Omaha daily bee., 1890-01-02

or no civil service, Tor three administra-
II | wasn't right Id been left
long ago.
Robert Pcrcival laughed. He was
the assistant third-class postmaster.
Glddy young girls, who wrote silly c1u-
sions aud bothered percival u dozen
times q day for equally silly swe to
their letters, pronounced that individ-
ual very handsome. Their fathers and
brothers said he was II puppy, who
would have gone to the dogs If old Tom
Wilson hadn't glued him down u
stamps.
The third-class postmaster wiped his
t%hrobbing brain. | mean the hard shell
outside of it,. His somewhat exciting
sclf-catcchism had brought perspira-
tion to the surface in great beads of
dirt, for he and Percival worked in n
close, dusty room. Half an hour after
ward the twins walked into the post
Office.
flow are you, Mr.. sOmers? Hot
weather, Mr.. Edgar.n came In one
breath from Wilson, as he opened the
stamp window and beamed upon The
brothers, Alfred was invariably adj
dressed rs MIR. Somers,' because he
was the elder, having entered upon his
inheritance m hour and twenty minutes
before Edgar first blinked ut daylight.
''Quite sultry, Mr.. Wilson, said AL
fred, 'but there are rain clouds in the
west. Any letters for mc?'
only, one, sir, today. It's from
Europe"
"What!' exclaimed both brothers,
with agitation which they could not
repress. ''Can there, at last, be news?
We have had no foreign correspondence
for three years"
Here it isl' said the third-class
postmaster indulging himself with u
quiet smirk at his own sagacity.
The c%uriously directed letter Il
handed out and passed to Alfred's hand
to Edgar's from lldgar's back into
Alfrcd's. They could not understand
it,.
THAT'S right cried Wilson. Its
yours. If it belongs to one. it belongs
to both, for the best man in this town
was born twice on the same day."
Percivai laughed again. 1t gratiiied
the third-class postmaster to know that
he had so ~appreciativc a clerk.
No, Mr.. Wilson, this cannon be
meant for me-" said Edgar. 1T must
contain something important, and
brother Alfred ought to open it. He's
the best man 1 ever knew since father
died"
amen to that with all my hearth
exclaimed Wilson. II know John SOM
ers like a book and every page of his
life was as pure as the prayers of his
two boys!"
Edgar, We can never agree on this
strange identity" said Alfred. mus
ingly. sour old friend here loves us,
as all seem to do, but we are not so
superior to many truly excellent men
in this community that he can call both
of us the best No. [ shall not take
the responsibility; and yet"
He paused to gaze steadily, lovingly
at Edgar. The anxiety which he read
in his twin brothers face was reflected
from his wv soul. Yes, they would
open the pulling letter or permit the
postmaster to open it III their presence:
for, were they not his bondsmen to the
| government?
Alfred spoke his decision. The eager
official broke the seal, read about half
the first note sheet, quickly refolded
the closely written pages, stepped to
the door of his private office, nervously
opened the same and said in a tremu-
lous voice:
Come in here, both of you, and sit
down! Do no permit us TO be inter-
rupted, Robert! l was right, gentle
men. It's for you'll Merciful heaven,
what a miracle! The niece, whom you
mourn as dead. Is alive. She has sent
this to her birthplace for some good
man to open, for she believes that
neither of her uncles is living. There,
read for yourself! My old eyes are be-
coming watery."
Alfred Somers reached mechanically
! for the letter, his hand shaking rs with
palsy. Edgar seemed more self-pos-
sessed. He leaned across the table at
which they were slJting, gently took
the .half-opened note sheets from his
emotion that would not be stiiled, read
what G%ertrude's daughter had SO hope
fully written.
This was her inquiry, her simple
prayer, her childlike confidence:
BELGRADE-IN-SERVIA, August %,
1SS3.-To whoever may be chosen to
open the letter which L have finally
concluded to send there, addressed to
that one man held highest in esteem,
all my heart is laid bare. L I'm the
child of Gertrude Somers Jermyn, the
granddaughter of John Somers, daugh-
ter OF Harold Jermyn, and niece OF AL
fred and Edgar Somers, who were twin
brothers. All of these | know to be
dead. For eight years | have been in
this remote country, Il waif among
strange people. The doctors have re-
stored me to n real life. / am as one
risen from the grave; miraculously
spared to enjoy my Inherited rights and
such social position as may await me in
America. To me is preserved memory,
the sweetest of comforters; and affec.
ton, which, speaking loudly, urges thi;
avowal. My story must be written:
my involuntary punishment from home
shall be ended.
Exactly how it happened ] am unable
to say. [ recollect II delightful oceau
voyage. There were gay, chatty, pleas,
ant companions with us on the steamer
and at most of the capitals of Europe
We left a seaport called Plymouth
going to London, Liverpool, Edinburgh
and many places which / had read of il
school books. Then L remember VT
visited Paris. Strasbdrg, Rome, Naples
Florence and Vienna. One day "a
Naples mother told me nat / was clever
years Did. That was several weeks be
fore we started for Vienna. Their
mother left her American friends anl
joined some German tourists. We wen
in n large boat on the Danube. Agrea
storm came. The good doctors, VIII,
have nursed me SO carefully and Trough
me back to health and strength, sa,