The Portland daily press., 1896-10-16
AN OFFICE ROMANCE.

drew from the depths Of his pocket his pipe
END then glanced about the room for nv
tobacco bowl. 1t was not in sight, a fact
that caused him to gaze upon me in mute
wonder
''I've stopped said, smiling.
"Stoppedr' he shouted, humping his
pipe on the arm of his chair. Moved into
this fat in the skies and stopped smokingi
Man, man, what have you not done while
4 have been away You've given up -"
He ceased abruptly and looked toward the
door.
Had known that you were coming 1
would have had little of the weed on
hand, but l thought you were far away
from town"
at suppose should be more welcome if
were far away. Things have changed in
the last six months. IN the old boarding
house days Swash was always welcome to
your easy chair and your tobacco bowl I
go away; I return, and to see you have to
journey to Harlem, pick my way through
a front stoop full Of fiat jewellers, climb
five flights Of stairs and get out my pipe to
find that you have given up tobacco. Ex-
plain it all, Dookboy, explain it. -
When the conservative house of Jute
Bros. began to consider the necessity of de-
parting from an old rut and Introducing a
typewriting machine into its Office / was
one of the strongest opponents Of the pro-
posed innovation-so strong, In fact, that
Cyrus Jute, himself business man Of the
old school, delayed for year the change
from our system Of autograph letters.
But it had to come For this reason I
had from the very beginning an antipathy
for Miss Evelina Wiltkin Against the
young woman personally had nothing,
but it was only natural that she should be
the victim of some Of that aversion which
I had conceived for the post that she occu-
pied.
When she entered in the morning, I
bowed and after that she was nothing to
me. l never even heard the rattle Of keys
behind me, although her desk was but q
few yards distant.
Such being the condition of affairs it
was impossible for me not to be surprised
startled, might better say-when Cyrus
Jute one morning when was in his pri-
vate Office, seized my hand and cried heart
lily, "Well, Dockboy, wish you joy"
Mr.. Jute, please explain yourself" I
cried, for I was greatly puzzled.
My dear fellow, although you will de-
prive us of charming typewriter
1T is a Terrible mistake interrupted,
with warmth. 1t was all plain to me now
In some manner my name had become
linked with that of Evelina Wiltkin. In
reply to my remonstrance Mr.. Jute
whirled around three times on his Office
chair and laughed.
"Come, come, Dockboy," he cried ct
know you are a shy fellow, but why deny
thisp 1t has been the talk of the office for
week. Young Harry Butterput declares
that it was a case of mutual first sight,
but the assistant bookkeeper is positive
that she didn It get 'em until you began the
violet scheme
"Mr. Jute, there is some terrible mis-
take" said solemnly. GAS for young
Harry Butternut have suspected more
than once that he had 'em himself, as you
put 1t, for l constantly hear him behind
me whispering to her, and am sure that
Columns neglected to balance up his books
the other night when it rained that he
might take her to the "L" station under
his umbrella. know that Books, the ship
ping clerk, sent her valentine, because I
saw the envelope in the scrap basket, and
1t was in his handwriting, disguised. As
for me, assure you, sir, that have never
given the young woman thought. I have
been oblivions 10 her presence. Why, you
know how objected to her introduction
into the office at all.
1t is useless for you to deny it, retort-
ID my employer. IF have been little
premature, I beg pardon. But you know
the boys gave me to believe that there
were grounds. How about the violets?'
''Violetsl What violetss'' I was as
to1nded.
snow, see here, Dockboy. this coyness
Is depressing. You know as well as 1 do
about those violets; how every morning
for three weeks Miss Wiltkin has found a
bunch Of them on her desk All the boys
deny that they are responsible, and so no
one else but you could have done it, And
they say her smile when she gets them is
worth-well, positively envy you.''
Apparently every mans hand was
against me- Confusion to them ALTO
Cyrus Jute, the impudent young Butter
nut, Columns and his superior, High
Btule, Books and the whole crew of the
outer officei
II deny it all, Mir. Jute,'' cried. And
with that fed from his presence.
I thought over the violet problem long
and carefully, in vain endeavor to decide
whether it was possible for any one but me
to have put them on the desk
Butternut at $l2 per week could not af-
lord them at winter prices, old Highstule
was married and the father of eight chill
dfen, Columns was too VIGOROUSLY eco.
nomical to waste his salary In such direo-
lions, Books supported his sister at wom-
ans college, Finnegan, the office boy, had
been saving for months to get money with
which to buy baseball SUIT
Three possibilities were left, Cyrus Jute,
Mike, the italian porter, and myself--the
first impossible, the second improbable,
the third certainly not guilty.
Could there be conspiracy on the part
of the Office to drag me from the shell of
single blessedness in which had incased
myself for 20 years, to crush in a day those
boarding house ties it had taken a decade
to form, to Danish me to top floor, II
room fas In HariemP
was at the Office Few minutes earlier
next day, and the first thing that met my
eyes was bunch of violets on Miss Wilt
kin's desk. A few minutes later she az
rived, and swung around In my chair for