The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1892-02-14

NYE WALKING THE FLOOR.
maker. who will move the regulator at 81
per move.
Have regular time for winding the
watch and do not go over that time. Do
not wind the. watch during the sermon
at church if it is a Waterbury watch, for
you might lose the nub of the sermon.
Never drive fence posts or kill insects
with the watch. 1t Injuries it. Never ex-
pose the works while in state of intoxi-
cation.
Seth says you should have your watch
cleaned once a year. | am sorry if his
watches require cleaning once year.
1t is not good plan, he says.sto put the
watch under the pillow. Possibly it
should be put out of the window on
cothesline. IF worn in the vest" Seth
saws, you can hang up the garment at
night" So also you can hang up the
watch, too. l have done that.
Should your watch stop. do not shake
it violently or pry the wheels with a car
starter. but take it to matchmaker, who
will look into it and tell you to leave it
with him year or two.
A ton of gold is worth 1902, 100. u. A ton
of steel made up into hairsprings is worth
81, J67 600, SO you see that man who Will
invent a restorative that will grow hair
springs-but let US pass on;
some Sdu stories, 1uueeu, might be tOlu
of the ravages of the grip in New York if
We could know them all and tell them TO
the world.
One evening / had rooms-it was really
a room-one of those portable rooms
which is attached to a suite and used then
as a cloakroom, but let separately some
times to jayish travellers and furnished
with a flexible trundle bed-but | refer to
it as rooms because | do not care very
much how live if / can make the public
believe that loll in the lap of luxury till
it causes adverse criticism.
| could hear the conversation in the
next room. In fact, / could not avoid it.
| cannot wear cotton in my ears all the
time, as high as cotton is now, and so |
was obliged TO hear the pathetic words
that came to me over the transom and
through the walls.
There was a little, dry, hard cough and
a sigh of pain after IL; then a woman's
broken voice:
Her cough is tighter tonight, Charlie
1t is dryer and her temperature is greater,
dear. Oh, what shall we do2 What shall
we do?-poor darlingnn
Somehow | thought of my own home,
and wondered if the little folks there were
well tonight, so many cold, weary miles
away in the old North state.
Then the mans voice said in deep, rich
tones:
II think it is the crisis with her, dear"
Then the little cough once more and a
patient little moan that died away in a
sigh. 'If she can get through the night
We may hope for an improvement tomor-
row, Clara. See, she is going to sleep
now"
Then there was a long hush, but after
ward came the cough-that cough that
hurts a parents heart worse than it could
the child, it seems. Then little whimper
of pain and then the voice of the almost
sobbing woman:
What would we do without her.
Charlie? What would we do without herr
She is all we have. | could not go home
again without her and leave her here.
What would we do, Charlie? What
would we do?
began TO feel uncomfortable. l could
not bear to hear this sort of talk. | can
not stand such things. | smoked a large
brunette pipeful of the ablest tobacco
could get hold Of and walked the floor. 1t
was terrible. could not read. | could
not write. When the dry, quick cough.
and the sigh, and the woman's sob came
got SO L started and turned pale, and if it
had not been too late at night | would
have left the room altogether.
you must give her the medicine now.
II is II O'Clock, and she had it before at 10.
BE brave, dear heart. Have courage.
Others have passed through even deeper
sorrow, Clara" came the dcep. earnest,
comforting voice of the husband. Life
and death are not in our hands. We can
only do our best and be ready for the
worst
| could not endure this. ! am of too
sympathetic a nature. | rang the bell in
tending TO order my room changed, but
got ashamed of myself before the boy came
and told him to have me called at Z 30 in
the morning. and he went away with a
bright new shilling which l had once
owned.
she is awake now. Charlie, and she
knows me. Seei Yes. indeed she does.
She recognizes our voices, Charlie. But
she is weaker; oh, so much weaker. She
can hardly turn over or lift her head
any more. Oh, my poor, poor darling F!
What can ! do for you? What can 1 do?
Then could hear her mingled sobs and
kisses The husband paced the floor.
l could not bear this any more. !
arose and dressed. 1t was no sorrow
that / could relieve. ! might as well 20
away from it. ! folded and put away
the rich nightrobe in my bag and
dressed myself automatically. Then
went down stairs with my luggage, the
little hollow cough Still ringing N nay ears.
| said al the Office that l would pay NV
bill and go. | could not bear the grief
even of those whose faces ! had never
seen. I. might be foolish, but could not
help il.
..Do not 90. Mr.. Nye," the night clerk
said. I'VE Will give you 3. on the parlor
floor. II is much better room, with
steam heat in it. Here, 'FRONT.' Show Mr..
Nye to % and tell - that they viii have 20
leave IN the morning. You are the third
man they nave driven out with their wild