The Portland daily press., 1895-06-01

houses had been my home in Chicago.
I had always been single man, just as
am to this day. This landlord was
good hearted old chap, and it was pleas
ant to talk with him. While we were
sitting there who should come along the
street but Lucy, with book in her
hand. She was on the opposite sidewalk
and did not LOOK up. she would not
look at hotel on Sunday. / asked the
landlord about her, and he told me all
there was to tell. She was living in one
end of little wooden cottage over to-
ward Winooski, another factory woman
occupying the other part of the house
They made home together. The land
lord said Lucy was an excellent woman
and might have married one of the over
seers in the factory any time she chose
for years back, but that she preferred
single life.
"When Igot back to Chicago, I kept
thinking about Lucy Cary. The old
times when we used to live in Whining
ton came back to my mind. The truth
of it was I was getting along little at
last in Chicago in the way of property,
and found myself all the while plan
ming how could have Lucy Gary near
me.
Ibid you want to marry her, Tim
othy?" inquired Mrs. Pember.
"It was not that" he replied, "but
wanted to become acquainted with her
again. / knew she was the best girl |
had ever seen. She was just as good and
pious as anybody could be. We were like
brother and sister, almost, when young,
and when I thought of home and my
folks and old Wilmington and the col
lege days somehow Lucy was the center
Of it all. In fact, almost everything else
was gone. My folks were scattered, and
Lucy and Uncle Jason were nearly the
only persons up this way that l could
lay claim to- There is a kind of lone
some streak comes over a man when he
has been grinding away in great city
for good many years and comes back
to the old places and sees them SO fresh
and green and quiet, and he can't get
over it. He will cling to anything that
belongs to old ti1fies. Iwas strongly in
fiuenced to write to Lucy, but / finally
did not. I determiped that would get
all I could for two or three years, and
then | would come here and face things.
I would get something comfortable and
would have place of my own in Chi
eago. Then, when / had it fixed. ]
would come and see Uncle Jason and
Lucy and stand the racket. Of4course it
was nonsense to feel shy, but it seemed
|. to me that l could not s" q word until
I had something to brag They knew,
| in a general way, that / was in Chica-
go, dealing in pork or doing auctioneer-
| ing or something, and that was as much
humiliation as I could endure. To be
sure it was nothing to be ashamed ct, fol-
| I had been an honest, faithful man, but
to come back to my friends empty hand
ed, without money or fame, and gray
headed at that, was more than could
stand. If / had had anything or been
anything, just to take the edge off, l
.Eeonld have managed it. As it was, ]
looked ahead and worked. If any man
| in Chicago has tried and planned and
toiled during the last three years, am
1 that man There has been picture be-
| fore my mind of a pleasant home there -
"And have you calculated to marry
Lucy Cary?" inquired Mrs. Pember in
an eager voice
Perhaps it was not just in that way
I thought of it, replied the narrator,
very seriously. "You know, told you
that the landlord said she preferred a
single life .
| h Timothy Tompkins, !" exclaimed the
old lady apprehensively, "don't deny it
-don'5! Think how dreadfully you
will feel if you know you have told a
ie!"
! SIT is nothing to be ashamed of. Tim
othy," said Mr. Pember in kind aud
sympathetic voice.
''If you put it in that way" answer
I ed my old classmate instrangely mourn.
full tones, "all I can say is there was
never anything between us; nothing al
all. :"
"And did you come here this time tJ
see her?" inquired Mrs Pember, almost
starting from her seat and with the
thrill of a sudden guess in her voice.
II suppose it was as much that as
anything" replied Tompkins dogged
| ly, locking down and poking with a
short stick in the ground at his feet.
"And that is what has made you act
| SO queer, mused Mrs. Pember.
"Havo you seen her?'
"Let him tell the story, Caroline, u
urged the old gentleman peevishly.
Tompkins looked gloomily out upon
the lake and the broad landscape for 6
! few moments. and then, resuming hi.
narrative, said:
"As Twas saying, have worked hare
and have got nice little pile. I an
4 worth S35, 900. When I made up my
mind to come east this summer, the
money to pay Uncle Jason for what he
had done was all ready. 1t made me
choke to think how long 1 had let il
run I figured it up as near as could
the $500 that came to me III the col
| Iege and the $500 after that-and I put
in the simple interest at Z per cent, ac