The Marietta journal. [volume] (Marietta, Ga.) 1866-1909, 1895-08-22
THE STREET CAR WOMAN.
The One Who Invariably Drops q Penny
of Her Fare.

Inero she Is
1t is neither shout from a single
individual nor a chorus of exclama-
lions from the passengers, but
mental ejaculation from each and
every one as the woman appears in
the rear door. Ali instantly recog-
nize her. She is not the woman who
occupies two seats, not the woman
who wants the front door left open
for her asthma, not the woman with
the poodle dog. No, no; she is the
woman who invariably loses penny
out of her hand or purse as she pays
her fare
"Now it will comet
The conductor assumes an air of
humility and enters and stands be-
fore her with palm turned upward.
Up to this point she has been settling
herself between long wasted girl
with bundle on her knees and a
detected looking man with a cataract
on the left eye. She suddenly realizes
that no one but an alderman rides
d. b. in street car, and she rouses
herself and fumbles for her purse.
She fumbles and fumbles and fun
bles. A man could have felt in every
one of his - pockets while she was
finding her one. Everybody looks at
her. Will she find it? Is there
pocket to be found? Isn't it in the
dress left hanging on its peg in the
closet?
All! She makes a discovery! The
elusive pocket is found at last, and
the cataract man smiles a glad smile,
and the girl with the bundle heaves
sigh of relief. From out of the
lodging, twisting, deceptive recep-
tacle is fished snakeskin portemon-
maize. No use to mentally wonder
over its oontents-a silver dime, five
pennies, a door key, four recipes, a
thimble and two or three sample
hairpins. With thumb and finger
she dives for the pennies.
One by one they are driven into a
corner and captured, and by and by
she has them all in the palm of her
right hand. She shoots out her hand
to drop them into the palm of the
conductor and at the same instant
crosses her feet, closes her porte
monnaie and looks around the car in
a defiant, triumphant way.
Something falls. Something rat
ties on the gratings. The conductor
counts. Zone, two, three, fourw
The fifth cent is missing, just as ev-
erybody expected. Now the man
with the cataract eye grins mali
ciously; the girl with the bundle is
glad ont; the dude with the yaller
gloves assumes tired attitude and
wishes he had never been born.
Heads are bent forward, and eyes
peer up and down and under the
seats. Feet are drawn up, skirts lift
ed off the floor, and hearts almost
cease to beat. The conductor gets
down on his knees to make a closer
search. The old chap in the front
end of the car picks up pin and
holds it up to view to show that it
isn't the lost cent. The grating must
come up. Everybody bitches toward
the front door and holds up his feet
and then toward the rear door and
holds them still higher. Seven long
minutes speed into eternity, and five
would be passengers on different
orosswalks are left standing there to
Jaw and cuss and want to punch
somebody's head.
All, ali, the lost is found! Snug
yed away in nest of peanut shucks,
trousers buttons and hairpins is the
missing cent, and the conductor
seizes it and holds it up in his fin
gers so that each and every passen-
ger may be certain that it is neither
a diamond ring nor yet a snow shov-
Ell. Then the grating is replaced, the
people draw long breaths of satisfac-
ton, and the woman who caused it
all sits up stiff1y and severely and
with proper dignity, and the rolling
car rolls on and on, and the world
slowly revolves on its axis, and the
conductor knocks down two fares
and is at peace with earth again.
| St T,oI1iS Rap11h1io