The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1894-11-09

pursuit. turned deliberately, look
ed at 1t and said:
"You've made mistake-that Is
not my umbrella"
"Must be. sah--yo' brought hit In
heah-yo' wouldn't be carryin' no
other gents umbrella, sah."
He held tho thing up in the glare Of
the lights.
~ had no umbrella" said sternly.
"Yous fogot, sab. Only umbrella
in the rack--notlced 1t partic'lar when
you come in" The BARRIERS had all
stopped work, and half-lathered Gus
toners were rising up In their chairs.
| weakened
81 believe it Is m,ne," I said, as
took 1t and again fled, while the boy
pocketed his tip and observed: "Dis
yere amt de shop where we's ever
mistaken bout no umbrellas"
But l determined to retain my self
composure at any cost of mental
strain | boarded an uptown Broad
way car with another bold resolve in
mind. incidentally / decided to try
the car, though l had small hopes of
it. At Th!rty-siXth street | rose to
get off. leaving the umbrella behind,'
but | met the rcproachful eye OF the
conductor and went back and picked
it up.
l walked east through Thirty-sixth
street. My plan was d!abolical in Its
nature, but l hoped for good results
1t was nothing more nor less than to
call on certain friend and desert the
thing in his hall. In five minutes l
was in the easiest chair, busily en-
gagged in conversation. But | do not
remember of what we talked-my
heart was in the hall, with the UNI
brella. | know not how long | stay
ed or how | got away. My first dis
tinct recollection is of walking rapid
ly along the street-almost running
toward the lights on the corner. l
reached them, lodged around the cor
ner, caught my breath, then again
stopped breathing as l heard rapid
steps behind me. "Hold on. old man."
said my friend, you're running off
without your umbrella. Madge said
it could't be yours. but l told her
knew better, 50 here it is"
''Why, yes, it's m!ne-thank you
stupid thing for me to do-sorry to put
you to the trouble" Again 1t had
wound its tentacles around me. l
went down Madison avenue, and then
turned through Thirty-fifth street and
walked to Third avenue. / was be-
ginning to feel desperate again.
stopped on the corner, stood the UNI
brella against n lamp post and pre-
tended to button my glove. Then L
walked off with assumed careless
ness. A small boy chased after me,
restored my umbrella and did not re-
fuse a quarter for his kindness. l
turned in at a cheap concert hall and
sat ten minutes, but of course beer
bespattered waiter overlook me at the
door with it. l gave him dime.
walked down the avenue clutching
my inanimate enemy in both hands.
Overhead the elveated trains roared.
l looked at their disappearing red
lights, and entertained a wild notion
of hurling the umbrella up on the
platform of one of them. Then 1
turned my thoughts In the opposite
direction and considered stuffing 1t
down a sewer opening. But there
were too many people about for either
move. / went on under the sputter-
ing arc lights and among the drifting
crowds of people till l reached Four
teenth street. A newsboy stood on
the corner smoking the stub of cigar
ette. / walked up to him and held
out the umbrella.
sonny" l said, don't you want an
umbrellaT
"Mean t give 1t ter feller?"
"Yes."
He looked at it again and then up
at me, and said with virtuous indig-
nation:
docs yer take dis fer fence?
Mebby | didn't know Con O'Connell.
W'ere's Con to-day? Con received
stolen goods. an were is he now,
ask yer?" He turned on his heel and
walked away.
went through Fourteenth street
medtating deeply. Before l reached
Broadway | had determined to go
over into old Greenwich village and see
what / could do. ] felt that l knew
every crook and turn of GrGeenwich;
am one of those that love the Ninth
ward, and l have the courage of my
love; l live there. Many others love
it, and write glowingly about their
love, but they are found living above
Fifty-ninth street, and sometimes it
is necessary to penetrate Harlem to
find their homes, or even to make a
trek into Brooklyn.
l zigzaged across town to Seventh
and Greenwich avenues and turned
down the latter AS l passed the end
of Perry street, in which l lived,
/ encountered my friend officer
Dooney standing majestically on the
outpost of his dominions. | have al
ways made it practice to cultivate
the officer on the beat where | live.
"A foine evening, it is, sor," Observ-
ed Officer DOOney.
"Yes," / replied. what do you
think of the appointment to-dayY
"A shplendid one, sor. wy, I was
afther knowin' Miles Garvey on the
ould sod. A fOine judge he'll make,
an not be worryin' the life out of a
patrolman for the minor and super-r-
fluous particulars"
'It was another victory for Tam
many, of courseY
"Quite roight you are, sor. The
Hall does do the work., and it is
desarvin' of the rewards and per-