The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-01-11
SELECTED STORY.
John Jones.

Grasped travelling valise that ne had with
him. He was rather tall, slenderly built
and distinguished looking, with blond
mustache. As he alighted ut the corner
he appeared somewhat puzzled.
Let me see--was this my streeti" he
asked himself refectively, looking around
for sign on lamppost. by Jovei I've
qnite forgotten what street 1t was that
was going to get off at ] intended-no,
that wasn't It, What was l going to do,
anyway positively think that am get.
thug more absentmnded every day. Pshaw,
this is too absurd. ] say, boy, what street
Is thisS"
A boy Of twelve swinging n schoolbook
on the end Of Il leather strap paused to "size
ND" the stranger and answered briefly;
"Tremont street"
Then he passed on, leaving the man with
the blond mustache apparently more puz-
Eled than ever
"Well, this beats the Dutchp' he ex-
claimed. "This neighborhood is strange
TO me. | don't understand 1t at all. Isup.
pose there is nothing to do but to turn
around and go back. Let me see, where
was lastp Upon my word can't remem-
Der Now this is getting to be perfectly
ridiculousl When started out this morn.
ing | went first--where did goS That's
another conundruml by graciousl don't
even recollect where had my breakfast.
| feel altogether queer-just as if had
walked up suddenly in strange city, And
now think Of it, what town is thisP 1t
doesn't look "A bit familiar The fact is
am clean lostS-strayed altogether out of
reckoning. II would be rather amusing,
being unique sort of situation, only that
the sensation is unpleasantly like dream
ing by daylight am gratified to observe
that am appropriately attired, inasmuch
as in actual dreams have more than once
imagined myself walking along crowded
thoroughfares with little or nothing on.
Here comes a car that will take me back in
the direction | came from. I'll board it,"
"Conductorl" said he, when he had
jumped upon the rear platform, 81 want
to 90 to the nearest hotel.
"Get off at the third corner, take the first
right and the first left and you'll strike the
Adams House" replied the official con
cisely, punching the fare.
"Never heard of,the Adams House" said
the stranger, to himself this time. $50
that doesn't enlghten me as to my where
abouts However, the only thing possible
is to go ahead This is certainly most
astounding predicament."
ally reached the hotel in question and
dropped his travelling bag on the counter
by the desk.
"Will you kindly let me see the directory
of this city," he said, adding, "of this city,
mind you, not any other"
The urbane clerk raised his eyebrows
slightly, as if surprised at the emphasis
put upon so commonplace request, anG
handed over the bulky volume. He fur
ther remarked with some curiosity that
the visitor did not open the book, but mere
ly looked hard at the lettering on the back.
surrenderng it theIeupon.
$50 this is Boston' remarked the
stranger half aloud.
"This is Boston, sir" echoed the clerk
politely II Judge that you have never
visited our city before"
NO, never have"
"Wii you register?'
49, Certainly with pleasure" responded
the stranger, accepting the proffered pen.
But as he was about to write his name he
hesitated, paused, bit the pen handle as if
embarrassed, and finally, with the air Of
person taking "A sudden resolve, wrote
awkwardly across the page John Jones,
leaving the space for residence blank. The
clerk quickly assigned him room a col
ored "boy" about sixty years OF age brought
along the travelling bag, and presently he
found himself alone in "A co2y little apart
ment looking out upon crowded street.
He sank into chair buried his face in his
hands and remained in that attitude for
several minutes. Finally he rose to his
feet and paced back and forth.
"By the great horn SPOON" he exclaimed,
II have heard of things like this, but it
never occurred to me to imagine that
soud be the victim of such a cOntretemps.
! nearly gave myself away to the clerk
down stairs. Think of entirely forgetting
ones own name But that is nothing. ANY
fellow ON get along without name, but
l seem to have lost my identity entirely.
can't remember who | am. Why, this is
simply maddeningl If my situation were
discovered might-very likely would-be
locked up in a lunatic asylum. must
keep it secret at all hazards. All! have
an idea! This is merely question of sub
jective Identification. Dead people are
usually identified by articles in their peck
cts or initials ca their clothing. Queer
that shouldn't aave thought of that he
fore. I'll try the valise first; there must
be something in that to give n clue"
With feverish haste he pressed the spring
of the travelling bag and opened it, empty
ing out the contents on the bed. There
were two clean shirts, pair Of clean stock
mgs, four clean collars, four pairs of clean
cuffs, brush and comb, a naibrush, a
toothbrush, piece of soap, a nightshirt
and nothing more. Not one of these ar
tcles bore any mark save for laundry
numbers on the linen.
THAT'S unlucky," said the young man.
but of course ought to have tried my
pockets first. Here's wallet. Thank
heaven, it's fun of blls-400-500-
It's bad enough to be without an identity
but to be dead broke simultaneously would
DO awful. Nevertheless | would give
overy cent OF the money for one small bust
ness or private memorandum that would
Cell me my name and residence. | can't
And so much as a scrap of paper-not
an envelope of an old letter. It's positively
astonishing. Possibly there are some marks
on the clothes am wearing. Here's a tag
inside the coat collar-'Smith e. Smith
merchant tailors.' That's something
though it is unfortunate that the town OF
city wherein Messrs. Smith q Smith hanl
out their sign is not mentioned"
After spending half an hour more in
minute examination Of all his belongings
going through his pockets at least fit!
times, he dressed himself carefully anC
al tgir