Lawrence democrat. (Lawrenceburg, Tenn.) 1884-1925, 1894-05-11

friends it was such precious poor
| one.
They're full up here, miss" says l,
going back to the cab I'd told her to
sit still till saw what sort of place
1t was. They say they can't possibly
take you in; but if you don't mind
crossing the water ] think / know
decent body that would put you up for a
night or two"
You're very good" says she; but
must owe you lot of money already,
and I've only few shillings"-
Never mind that, miss" l inter
rupted "My fare can wait: and the
party have in my mind won't over.
charge youth fact, it's my mother"
Your motherl" she cried
Eyes, miss" said i. IF you'll be
good enough to trust me that far,
think it's the best thing we can do"
"Of course trust you," says she with
little smile. You've been so kind
to me already. But Pm afraid I'll be
imposing on your good nature"
mot bit of it." said 1; and to avoid
more words, clambered up and drove
off down the Chelsea embankment near
Vauxhall bridge to Roscoe's, to leave
the cab The yardmen stared when
handed the young woman out and Shout
dered her box.
blessed If B i'll Taylor amt been and
got marriedw l heard one of them say
and "Ill be back for my second horse
about nine" l called out, to prevent
the report from spreading among my
mates. l thought even yardman
would have sense enough to know a
chap wouldn't want second horse on
his wedding day,
We lived close to the yard and my
mother stared harder than the men
had done when l came in with the box
That's queer thing to be left in a
cab, Bill" says she.
"Tain't been left, mother" said l;
and then explained things to her as
quickly as | could, for the girl was
waiting on the landing-we had two
rooms in block of model dwellings,
"You amt angry, mother?" l asked,
for she didn't speak when I'd finished
only looked at me with queer light
in her eyes,
Angry! No." says she. only proud
of my son. Come in, you poor dear
come in. You must excuse Bill for
leaving you out there. He never did
have grain of sense"
Then they threw their arms about
each other and had good cry while
scratched my head and wondered at
the contradictoriness OF women. When
they'd done, mother hustled about and
got tea making the girl help, just tc
set her at ease
She told us her name was Jessie Nor
ris, and that she'd been an orphan,
earning her own living ever since she
was fourteen-I set her down as two.
and-twenty that night, but knocked of
a couple of years when saw her after
she'd had a good rest-and lot more
about herself | needn't repeat. l left
her as cheerful as cricket, chatting
away to my mother as if she'd known
[ her for years. Mother must have
taken pretty quickly to her, too; for,
after | brought that second horse back
about three in the morning, she put her
head out of their room just to whisper
to me: "Jessie's fast asleep. l thought
you'd like to know. God bless you, my
boy, for bringing her to mel''
/ Well, don't think there's much more
| to be said. Jessie staid ON with us fol-
week or SO, and fairly earned hel
keep by helping mother give the room;
thorough cleaning; and then mother
/ found her place with family a
Brixton. We didn't lose sight of her
When I'd time I'd look her up; and wher
she'd her evening out she'd come dow
r to see mother, who wasn't as active as
I'd have liked her to be. OF course
fell in love with her. No one seeing
, her homely ways with the old lady
. could help it; but | didn't speak fo
, nearly year, partly because didn'
think she'd have me, and partly be
; cause | couldn't see my way to provid
ing comfortable home for the two o.
them
, After my Uncle Thomas died, though
we were much better off He left IN,
. a nice little legacy; and 1 set up a han
, som and couple of horses of my own
; that thoroughbred being one of them
Then I'd felt I'd got decent position
and chance of putting by something
| for rainy day; SO, one Sunday even
ing, when l was seeing her home t,
Brixton, l said: Jessie, poor mother
getting feeble, don't you think?"
Eyes, Bill, do" says Jessie, looln,
down and blushing as if she guesse,
I what had in mind
Shed be better for daughter
, care, wouldn't she?" | asked, hopin,
the hint might be enough.
'Of course she would, It's pity yol
= haven't a sister," says she, so sharl
' that was sure she didn't care for me
+ and said no more that night. When
q got home / must have looked as glun
II as felt for mother would have i
there was something the matter, an
after bit she wormed the whole stor,
out of me.
e ''Oh, you donkeyl' says she. 9TH
= young men in my day didn't ask girl
!. to marry them for their mothers salles
Tell her straight out you love her,
k ever she gives you the chance again
d which is more than you deserve
d took mothers advice, and thing
e came right the next time; but wha
e was said l can't exactly remember, an
d wouldn't put it down if l could. D.
e the by, that policeman he never mad
any inquiries about 1O,414; but al te
4 we'd been married about year cam
v across him again.
"Hullo, sergeant says |, pulling ur
al think | owe Won "a shilling "