St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1891-03-15

| rose from the table and then walked
backward to the door, gazing steadily
the while at the portrait.
He half closed his eyes. as if the bet
ter to study the picture in that position.
| His father took in these antics with
bated breath and wondering eye.
Finally the young gentleman resumed
his seat and calmly slipped his coffee.
The colonel gave an impatient snort.
Governor" said Joe, as if struck
with a new idea, my grandmother
Hannah. must have been a regular
fright. The way she dressed was
simply indecent, and calculated to
bring on infiammatOry rheumatism
The imbecile who painted that smudge
ought to have been Strangled at his
birth. Yes, John, if you please,
another cup of coffee.
Young man," shouted the colonel
now thoroughly aroused, you've gone
too far at last. l have stood without a
murmur all your college scrapes, paid
your debts, though Lord knows they
were big enough; tried in every way to
replace the loss OF your-yes, | think L
may SAVIOUR sainted mother" Ghe
colonel exaggerated at times, especially
when eXcted), but when you throw
| grandmother, then, sir, Ive done with
you. Go and be Pullman conductor
if you want to, and be"
The colonel was interrupted at this
| opportune moment by violent fit Of
coughing.
Joe retired discreetly, but hastily, and
went up stairs to his room. Closing the
door behind him he lit the gas, and,
pulling chair up to the desk, plunged
his head into his hands.
Dear old governor" he unused, tits
! ~ cfir hI1t hold
never have done it If hadn't made him
mad"
He thrust his hand into his pocket,
and, after hurried examination of the
room to see if any one was watching, he
extracted therefrom piece of paper.
| This he spread carefully out before him
and read for the tenth time:
Dear. Dear Joe-Am writing this in an
| awful hurry. Going West tomorrow on the
vestibule limited; leaves Central depot II q.
m. Aunt Tabby and Wilkins going, too.
But will never marry him, Joe; never,
never. never. Can't you manage to be there:
AS ever, your own, MAUDE.
A timid knock on the door interrupted
the course OF Joe's meditations. Cram
ming the letter hurredly back in his
pocket, lie looked up into the smiling
face of his father.
Joe, my dear boy" said the colonel,
in rather shame-faced way, II beg
| your pardon"
He laid hand tenderly on Joe's curly
head.
Il was brute. and said things in my
anger that shouldn't have said.''
Joe rose quickly and grasped the hand
stretched out to him.
"NOnsense, dad, the blame is not
yours. Why, it was entirely my"
''No. Joe, the fault was mine, all
| mine.''
But, father
shut up,'' roared the colonel. II
| tell you it was my fault. There! / be-
| lieve am getting excited again. Here
| is your ORDER that will make it all right.
Good luck to you, my boy
A moment later the door opened
| again; it was the colonel.
Good night, joe"
Good night, father"
Joe bethought himself of the order.
| HeOpened it and read:
PACIFIC Il ATLANTIC RAILWAY,
PRIVATE OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT,
1880.
My Dear Ellis: My son wants TO make a
| run to Chicago as Pullman conductor Give
| him sleeper on the morning vestibule linn
| ited and oblige. PAUL A. HILARY.
| To Thomas j. Ellis, Pullman Offices.
"Chicago sleeper, sir?''
The smiling porter preceded the party
| into the car. Mr.. Wilkins went gal
| lantly to Aunt Tabitha's assistance, and
tucked her comfortably away in her seat.
Meanwhile the porter had managed sur
| reptitiously to whisper to Miss Harmon:
"MiStah Hilary am on de car, miss"
Maude looked quickly up at the por-
ter. He was smiling at an imaginary
| friend out OH the platform.
| Was the train never going to start?
| thought Maude. impatiently, as she lis
| tened TO the meaningless prattle of her
! Aunt Tabitha and the distracted mon
osyllables of Mr.. Wilkins.
"All aboard" shouts somebody.
Maude looks out of the window and sees
porty little man refulgent in blue
and brass buttons chatting with another
trainmau. The first is evidently the
| conductor, but who-can that young fell
| low with his hat cooked ostentatiousIy
! over his left eye-hOw silly of her. Of
| course it can't be-but yet
The young gentleman in question set
| ties her doubts just then rather forcibly.
| he turns around.
Heavensl he has red whiskers.
'Ail aboard" calls the conductor.
| The train begins to move. No signs of
! Joe. Maude sweeps the platform with
one last, deSpairing glance. Her eyes
unconsciously seek the tiery-whiskered
train man. As the car moves slowly by
| him, he looks straight at her and
executes a solemn but most prodigious
| wink.
Maude laughs aloud, which action
causes a reproving glance from the
| dove-like eyes of Aunt Tabitha. and
slight elevation of the brows on the
part of Mr.. Wilkins. Feeling that she
| has been betrayed into an incautiOus
rlro.
| the mysteries of Looking Backward"
| and is apparently lost to the outside
world for the space of few minutes,
! during which the train has passed
through the outskirts of the great city,
| and is now settling down to a steady
rate of speed. Not so interested is she,
| however, that she does not hear we'll
known step approaching. She gives no
sign of recognition, but bends her head
! still lower over her book.
"Berth tickets" says harsh voice to
Mr.. Wilkins.
Maude starts, then smiles.
The melancholic clergyman in the OPP
pOsite section notes this and wonders
what the book is that she reads SO in
tenUly.
Mr.. Wilkins fumbles nervously
through all his pockets in search of the
tickets. He feels the suspicious eye of
the conductor upon him.
Can he have lost them?
Take your feet off the seat" re-
marks the conductor. Mr.. Wilkins
glances up in amaZement.
us it against the rules?' he asks.
yes" says the conductor, imper-
turbably.
But never heard of that"
Probably not; new rules; passed
yesterday"
Mr.. Wilkins removes the offending
members from the seat in silence and
continues the search for the tickets. At
last he finds them in the bottom of one
of his capacious pockets, and hands
them TO the conductor.
"Wrong section," says that individual.