The Jersey City news. (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1889-1906, 1894-12-26
A STOLEN UMBRELLA.

When Henry Carroll arrived at his Office
on the seventh floor, he was much per
turbed. He tugged violently at his new
mustache and grumbled audibly as he
marched up and down his room.
The gold letters on the door told the
passers that tho occupant of this particu'
lar room was Henry Carroll, attorney and
counselor Mt law, and that he was a no
tary public.
Carroll had not been a lawyer long, fol-
it was only three months ago that, on his
twenty fifth birthday, he had graduated
from the law school with high honors.
| Almost Immediately he engaged the office
room, hung out his single and took his
| seat to wait for clients.
For about a month he had been happy
in his office, for, though clients had not
broken down his door in their efforts to
obtain his services-fn fact, they hadn't
| even. turned tho knob--the satisfaction of
seeing his name in gold letters OF an office
door was paramount to any such compar-
atively petty considerations as clients.
His trouble began when one bright
morning as he raised the window which
opened on the court be saw a young wom-
an engaged in a similar operation on the
other side Of the court.
She stood by the open window just long
enough to allow him to see that she was
very pretty, and then she turned away,
leaving Carroll to fall in a chair and won
der who she was and how he could make
her acquaintance. The first view had set
tied it with Henry that he must meet her
somehow.
He went to his home that evening and
told Dick Lyle, his roommate, that he had
seen the prettiest girl on earth, and that
life to him would be a dull and aching
void until lie knew more of the young
woman of the seventh floor opposite.
Lyle listened to the story of his friend
with undisguised contempt, and when he
| got through assured Carroll that he knew
the young woman in question quite we'll.
Her name was O'Shaughnessey and her
mother was a washerwoman in Brooklyn.
Henry rose up in his wrath at this point
and called Lyle an idiot and said that he
was undoubtedly mistaken, n the lat
ter, who knew all along that he was mis-
taken, said that he woEed make inquiries
on the morrow and let him know the re-
suit of them. Z
At noon the next day Lyle called at
CarrolIs Office and found him looking abb
stractedly at the window across the court.
ssHaye you seen the fair enchantress?"
asked Lyle.
Carroll shook his head and heaved a
sigh that would have caused the melan-
choly jacques to turn green with envy.
"Then listen to me, and l will tell you
the result Of my Investigations. The
maiden is a typewriter lady-you'd object
if | said girl-and she works for the large
real estate agents, Ballard & Bullion, and
she lives in Brooklyn with her mother
| and q sister. Her name is Nellie Moore.
l could not learn her exact salary, but l
Judge it is about $40 a week. Is that
| enough for you, my dear friend?" he con-
Guided.
Splendid" said Carroll. "But how
did you find all this out in SO short a
timer"
| am q born detective, and so I pumped the
Office boy. All you got to do is to give an
office boy a quarter, and he will tell you
| anything, whether he knows it or not"
Henry went home that evening feeling
very light hearted. He knew who the girl
was, and he thought it would be an easy
matter to get an introduction. He soon
found his mistake, though, for there he
| stood two months after the events related,
and the reason Of the violent tugs at his
mustache was tho same that had caused
him such despair two months back.
He had in this time tried all manner of
schemes for meeting her, but without sue
| cess. He did not know her employers,
and thoy would not have introduced him
to their typewriter if he had.
One day he went in to see her with a
| big batch of manuscript and begged her
to make typewriter copies of it from his
| dictation. She, without locking at him,
replied that she did not do any outside
work, and he had returned to his office
| and thrown the labor of three days into
the w~astebasket, and he made life miser-
able for his Office boy.
He stopped in his walk up and down
the office and looked out at the rain which
was falling in the court. He had been
watching and praying for rain for a long
time, as he had a deep laid plot for which
the aid of the heavens was needed.
It was his intention to camp on her
trail on rainy days until he caught her
without an UMBRELLA, and then he would
insist upon her taking his, and the ao-
! Qud1AbaACO NohId 10 O4OoSho e1
easily" he had told Lyle, las falling off
a log"
This plan, however, failed because the
young woman did not do her share to-
ward 1t. She neglected to forget to bring
her umbrella, and SO Mr.. Carroll's plan
came to naught.
He took a seat where he could watch the
windows of Ballard & Bullion and tried
at the same time to read over the papers
in his first clients case.
The papers told all about how John
Doe, party of the first part, had agreed for
81 and other considerations to do certain
| specified things and then hadn't done
them. AT any other time this would have
been most interesting reading for Henry,
| especially SO as 1t was his first case. But
when a man has a first case of law and a
first case of love on at the same time the
law business Is very likely to be neglected.
Carroll fred the papers at the office boy
Just as his friend, Richard Lyle, opened
the door. Lyle picked the papers up and
glanced at the ma by the window and
then at the papers
tsWhat's this?" he began. "That fellow
John Doe in trouble again? WE'LL that's
awful. There ought to be some law to
prevent the existence Of John Doe and
Richard Roe. They're always in court on
some charge or another. It's too bad"
And then Mr.. Lyle threw himself into
aschair and looked as though he was much
offended at the m-isdeIneanors OF the Doe