The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1895-08-16
miscellaneous.
THE EMIGRANT GIRL.


great emigrant office the sun beat like
| a gigantic burning glass, the blue flies
| buzzed noisily in the window frames,
and HonOra Hough sat uneasily ON
her hard wooden bench, her heart
throbbing restlessly at every sound
SIS that IL o'clock striking ?' she
ventured to ask at last of a good-na-
tured official who was writing at tall
desk close by.
That's 70 O'clock he said, care
fully blotting page 81 before he turned
to page 90.
And no one has come for me yet ~
mo one has come for you yet"
And the official commenced on a
new page with fresh dip of the pen
Honora's heart beat faster than
ever a sort of mist seemed to gather
over her blue eyes. Did she fall
asleep, or was it ols,y a sort of waking
swoon from which She aroused to hear
some one saying close to her:
Ever since this time yesterday,
and not a soul has inquired for her.
think it's more than likely she'd be
glad of decent place. Wouldn't you,
young woman ~
81 want some one right away" said
spare, hard featured, elderly woman,
Will d DIShSb O1 IlOI anu d CTlIup
cap under her bonnet. my daugh-
ter is very sick, and | can't get along
no longer without help. The wages
amt high, but it's good home for
any young woman that I'll guaran-
tee
Honora drew a long breath, glanced
once more wishfully at the window,
and then decided.
"rll 60" said she.
Perhaps it was as well that she ar
rived at that conclusion. The sick
ness incident to the sea-yoyage and
long waiting for the friends who had
not come had pretty well undermined
her nervous system, and she was at
last spared the shock of the fire
which, although not serious-merely
a spark from the smoldering cigar of
a gentleman visitor, falling in a scrap
basket full of torn envelopes and pa
pers-waS sufficient to give all the em-
ployes good fright, and to erase from
the emigrant bureau world all trace of
poor little Honona Hough's where
abouts as penciled down on one of the
slips of paper that were destroyed.
She went home with Mrs. Carey,
helped nurse poor little Sarah Carey
on her weary journey out of the world,
took filial care of the old lady herself
i'll the days when rheumatism racked
every bone and joint, and finally mar
ried Ben hims elf-Mrs. Carey's son
Sarah's brother-who, alas for the
reign of romance was IA dealer in rags
and bottles, and daily drove Il cart ella
morous with bells and drawn by
subdued old gray horse about the
streets.
Il always thought confessed
Honora, that should marry Il cat
tie king when | came to this country,
or Il rich gold digger, or some things
of that kind. People get things
twisted all sorts of ways in the old
country. But am sure Ben is nicer
than a cattle king could be ~
IF | was a gold-digger, though
shrewdly observed Ben. 81 might
have given you bigger house, than
this little one-storied shanty, and
something beside calico to wear"
II don't want anything but you
Ben ~ said Honora, her pretty, quaint
brogue accentuated, as it always was,
by strong emotion.
And no millionaire of the lot could
love you better than / do, Nora" said
the young man, simply.
1t was all very well, this love ina
OuSihSSS, Willie IlOy "CIC
we'll and trade held its own. But
even in the rag and bottle profession
there is competition-and the horse
fell lame, and Ben Carey lay i'll for
weeks with low type of fever. Then
it was that, what with nursing Ben
all day, and walking the floor with
the teething baby at night, and trying
to edge in a little clear-starching and
fine needle-work for a neighboring
ladies furnishing store between
whites, so that the store of money in
the cracked teapot on the dresser
shelf need not run quite dry, Honora
grew gaunt and pale, and her eyes got
bigger and bluer day by day. Yet all
this was forgotten in the first day
when Ben started out again with the
wagon and Old Whitley and the string
of clamorous bells, and Honora held
the baby up to the window to laugh
and clap his tiny hands with glee.
Hold ON there ~ said hardfea-
tured man, with a dogseared MEM
orandum book under his arm. Not
so fast Mr.. Carey if you please. Them
last installments on the 'orse wasn't
paid, and I've orders to slap down on
him. Our folks has a call for just
such 'orse.n
Den GuTueu pale LIZ lOSo olo
Whitey-that would, indeed, be the
cruelest stroke of fate
Cant you give fellow little
time p said he. 1--WE been sick, and
''Oh, yes, that's what they all say"
said the man. We've give more
time already than we can afford.
Business is business and if the back
installments isn't squared up by this
day week the 'orse will be called for
that's ALL"
Poor, Carey Like most American
farmers sons, he had been brought
up to no particular trade or profess
sion, and all that day as he tangled
his bells up one street and down an
other, lovingly flicking the flies from
Old Whitey's neck with the whip, he
badgered his brains to think what he
could do to keep Honora and the little
one if the horse was taken away.
Nevertheless, he came cheerfully
home at the days end. Because I'm
in a bad box, it amt worth while to
scold and fret, and make Nora and
the boy miserable" reasoned Ben.
Il got a good lot of old iron and
household utensils today, Nora" said
he cheerfully, when she brought the
| baby out into the back yard to watch
him unload. "P'r'aps there might
be something you could use in the
| kitchen