The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-05-24

TO FAsTEN THEM 10 THE LADY's BODICE.
Il was q warm June morning, and
birds caroled in the tall elms along
Grove street. Honseiaaids were opening
parlor shutters or sweeping off verandas
with snatch of song on the lips, and that
peculiar hirt Of the broom that betokens
fine weather and light heart. The
mi1kman's wild cry was expiring at one
end of the long street just as the news
boys shrill yell broke the silence at the
other. Shadows lay cool on the brown
road, and the town gardens exhaled their
sweetest doors.
1t was just at this moment that Mrs.
Northup's ledger turned into Grove
street on her way to the postofiice. Mrs.
Northup's house was not on Grove street.
There were no such humble little houses,
with garden the size of pockethand-
kerchief and o bit of drying lawn at the
back, on that fashionable thoroughfare.
All the jewellers on Grove street were
carriage people, with ample incomes and
everything handsome about them. Mrs.
N0rfhup was only the wife Of conduct
or on the Applicable line. with salary
Of less than thousand year. Her
house stood in Ford's alley, and the bit
of garden above mentioned abutted on
the railway, so that the house was shaken
by passing trains many times day.
The alley was filed with small mechan
les houses and stables, and was not a
conspfcuousfy clean little street, and the
nsa1ness Of the main line, where day and
night the trains whizzed past, and steam
whistles emitted unearthly ahrielzs,
made it not an ideal country residence.
But Mrs. Northup's house was shin
ing oasis amid the litter and disorder of
Ford's alley. Ncrthup was what the
neighbors called snug man, fond Of
delving in his garden during his spare
time, and with an inherent streak Of
neatness, much furthered by Mrs North
ups good management. As Northup was
away much of the time and there was
only one child, Margery, quiet little
maid of FIVE, Mrs. Northup let two of
her rooms to dodgers. It was the new
lodger who had the west corner room
Mrs. Northup gazed after now, as she
walked away toward the turning Of
Grove street. A reserved, quiet young
girl, Mrs. Northup could make nothing
of her. and tho expression on the good
woman's face was puzzled and dissatis-
fed.
Miss March seemed always to be writ
ing, and the landlady when she looked
into her room saw her dodgers dark head
bent over table covered with papers
between Der and the light But Mrs.
Northup had conhded that morning to
John, while in the act of shaving, that
the new lodger, though she kept so close
and said nothing about her folks and
never made free with anybody, was a
perfect lady. Though she had been in
the house month, John Northup had
only caught sight of the young lady two
or three times as she passed in and out of
the little garden gate, but his wife had
impaired to him all her ideas concerning
the new lodger, until he felt mysteri-
Gus respect for this girl--as if her pres
ence in his household had raised the
standing of his family in Littlefield
"Pays her rent right on the nail, said
his wife, as she served his breakfast, 'sand
has got a brother at college named Will
ard. There are only two of them in
the world, and she expects Willard to do
great things. I rnistrust she is helping pay
Wizards way by her writing, and don't
let him know what struggle she has to
live and keep soul and body together,
poor thing. Do you know, John, wake
up In the night and think about that girl
sometimes. I've noticed marks of crying
round her eyes, and it's been borne in
on rne she is very poor"
you always WAS soft hearted, Nelly"
the laconic John responded, as he took
his hat to go to the station
On this fine June morning Mrs. North
up watched Miss March as she went
down the alley--a tail, slender young
girl, with abundant brown hair and
large gray eyes.
'tShe's got style, " thought Mrs. North
mp, s'if her dresses are poor, sleasy stuff,
all black and without frill or plat. ]
never could get my dresses 80 set like
hers anyway whatever. But it's her fig
ger, guess. Yes, she has got beauti-
full fgger, and am dumpy, and always
was. And the beco1ningness Of that
black hat Of has, without ever plume
or "a .srtzfriai, is something wonderful.
I do hopesshen get letter today with
good .news. Sozfatimes j think can tell
By tho Way abe steps whether the right
kind Of letter has come"
Miss March went slowly up Grove
street toward the center Of the town
breathing the early morning freshness.
She, too, was thinking of the letter or no
letter that lay at the end of her walk to
the postoffice with kind. of shivery
dread, half hoping it would not be there,
that the matter might still hang in
doubt, and the fatal day be put off to
give her courage to go ON with the work
She walked very slowly up the street,
lingering like i truant schoolboy who
1reads the fernling he is sure to get at
sast. r only the letter should moi be-
;here tlae' chances would SEEM DfightAr.'
5he bad dreamed tho night before Of 4
aAip sell!nG before the wind. A bad