Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1898-05-05
door holding an umbrella over his head

door holding an umbrella over his head
and asked:
ibid you want to know something
about the boats, MADAME"
81 don't know" began the trembling
Miss Narg'ret. Then she remembered
the dignity due her as the daughter of
the late DR.. Bradshaw, of Towertown,
and sister of the present Mr.. Edward
Bradshaw, one Of the c;ty's rising young
lawyers. So she gathered the string of
her little satin handbag up with a de-
fiant twist and went on:
eyes, want to see the man who owns
that boat" s.-..@
The startled youth followed the
point of the little umbrella till his ewes
lighted on the innocent margaret L.
Bradshaw" Then he gathered himself
together, and began:
'Well, the owner doesn't come down
here very often this time of the wear.
But if it is anything about time-ta bles,
or rates, Or"
II want to. see the man himself,'' put
in little Miss .Marg'ret, as she began
to realize that she would have to fight
her own battles. 81 want to talk to
him-.to talk to him all by himself.''
The boy began to think that he had
encountered some one who had a per-
sonal grievance against the owner of
the company. Still, the tiny spinster
certainly looked innocent and helpless
enough; besides, the rain was leaking
through his thin shoes in anything but
a cheerful fashion. So he gave his arm
to the trembling Miss Bradley, piloted
her across the swimming pavement in
the grins of windowful of sympathiz-
ing fellow clerks and deposited his timid
charge in big armchair while he went
to the manager with the story.
If business had been brisk probably
Miss Marg'ret would have been sent
off with a curt dismissal. But it was
dull day, and, for wonder, the owner
of the Margaret L. Bradshaw was at
the Office, looking over a few details be-
fore setting off for a summer abroad.
The manager tiptoed into the office of
the great man, told the story of the
dripping little spinster in the outer Of
fee, and was instructed to usher her
in.
Miss Marg'ret's fingers were con-
gealed with numbness. and her sensi-
tive lips twitched pitifully. At the sight
of the tall, handsome man, who
glanced, carelessly up at her, she stag
gered a little-he wasn't the boy who
had left Towertown couple of decades
ago. Still, as the bright eyes lit up with
a newer interest there certainly was a
familiar CLEAN in them, and the mouth
always had been firm. But what had
turned all those fine, rudy locks to
snowy softness?, Poor Marg'ret forgot
how her own once sunny curls had
whitened. -.
There must have been something in
the little lady which had remained of
her lost girlhood,,j for the famous mil
lionaire found himself all at once re-
minded of a lilac-scented hillside with
the tones of fond girlish voice in his
ears, and his kindly smile gave the
trembling little woman courage to say:
"Are you Jonathan Carpenter? Don't
you remember Marg'ret?"
Jonathan Carpenter caught his breath
with a mighty effort; then he took
couple of steps forward and caught the
tiny, cold fingers in his hands.
'How did you find me?" he demand
ed, as he drew the trembling little
sweetheart tight in his strong, manly
arms.
''The boat" sobbed Marg'ret. II saw
the boat and I came"
THE boat then proves that never
forgot you. When 1 left Towertown it
was many years before fortune was
good enough to Inc to permit me to tell
you I loved you. By that time 1 felt
that you had forgotten me. So kept
only a memory-and the boat. And,
my dear, Marg'ret, the boat is going to
have new name-"The Margaret L.
Carpenter. Chicago Daily News.
Ancient Methods of Signaling.
The fabulous honor of being the
first inventor of the art of signaling