The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1893-04-22

for five minutes, thinking. Then she
put on her hat, went out on the street
and walked straight to one of the
stores, where she purchased an entire
suit of clothing, from hat to gloves.
II want something handsome" she
said to the saleswoman; something
that fits me and is becoming"
This done, she went back to her
room, dressed herself in the new things
and hen deliberately placed one after
another of her possessions upon the
CRATE fire. Within an hour she had not
one solitary thing that she had ever
owned before.
She left the house without a word of
farewell, and when she reached the
sidewalk she stood for a moment won
dering where she would go. She had
not a friend in the great city. All the
people she knew were merely business
acquaintance. She had only the
clothes she wore and-a million dol
laas.
1t is a matter of wonder, even to
those who realize it best, what a mira
Gle may be wrought with money. In
three months from the day that Sarah
stood in the street with nothing save
her inheritance she was owner and
mistress of one of the best-appointed
houses in New York. There was no
lack now of fine dresses and laces and
jewels; no lack of people who called,
leaving cards and invitations, and no
lack of men who were ready to pay
court and compliments to her.
These three months had been a rev
citation to Sarah. 1t was her first ex-
%perience with the social world. But
her long business training had given
her keen insight into things and had
taught her to form quick and nearly
always correct opinions of people.
For the first month she was inter-
ested. The second she was bored, and
the third she was thoroughly unhappy
| and dissatisfied. The functions of So
ciety she found wearisome. The po-
lite lies that people continually told
each other disguised her. The light
ness with which society regarded what
she considered crimes shocked her. She
found herself longing for something
that was genuine and good, and won
dering whether anybody vas really
honest
This state of things became intol-
cradle to the plain, practical business
woman. She thought it all over one
night, as she sat alone in her luxurious
chant Der. It was different, vastly diff
ferent, from the room where she did
her thinking three months before.
Was this what she had missed Their
and longed for-to sit alone in the
midst of all this splendor and wonder
what she should do with herself; to
realize that not n of all the new
friends who swarmed about her and
readily accepted her hospitality really
cared a button for her? Could she
spend all the years of her life this
way? No. She could not and she
would not.
Sarah Jenkins arrived at conclusions
quickly. Early the next morning she
sent for her lawyer.
II want you to sell this house for
me-" she said.
why" replied the lawyer, "you
have only just bought it"
mo matter, I want to sell it"
Are you going away?
mo. I am going to buy another
house that will suit me better"
This isn't handsome enough fol
her" thought the lawyer. "'Put a beg
gar on horse back" Aloud he said
Every well. Miss Jenkins, I'll attend
to it."
Sarah's next move was to look TO,
havoc C1,4 fo,-J -
pretentious dwelling in a quiet side
street She had it put in perfect
order, and furnished prettily and neat
~, but without a touch of gorgeous
ness anywhere. Meanwhile the hand
some uptown house with all its fur
nishings had been sold, and one day
Sarah walked into the Office where sht
had spent so many years. 1t was hel
Office now, and her business. She sait
to the young man who had taken he
place:
You will take charge of the ship
ping at the same salary you have now
l will occupy this place hereafter, an
she took off her hat, seated herself Oh
the high stool, and began picking VI
the threads of the old life just wher,
she had dropped them.
This is the first happy day l hav,
known for three months" she said =
George Howe, the old bookkeeper, a
she went out that night. He was
grave, staid man of fifty, who had beel
with the house for nearly thirty years
No n knew much about him. II
said, one Christmas, when asked abou
his gifts, that there was no to Civ
| him anything.
why" asked the inquirer, haven
5 you any folks?" 49,,
II have no one in the world but my