The Ketchum keystone. [volume] (Ketchum, Idaho) 1885-1899, 1888-12-15
BEATTIES APPARITION.

BEATTIE'S APPARITION.
The city was creeping up that way;
there was no manner of doubt about that.
Indeed, why should one say it was creep
ing up? 1t had crept up already TO be
sure, there were lone blocks here and
there as yet, defined solely by a line of
curbstOnes, intersected at right angles by
unpaved roads that, after rains, turned
into canals of OOZing mud, and beStrewed
over their quadrangular expanse with
elected tomato cans, old shoes and such
rubbish generally as habituaky tenants
those waste suburban spaces given over to
to the frOlicsOme gOat-blOcks, in short,
which belated wayfarer in the vicinity Of
the park would be apt to pass through ut
more or less rapid pace after 10 O'Clock
at night.
But other blocks again were, always
with gaps and hlatuses of empty lots be-
tween, what one might call built up. A
semi rural mode of life obtained with the
inhabitants, some of whom kept few
chickens in their yards. Many Of these
| houses were divided into flats, and the sep
arate dwellings brought low rents, as yet.
1t was a refuge within city limits for bust
ness men who had failed honorably, not
being quite abreast of the progressive
spirit of the times, and for unambitious
young people beginning life-of these there
|. were not many.
Now, a number of these houses-in
fact whole rows here and there in the vi
cinity-were owned by Timothy Pinck-
| ney, and it has been said that they
brought comparatively low rents. Never
%1>olo Ill
| knew that the rents would increase by
| and by And he held ON to- his property
and dreamed dreams of the future when
| it would make him many times a million
| aire.
| This prospective millionaire, with now
more money in his Golfers than any one
| knew, lived in two-stOry white frame
| house whose rear yard was contingent to
| the rear Of some of those very houses
| owned by him. No one ever saw the in
side of that two story frame dwelling for
| the simple reason that Timothy had no
| friends, relatives or acquaintance. He
| had a daughter, to be sure-a young,
| plump and black eyed thing, with long,
| demure lashes, who occasionally appeared
| at the door when tinman came around
| to negotiate exchanges of old bottles and
rags. But Timothy evidently intended to
| keep his Bertha's charms safely away
| from the covetous eyes of gallants. The
| women of the neighborhood-fo instance,
| the undertaker's wife across the lot-were
quite aware that black eyed Bertha never
had a new frock from years end to years
end; no, "nOr new bunnit, NEITHER
Well, Timothy was pitiless and pitt
| full old miser; there was no question of
| that And, seeing that he was progress
| ing in years, he ought to have commenced
| to realize, mark and repent of the evil
| of his course. But it is safe to surmise
| that his conscience had given him no I'M
| easiness of any sort this long time past.
| His digestion was as satisfactory as that
of an ostrich and his thoughts were pleas
antly occupied with airy OF arduOus COM
putatiOns, as the case might be, day in
and day out When the stomach and the
brain are thus in good condition it is as
tonishing how little place there remains
for conscience in all the human mechan-
ism.
However, one hot night in June Tim
othy came home not feeling quite SO well
as usual. The day had been sultry and
he had walked about a great deal in the
busy martS of commerce down town and
in the sun. He had headache and it
made him cross But after Bertha had
gotten him his supper, and he had no ap-
petite for it, these novel phenomena made
him pensive instead.
He went out in his back yard and sat
down on an overturned barrel and began
to breathe the evening air. 1t was heavy,
and compounded of many local and in
digenous odors, not all of them pleasant
On one side there was gap in the wooden
rails OF the fence. That gap opened out
upon several empty corner lots, rocky in
places, and gave an uninterrupted view Of
the CHASTITY undertaker's emblem by the
side of that functionary's dwelling, di-
agOnally across on the next street.
Timothy could not see it this evening. 1t
was too dark. But he knew it was there,
and the knowledge somehow was uncOm-
Portable.
A more agreeable object of contempla-
ton presented itself in the row of build
ings before him, the row which represented
a. portion of his possessions But his
mind seemed determined to take new
course this evening. His thoughts, start
ing from the row of buildings, began to
travel backward over the years gone by,
and the first acquisitions which had
marked them. For the first time in
Lord! how many years?-he thought of
Beattie. Now, there was no denying that
the first of his good luck had begun with
his acquaintance with Beattie Beattie
had given him a great deal of good advice.
Yes, and he was very sorry that things
turned out just as they did with regard to
Beattie. Very sorry. But q man has got
to look out for himself. Timothy now re-
peated that assertion to himself, rising in
rebellion against this suddenly resurrected
pang of guilty conscience; repeated it
with heat. Some people might say that
he had ruined Beattie-Beattie, who had
been his first friend-and left him to die
in the poorhouse; but he, Timothy Pinck-
ney, would always stand up and say that
a man must look out for himself firstl
Must look out for himself
In the excitement of these unexpected
retrospective memories, Timothy, who had
been sitting there in the pure night much
longer than he knew raised mn his hand