The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1890-08-19

Certain rtses'of pay--ample for 4 pov-nrs
ssnouge Tor wife and child-certaits,v 100
n nss 1or tne 7O0-rupee passage that he and
-tls. nat nad discussed so Lightly once
fa..us .ue ume And with this he was
2omen0w, all his money seemed to
iaoe away In home drafts and the crushing
cAcnanSes and the tone of the home letters
Suange9 ana grew queruious. why.
wouidn's DIcky have his wife and the
uapy outY Surely he had salary--a fine
e. 8: ary-and It was too bad of him to enjoy
himself in India. And would he-couId
ne-make the next draft q little more
eiastic." Here followed q list OF baby's
NJ. as long as . Parsee's bill. Then
Uicky. whose heart yearned 10 his wife
and the little SON he had never seen
winch, again, Is q feeling no boy is entitled
0-eniarged the draft and wrote queer
naai-Doy, Mailman letters, saying that life
was not so enjoyable after all and would
tne nttie wife wait yet . little longerf But
the little vile, however much she approved
OF money, objected to waiting, and there
WAS strange. hard sort of ring in her let
ters that Dicky didn't understand. How
could he, poor boy?
Later on still. just as Dicky had been told
--apr0pos of another youngster who had
made fool of himself" as the saving is
mat mafrimony would not only ruin his
further advancement but would lose him
nis present appointments came the news
tnat the baby, his own little, little son, had
died and, behind this. forty lines of an
angry woman's scrawl. saying the
death might have been averted if certain
Things, all costing money. had been done.
or II the mother and the baby had been
with Dicky. The letter struck at Dicky's
naked heart, but not being officially en-
titled to baby, he could show no sign of
trouble
uor. p;,,-v 49,
months, and what hope he kept alight to
force him into his work, no one dare say.
he pounded on the 100 rupee passage as
far away as ever and his style of living un-
changed, except when he launched into a
new litter. There was the strain of his
office work, and the strain of his remit
tances, and the knowledge of his boys
death. which touched the boy more per-
haps than it would man: and, beyond ali.
the enduring strain of his daily life. Gray
headed seniors who approved of his thrift
and his fashion of denying himself every
thing pleasant, reminded him of the old
saw that says:
IF youth would be Dist nsuished in his art
He must ]. keep s the girls away from his heart.
And Dicky, who fancied he had been
through every trouble that man is permit
ted to know. had to laugh and agree: with
the last line of his balanced bank book
jingling in his head day and night.
But he had one more sorrow to digest be-
fore the end. There arrived letter from
the little wife-the natural consequence of
the others if Dicky had only known it,
and the burden of that letter was ssgone
with q handsomer man than you" 1t was
rather curious production, without
stops. something like this: "She was not
going to wait forever ana the baby was
dead and Dicky was only a boy and he
would never set eyes on her again and why
hadn't he waved his handkerchief to her
when he left Gravesend and God was her
judge she was q wicked woman but Dicky
was worse enjoying himself in India and
this other man loved the ground she trod
on and would Dicky ever forgive her for
she would never forgive Dicky; and there
was no address to write to.
Instead of thanking his stars that he was
free. Dicky discovered how an injured hus-
band feels again. not at all the knowledge
to which q bow is entitled-for his mind
went back to his wife as he remembered
her in the thirty shilling "snite" in Mont
pelier square, when the dawn of his last
morning in England was breaking
be rolled about on his bed and
bit his fingers. He never stopped 20 think
whether, if he had met Mrs. HIATT after
those two years, he would have discovered
that he and she had grown quite different
and new persons. This, theoretically, he
ought to have done. He spent the night
after the English mail came in rather Sc
we're pain.
Next morning, Dicky HIATT felt disin-
clined 70 work. He argued that be had
missed the pleasure of youth. He was
tired. and he had tasted all the sorrow in
life before three and twenty. His honor
was gone--that was the man; and now
- a. y. -
the boy in him. So he put his head down
on the green oilcloth table-cover. and wept
before resigning his post and all it offered.
But the reward of his services came. He
was given three days to reconsider himself,
and the head of the establishment, af er
some telegraphings. said that it was mo t
unusual step, but in view of the ability
that Mr.. HIATT had displayed at such anu
such q time. at such and such junctures,
be was in position to offer him an infin-
itely superior post--first on probation, and
later, in the natural course of things, on
confirmation. "And how much does the
post carry7" said Dicky. six hundred
and fifty rupees" said the head slowly, ex-
pectiRg to see the young man sink with
gratitude and joy.
And it came then! The seven hundred
rupee passage. and enough to have saved
the wife and the little son, and to have
allowed of assured and open marriage,
came then. Dicky burst into roar OF
aughter-laughter he coutd not check
nasty, jangIing merriment that seemed as
if it would 90 on forever. When he had
recovered himself he said quite seriously:
"I'm tired of work. I'm an old man now.
It's about time retired. And will"
s.The boys madi" said the head.
] think he was right; but Dicky HIATT
never reappeared to settle the question.
RupYARp KILLING.
ORIGIN OF SPRINGS.