Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1892-04-09
TWO TRAGEDIES,
Az Told by the Revolver and the Ring in the |
PawnbrOker's Show Case |

A. Told by the Revolver and the Ring in the
PawnbrOker's Show Case.
From the Chicago Times.
"Heighon' yawned the Revolver in the show
case of the pawnbroker, as the sun came CLINT
ing through the dingy panes; "here's another
day to be lived through. How monotonous
this is after that adventurous youth Of mine"
II suppose you think you're the only one
here that gets tired Of life" put in the Ring.
but l assure you / get exceedingly weary of
it myself. After such romance! Oh, it is un.
speakabler'
"Yes, when think back to that last great
tragedy-the one that landed me in this DESC
late PRISON. feel q sort of bitter-sweet ioy.
Have ever told you the story?'
'.Never."
SWELL it is really touching. this story. There
was man, my master, and the girl who had
stolen his heart. She regretted very much that
he should have thought her capable of such
theft and declined to give him any equivalent
In fact she refused him. l shall never forget
that day. My master came in fercelv and
flung himself into chair. So he muttered.
this Is the end of the chapter! No, not vet the
end do not care to read LIES litany any
further. Without her 1t is all dreary useless
ness / will go out of it. He took me ND and
handled me tenderly. Perhaps he went on.
when she learns how have gone away she will
realize how much loved her. Then he put
me in his pocket and went out into a desoiate
part of the town. And then-oh, shudder in
thinking of it."
poor fellow" sighed the Ring; "you killed
him, of course. Terrible! A smoke and powder
SCARED face with red cash in the temple and
blood flowing from it-a horrible sight No
wonder you shudder"
head, and while 1 rested against it for a few
moments, ! read his thoughts that went like
this: H m. that steefs beastly cold Well
what does it matter? I'll be cold soon myself.
That thing not so easy after all. Wonder if
by jove, ii live just to spite her. I'll forget
her and think Of the others And then he
slipped me into his pocket, walked straight to
this pawnshop. and left me here. have never
seen him since. But what indignity to heap
upon me! Is that not tragedy9'
"Yes," said the Ring, lit in. 1t makes me-
think Of my story, which have never-have II
no, never told you. There WAS also a man
and . maid. belonged to the lateral least
she wore me for mis- sake in token of engage
ment. She was fair and aristOcratic He was
an artist therefore poor. One day she met n
silver king from the west. He had wealth
galore, and he laid it at my mistress feet
throwing in his heart as side dish. She hum
med the Look at This and Look at That from
the Chimes of Normandy and after the pic
lures of life in splc and span brown-stone
house and contrasted awhile with the dream Of
love in garnet with an impecunious artist she
brushed the cobwebs of sentiment from her
brain and decided for the silver king. pa
thetic letter was written; was wrapped up
carefully aud returned to her discarded fance.
And when he opened the box and saw me--ah,
shall 1 ever forget that face? Why does it
haunt me always-and the things that Followed
why can not forgetr'
Ihe Revolver glistened sympa.hetically and
dropped q rusty tear. "Ah, / know; he was
brave, this artist; he went out and killed him
self and mt the ring unon hia heart Az he died