The Pioche weekly record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1877-1900, 1894-02-08

his letters, meal, messenger or a
carriage, he pressed an electric but
ton and his wants were satisfied
almost as swiftly as even petulant
wealth could expect. An exceedingly
swift lift bore him to and from his
rooms and in his rooms he had gathered
about him all that his eye desired
books in rich cases with felt hinges,
worries from all the world rugs,
lamps, cushions couches, engravings
and rings with engravings upon them,
miniatures of pretty women, scientific
toys and china from Persia. He had
friends and acquaintance as many as
he could befriend or know; and some
one said that more than one woman
had given him her whole love. There
fore, he could have lacked nothing,
whatever.
One day hot sickness touched him
with its finger, and he became no more
than n sick man alone among his
possessions, he sport of dreams and
devils and shadows sometimes q log
and sometimes u lunatic crying in
delirium.
At last, spent and broken, he woke
to see very quiet young woman in
biuCh lliONlllH uDOub hlo lOOii' Ilt
was too weak to speak; too weak to
cling to life any more. In his despair
he thought that it was not worth
clinging to. They moved his bed TO
the window that he might look down
and watch the people going to and
fro. But the change, instead of cheer
ing, cast him into deeper melancholy
1t was nearly hundred feet, sheer
drop, to those healthy people, and the
distance depressed him unutterably.
lie played with the visiting cards his
friends left HIM, and he was very, very
wretched.
One morning he turned his face
away from the sunlight and took no
interest in anything, which alarmed
the doctor. He said to himself: Bored,
ehP Yes. You're just the kind of
over-educated, over-refned man that
would drop his hold on life through
sheer boredom" He said to Sister
Ursula that he would send fresh pre-
scription by his boy and that she must
give it every twenty minutes without
fail Also, 1t might be well to talk to
the man little. HE needs cheering
up. There is nothing the matter with
him now; but he won't pick up"
There can be few points of sympa
thy between man born, bred, trained
and sold for and to the world and a
good woman made for the service of
other things. Sister Ursula's voice
was very sweet, but the matter of her
speech did not interest. The Invalid
lay still, looking out of the window
upon the street in its Sunday after
| n,nrtinacc Thn loatarse ho,
rang at the door, Sister Ursula
stepped out into the hall, not to dis
turb the sleeper, and took the medi-
cine from the boys hand Even as
she turned the wind blew to the
sprlng-lock door of the rooms with q
click.
Sister Ursula tried the door softly,
but rich men with many hundred
pounds worth of bric-a brac buy them
selves very well-made doors that
fasten with singularly cunning locks
Then the lift returned with the boy in
charge and, SO soon as his Sunday and
rather distracted attention was drawn
to the state of affairs, he suggested
that Sister Ursula should go down to
the basement and speak to the care
taker who, doubtless, had duplicate
key. TO the basement, therefore,
Sister Ursul. went with the medicine
bottle clasped to her breast, and there,
among mops and brooms and sinks
and heating pipes, and the termini OF
all the electric communications OF
that many-storied warren, she found,
not the caretaker, but his wife, read
ing paper, with her feet on n box OF
soap. The caretaker's wife was Irish
not only sympathetic but polite. Hei
husband had gone out, and, being q
prudent guardian of the interests con.
tided to him, had locked up all the
duplicate keys.
"An' the saints only know whir
Mike'l be back av Sunday" she
concluded checrfully, after history
of Mikes pcculiaritics. Hell be
afther havin' supper wild friends"
THE medicine!" said sister Ursula
looking at the inscription on the bot
tie, ut must begin at twenty min
utes past five. There are only ter
minutes now. There must-oh! there
must be wayw
Give him double dose next time
The docthor won't know the differ
II must get to the room" she in
sisted. ooh, surely, there Is way
any way"
There's wan way" said the care
.aker's wife, stung to proftabl,
thought by the others distress, Il
we wint into the cellar an out into
the area, we'll find the ground end.
av the fire eshcapes that take to al
the rooms, Go aisy. dear"
Sister Ursula had gone down tn,
basement steps through the cellar
into the area, and with clenchet
teeth was looking up the monstrou
sheer of red brick wall cut into long
. strips by perpendicular iron ladders
Under each window each ladder
opened out into very little balcony
The rest was straighter than ships
J mast.
, The caretaker's wife followed, pant
= ing; came out into the sunshine, and
shading her eyes, took stock of tn,
ground.
He'll be No 42 on the Fifth Thir
this ladder goes up to it. Bad lucl
to them, they've the eshcapes from
an back, spoilin' the look av a fin,
house: but it's all paid for in the rint
Glory be to God, the avenues empty
, all but. But it should ha' been tn,
back--it should ha' been the back!n
. Two children were playing in the
gutter. But for these the avenue wa
deserted, and the hush of Sabbath af
ternoon hung over it all. Sister Ur
sula put the medicine bottle carefully
into the pocket of her gown. Hel
face was as white as her colt.
} "'Tis not for me-" said the care
takers wife, shaking her head sadly
Pm not SOS TO be round, or I'd e
wild We. Those ladders do be runnn
wonderful straight up an down. I'll
scandalous to think-but in fire. an
runnin' wild their night clothes, they't