The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-11-18
THREE BACHELORS COURT,
TALES OF TEN TRAVELLERS SERIES
BY EDGAR L. WAKEMAN.


In that pleasant quarter Of London ly-
fng between Picadilly and the Strand is a
narrow and cosy crOss-street which in the
mans and surveys bears the name Of
one of the royal houses of England.
Through the circumstance of three
staid bachelors, none of whom was ac-
quainted with either of the others, re-
siding at three separate and adjoining
numbers the other residents and the
tradesmen and market-boy frequenters
OF the quiet spot gradually came to call
the neat little street Three Bachelors
Court
This interesting appelaton chung to
the snug thoroughfare so long as three
precise and prim bachelors came down to
the street each morning, accompanied by
three precise and prim little old ladies,
who babe their respective bachelor COM
uanious each a stately good morning as
they passed to their places Of labor in
the city.
There was always an audience at the
opposite and side windows to witness
these curious morning partings.
They We're so set and formal they each
seemed to possess the manner of chal-
lenge to the others and to the neigh
horhood. that the street would not have
been itself at all had not the accustomed
scene occurred each morning, precisely
as on the preceding day, drawing from
onlookers their habitual quizzical, won
6ering and almost sympathetic smiles.
The door of No. z always opened first.
The bachelor of this house was
sprfghtly, bright little fellow, and always
held clasped firmly under his arm pom
derous learthern- bound book He would
descend exactly three steps, turn quickly.
False his hat in a cOurtly manner to the
little bland old lady in the door, who
would murmur: NOW, don't overwork
ALBERT" whereupon the two would cast
-, af Nos and n if TO
N"This would be very comfortable
street, indeed, We're they not in it"'
Then the gentleman would turn toward
Picadilly, and the little old lady would
come down to the street stand in full
view for moment, as if to protest that
she was not the same little old lady
who belonged at No. or No. IL, when she
would pass into her abode apparently
we'll satisfied with the understanding of
her own views and feelings having been
thus conveyed to those who were in wait
ing for this bit of pantominic self-asser-
ton.
Almost Immediately the door of No.
would hesitantly open. A large silk hat
slways at first slowly protruded. This
was followed by an olden boyish face
set off with gold-bowed glasses, strag-
Cling hair and shoulders slightly bent
: II the occupant of No. Z had not yet
were instantly withdrawn. If the coast
was clear, a bland and kindly face came
smilingly down the steps. Head and
face at once described an inquiring arc
as if to search for weather portents;
while pleasant voice would call from
the doorway:
I'D see you off, dear, but for Seven and
4Ieven"
"Oh, bother Seven and Eleven" always
came chirpingly and affectiOnately back
from the street Everybody knows they
are not us. Home early. Good-bye"
Then the little old woman from No. 9
would go through the morning scene of
showing herself for a bit.
She would even come out as far as the
curbing. She would look pleasantly up
and down the court; pick up any stray
leaves and litter from the steps and hllip
them into the roadway; give the door
knocker an extra touch with her apron;
glance uneasily and almost distainfully at
Nos. and IL; and finally, as if salts
fled that all observers were aware what
house she lived in, retire with a peace
full and contented air behind her own
door,
The occupnt Of No. Il was usually last
to leave for the city. He had d more
brusque and assertive way of disposng of
what had become an irksome daily task.
He most frequently appeared back
first, as If i'm the act of closing "A series of
formal bownEs to the old lady who pre-
sided over his household.
He made quicker work, too, of get
ting around the corner, stand way;
though he never went out from the court
without abruptly turning with a pleas
ant parting gesture to the dear little old
lady who always leaned far out upon the
steps of No. II to smile and gesture
hack her loving parting; for this bach
elor was myself; and this was my own and
my good aunts way of letting Three
Bachelors Court understand that we We're
neither of the other couples who lived
70 embarrassingly near.
"Something'n come of it," Aunt Prue
used to say in the safe way which elderly
women have of uttering prophecy.
1 tied to show her that nothing in the
world was more unlikely.
But there We're never two more mys-
ferrous couqles in London!
Seven and nne?"
''Seven and nine
No 1 would reply, with as merry a
smile as I could muster 10 vanqush her
torebodings, unless it be at Nine and
Eleven"
This would always quiet her tempo
rarily; but, dear soul that she was! it
never left her wholly free from anxiety.
No. 13 was vacant. Aunt Prue had often
suggested that we lease il. in order to en-
phasize our individuality. When
looked up the agent found him to be the
same VINO had charge OF our house. But
No. l3 could not be had It's owner was
also the owner Of Nos. z. and II. and
might at any time wish the place for his
own use.
He is q traveller" the agent said chop-
PLY, and can afford 10 let the house
stand idle. When he leaves the road.
he wishes snug quarters for himself in the
city
That was all the information TO be got.
III added to the complications Of the sit
uatiOn. What if this traveller was an
other bachelor. and should bring along
another little old lady TO take charge of
his householdr Why. the entire court
would break from smiles into outlaws!
! told Aunt Prue that Immediately af-
ser my summer vacation. which was now
ne hand, was done, we would look about
t for other quarters, perhaps out Chelsea
way ana this brought the sunshine into
her face until one morning when she
heckoned me TO the front window.
See there' She cried veNedly. pointing
TO the Occupants of No. T.
The iaPper little bachelor OF that num-
Der laden with the parapernalia Of ang-
ling was just setting out for the railway
station I'm hanson.