Connecticut western news., 1889-09-04
FOR ONE DAY.

FOR ONE DAY.
 The houses in the terrace were of gray stucco, with bow windows and flights of steps out of all proportion to their size. The main road ran along the bottom, and the remaining two sides were bounded by stretches of blank wall, above which few sickly plane trees were fluttering their leaves in the Au- gust air.
 Eleanor Lloyd, from her window in the roof, could see not only the wall and the plane trees, but, by dint of craning her neck, the High street itself, with it's ceaseless stream of trans and omnibuses. There was public house at the corner, and, as the door swung backward and forward, Eleanor caught glimpses of the lively barmaid behind her tall white tap handles. A group of flower girls, with uncurled feathers and straight fringes, stood outside on the pavement, testing with 'busmen and passers-by. Eleanor, who was 8 "lady" (heaven help herb, used some times to envy the barmaid and the flower girls their social opportunity.
 This evening, over everything, over the sordid street, the dusty trees, the clustering roofs-over the girl at the window with her pale face, strong young shoulders and shabby gown brooded the spirit of the tired summer. The summer, which, by stream and sea, is lusty from June to September. drags on weary and dispirited through its later weeks in the city.
 The hot, dusty, grit laden air blew from the east; it moved querulously among the plane trees, and lifted at in- tervals the hair on Eleanor's forehead.
 She had been sitting there all the af- ternoon, and now the sun was setting. There was nothing for her to do. Her little pupils in the neighboring square had gone to the sea; her brothers and sisters played noisily in the basement parlor; even poor Eddy had fallen asleep on the sofa, with the crutch that was of so little use to him, at his side.
 And now, as great red flame lit ur the west, there came over Eleanor one of those half-rapturous fits of longing those fierce yearnings for happiness which most of us know in youth which are not noble, not beautiful perhaps; certainly in no way to be en outraged: which are only infinitely cruel and infinitely sad.
 So the cry went up from her, tn, human, passionate cry from this help less, fluttering creature caught-oh the irony of it!-in pitiless networl of suburban streets.
 A man, with bent, shabby shoulder and tagging gait, turned up the terrac' from the High street.
 At the parlor window of the Lloyd' House wornout-looking woman, witt patient face, watched him and sighed
 In their youth, no doubt, the hus band and wife had dreamed of othe things than those long years of cease less labor with their scant reward.
 Hard-working, unassuming, deli cately just, he was not, perhaps, of tn stuff of which rich men are made.
 The children clamored up into tn parlor to greet their father. Edd, held out little thin hand from tn sofa; Eleanor, with the dreams stil in her dazzled eyes, slid into the dark ened room-darkened on behalf O carpet and curtains-and took he place at the teatable.
 s'Did you see your letter, father? said the wife, as she lifted the teapo of Britannia metal.
 Mir. Lloyd, who had taken the lon blue envelope from the mantelpiece laid it unopened beside his plate.
 The room was very hot, and tn blind Topped drearily in the wine There was 8 household loaf on th table, some thick, thin-spread brea