her name
at the end, "Your affectionate wife,
Lizzie Parks" He rubbed out the
Parks and wrote Hayward instead. He
hadn't more than got it done when
back came the conductor.
'Have you any other papers beside
what are in that sachel that would prove
who you were?"
81 may have" said Parks.
He fumbled in his pockets awhile
and finally brought out his wife's letter.
The conductor took that letter and
he read 1t through twice and he dldn'
know what to make of it. He saw we
had him, and he just dropped the letter
and lit out without another word. But
he was about the maddest man we ever
saw. OF course he knew Parks wasn't
Hayward, however much he might
prove that he was.
After the conductor had gone and
we'd just begun to breathe freely, a
man in front, who'd been listening to
what was going on, turns around and
says to me:
Excuse me, sir ; but did | under
stand that your name was Wells, Heze-
lliah Wells, of Branch county, Mich -
81 guess that's about what you un-
derstood," said |.
II want to know" says he. Well,
I'm mighty glad to meet you. l used
to know the Wellses In Syracuse, York
state. Knew your folks as well as |
did my own. l don't suppose you re-
call me. My names Bangs, Orville
Bangs, one of Squire Bangs sons.
| pretended to recollect him, though
of course | never heard of the Bangses.
He was windy fellow, and talked so
loud everybody in the car heard him
and was listening.
"No, couldn't expect you to re-
member much about me-" he went on.
"You went out to Michigan about the
time our folks moved to Michigan. But
l knew the rest of your family like a
book. | used to be sweet on your
sister Maria, used to take her to sing
ing school. Land how she could
sing She was mighty fine looking
girl in those days. She married, didn't
she?"
eyes," says l, "she's married and
she's well and happy now
"Well and happy!" exclaims he.
"Why, man alive l thought she died
| know she did, for they sent me a
paper containing an account of the
funeral"
"Why, yes, Maria died." says Parks,
looking hard at me. You know she
did, Wells"
"Oh, yes, of course she did" says l.
Yes, Maria's dead. She's gone, poor
thing?" And l tried to look sad over
it.
"What in thunder do you mean by
saying she was well and happy?' de
manded Bangs, suspiciously.
"She's better off than if she was
here" says l, solemnly. "We'd all be
better off,"
81 am not so sure of that" says he,
laughing. "But, perhaps that'sthe way
you look at it,
About that time Parks and | changed
our seat On account of the draught, and
when we got away from that fellow we
had good laugh over it. For days
after that Parks would have spells OF
asking me how Maria was.
We didn't meet any more old friends.
We went to New Orleans and looked
around awhile, then went up into
Georgia.
The Georgia people are right cordial
folks. The conductor looked quite
impressed when we let on who we were
and pretty soon he came back and
said:
"Gentlemen, we've got the president
of this road and couple of superin-
tendents on this tram going up the
road apiece. They're out in the smok-
ing car. l told them there was a pres
ldent and secretary of Northern road
IN car back here, and they said they'd
be right glad to meet you. They d like
to have you come out and smoke with
them"
"Well, l dou't smoke" says Parks.
There was a cigar sticking out of his
pocket at that very minute. But if you
get ahead OF Parks you've got to get up
early in the morning.
"Perhaps Mr.. Wells does" says the
conductor. Now | really don't, you
know. But they'd like to have talk
with you, any way. Our president
thinks he met Mr.. Hayward once up
north.
That settled Parks.
"Im much obliged to the gentlemen
for their politeness," he SAID, "but the
fact is l amt felling real well, and
cigar smoke always makes me faint"
"I'm sorry" says the conductor.
"They'n be disappointed. Youth come,
Mr.. Wells?
| followed him out into the smoking
Car, but l tell you l felt shaky. The