Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1890-11-01

was old no longer. She was young Lucy
Ives, the prettiest girl in Bilbury, and
she was setting forth along the brightest
pathway that ever opened before will
ing woman's feet. No, she was not Lucy
Ives, either; she was Lucy Fosdick now;
for was not handsome Isaac Fosdick sit
ting there beside her? And had not Par
son Babbitt pronounced them man and
wife two hours ago? There was her new
black satchel under the seat, and there
was certain little hair trunk somewhere
on top with the driver. Ike and he had
slowed it away carefully, and they were
rolling along the river road to BickfUid
As fast AZ Bill Hankin's best team could
take them; the woods and fields looked
greener and more sunshiny than she ever
remembered to have seen them before,
and glad, new life, with all the thun-
der heads Of possible trouble or care be-
low its wide horizon line, lay stretching
out before them.
On and on. The coach jounced q good
deal; could it be that she was getting
tired already? To-o-ot--to-o-ot-
-tootl Lucy Fosdick sat up and rubbed
her eyes. Alasl the cheeks she touched
were wrinkled ones, and the hands were
tddnss thin and nd.,Sg wrinkled; toe Ike was no
fast team had long since been out trotted
by Time, and shrieking iron horse was
whirling one lone, old woman along to
the great, strange, bewildering city.
Whirling, it seemed to her, when, after
long, tedious wait at the junction, she
took her place in the crowded car, though
it was slow enough, even for way train.
It was late afternoon when the train
drew heavily into the great, echoing
station, wherein, to her poor old ears,
which had only known sweet country
sounds for fifty years, pandemonium
seemed to have broken loose, and, with
one accord, to be charging down upon her.
cts all differ'nt," she murmured,
making her weary way along the inter-
minable platform, IAN Isick aint here.
/ most wish hadn't a come" For .
moment the little black bonnet dropped,
but 1t was lifted again with tremulous,
quaint defiance.
And grasping the satchel tightly, ~
though to stay herself upon the contact
with something that had outlasted
change, she looked up with deter
mined air into the strange, eager faces
Of twenty clamorous hackmen. One Of
them slipped out from behind the bar
and took tho satchel from her hand.
"You want to go somewheres, don't
you, mum? Where do you want to goT'
"Be you tie stage driver" she queried
innocen.ly. The mans eyes twinkled,
but he answered gravely enough: "Well,
yes, drive kind Of a stage. Where
abouts did you want to go?
"Is-is the Astor house stan'in' YETI
She looked wistfully and beseechingly
up at him, as II mutely beseeching him
not to say no. The man, without clearly
understanding why, was touched, or, ~
he put it to himself, felt "all kind Of
queer like"
"Oh, yes, mumr' he replied with sus-
picious cheeriness, "thatn STAN as long
as New York does, reckon. But it's q
terrible long ways down town: hadn't
you better 60 somewheres nearerf"
mo, must go there. I'm dretful glad
kim" she added, huskily. II amt been
in the city this fifty years. you see, an
there's deal gone since then. / didn't
know but that might ha' gone too"
There were tears Of relief in the anx-
ious eyes as she sank back upon the soft
cushions of the carriage. Now that the
strain Of uncertainty was over she felt
strangely weak. She scarcely stirred
during all the long drive down town.
Even her eyes grew'tired Of watching
the endless rows of buildings and the
seething crowd Of faces that hemmed
her in on every side.
sits no use," she thought at last, clos
ing them YEARLY. "It's all terrible
strange. Eveything's differ'nt, an l
don't seem to care for 'em now Isick amt
here"
It was o very feeble, tired old lady that
the kindly driver set down at last on tho
steps of the Astor house. He said q few
words privately to the porter who took
her satchel, guided her to the ladies' par
lor and summoned q chambermaid.
"This old lady wants ROOM" he said
to the latter, passing on the hackman's
information, IAN guess you'd better
see to her little. She seems pretty well
played out"
"Give me No. 45, il you can" put In
the old lady. eagerly. GIVE had that
room afore," she hastened to add, seeing
the look of surprise on their faces.
"Played out" she certainly was. She
could scarcely climb the broad, low
stairs, and walked SO wearily along the
corridor that the good natured chamber
maid was fain to offer her her arm for
support.
"Are you going to put me in No. 459'
queried the sweet old voice, tremulously,
as they went past door after door, along
way which began to seem strangely IA
miliar, like the places one has seen in
dreams.
"No, ma'am, not 45," replied the girl,