Passaic City record., 1894-03-24

"Any inscription, sir ?" questioned
Jones, assuming SO preternaturally
knowing an aspect that | could cheer
fully have pitched him in among the
plated in the big glass show case
behind him.
"Helen, said I. brusquely, 1884. !"
"H'Emma, sir % Jones put his
hand back of his ear.
''Helenl" I bawled out, painfully
conscious that the eyes of three pretty
girls, who were looking at turquois
lockets at a counter beyond, were upon
me-
every pretty name," simpered
Jones, as he wrote down the order.
"Any particular style, sir, -
.sSimple and solid," said I; 'that's
ALL
eyes, sir. 1t shall be attended to at
once" said Jones. ''Shall send it
to your residence, or"
s'I'll call for it tomorrow, said I.
ssPardon me, Mr.. Belton," cried
old Mr.. Glitterman, who had heard
portion of our colloquy, "but if it
wouldn't be taking liberty to inquire
whether you intend to keep house or
board"
"What?" calculated I.
''To keep house or board?" reiter-
ated Mr.. Glitterman. because in
the former case we should esteem it
favor to supply the silver and table,
ware
muttered some not particularly
complimentary answer and went out
of the store, closing the door behind
me with some emphasis.
.'Going to be married, eh, old
chap?" said Sniffins, familiarly thrust
ing his elbow into my side, as I strolled
into Delmonico's for my lunch that
day.
"No!" said I, taking up the carte.
"Oh, come, don't deny the soft i'm
peachment, said Snifins with
wink.
"What has put such an idea as that
into your head?" demanded I, some
what Indignantly.
"Name of Helen" said Snifins,
with an idiotic giggle. waiter,
pate de foie gras here! Lets drink
her health, Bolton, when"
At this stage I pretended to see
someone who I knew at an opposite
table, and bolted across the room.
Old Mr.. Jessup was trotting up
Broadway as I came out, with brown
silk umbrella under his arm.
"Eh?" said Mr.. Jessup, turning
upon me the moony glare of two spec
tacled eyes.
s'What's this I hear about you, my
dear young friend? Accept my con-
gratulationsi Matrimony is always a
blessed estate, and"
ooh, yes, I don't doubt it, sir, I
hurriedly interrupted, "but-a-
there's some mistake about it,
"Miss- What did you say" said
old Mr.. Jessup, beamingly. "Call
around this evening and tell us all
about it, there's good fellow. l
haven't time to listen just now!"
I could have torn my hair with rage.
Mr.. Jessup was Pauline Brookess
uncle and guardian, and I knew that
my cake in that direction would be all
dough, if once the fatal story of the
wedding-ring got to Pauline's ears.
I hurried up Broadway mentally
gnashing my teeth, and in my i'm
petuous haste, had nearly stumbled
over Pauline herself, just coming out
of florists, with tiny boutonniere
of English violets in her hand.
''Pauline!" cried I, rapturously.
But Pauline drew back, the least little
distance in the world, thereby put
ting an invisible barrier between us,
that froze me like an icicle.
.Dear me, Mr.. Bolton, is it you?"
said Pauline. 81 congratulate you, l
am sure p
'Upon what?" demanded, grow
ing desperate.
"Upon your approaching mar
riage' said Pauline, with smile like
auroral lights lowering over a snow
bank.
''But I'm not going to be married, :"
protested |.
ssOb ovo,rSa mo pravt Gontloman