Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1894-05-18

%sS&s-.s-=----- doors 1T was so raw,
SO penetrating, that the constant effort
to keep up circulation to fight against
the weakening influence of the cold,
absorbed every energy and left little
over for thought, for plans, for busi-
ness or pleasure. Inside, rooms were
heated to suffocating, baking close
ness, and men were languid. They
stood at windows and looked at the
icy streets, or held hands to aching
heads over ledgers.
In the big insurance office two men
were talking in n private room. A card
was brought in, and an old man fol-
lowed it rapidly. He was little
bent, which shortened his fig
ure, and he held his head at
a peculiar sidewise angle. He
shuffied a little as he walked, but the
very loose and heavy Arctic overshoes
upon his feet may have had something
to do with that. His brown overcoat,
o good deal worn at the elbows. was
lorg and of comfortable, old-fash-
ioned pattern. A gray knitted wooden
scarf was wound around and around
his neck, and WOODEN gloves were upon
his hands. He put one of these hands
up to his ear, and cupped his
palm to catch every sound when he
was spoken to, and then you saw why
he carried his head so oddly. He was
deaf.
He had come in, he explained, to
have his life insured. He had often
thought of doing SO, but had never
been in position where he felt that
he could regularly pay the premium
before. He was kindly faced man,
who seemed to state facts because they
were such, without understanding any
reason why they should be concealed.
His eyes were clear and apparently
good, although not very wide open.
I'VE shall require you to fill out
blank before we can consider your ap-
plication," the manager said "We
seldom take men of your age"
81 am not SO old as 1 look, the ap-
plicant replied. 81 know that the
premium will be large, but 1 have
regular income, which ceases at my
death, and l have lately found a dear
young friend to whom l should like to
leave something. l might take q fancy
to go walking on the railroad track
some day." and he smiled whimsically.
we will have that put in your pol
ICY, said the manager, gravely.
When he had filed out his applica-
tlon blank, we discovered that his name
was Louis A. Cattermole, that he was
forty -four years of age, and came of
perfectly healthy parents. He said that
he was born in central Missouri, that his
father had been killed in the war, and
his mother had beea blown up on a
Mississippi steamboat. He had no near
relatives whom he knew. He had
been q wanderer upon the face of the
earth. Three years before, he had
met John Mackley, young New
Yorker, on a journey through the
South, and he had come to New York
'ery recently to live.
He seemed to be a sociable sort of
!euow, although looking ten years OIL
der than he said he was He had an
ingenious way of talking, which
might have come from central Mis-
'ourI. McCary, the insurance mana
ger, came from Kentucky, and he
rather enjoyed verbosity when he could
;onscientiously listen to it, without
eellng that he was establishing a pre-
,edent.
81 am afraid" he said to Cetter-
mole, THAT you will never pass the
doctors"
But he did. They were astonished
to find SO vigorous frame.
Sound as nut. In remark
ible state of preservation The
teeth arn't good, but leav-
ing out that and the deafness, that's
as fine specimen as I ever saw at
torty-four," the doctor reported. So,
after all the preliminaries were gone
through, Louis A. Cattermole received
policy upon his life, made out in fa-
tor of John Mackley, the young stock
broker on New street
We made great many inquiries, of
'ourse, Mackley, who was big,