Akron daily Democrat. [volume] (Akron, Ohio) 1892-1902, 1899-06-02
4 SENTIMENTAL TYPEWRITER
By IRWIN THOMAS.

Like the great majority of persons,
have no recollection of my real early life.
My earliest recollection is the day l came
into use. l had been sitting upon shelf
in the store, where there were half dozen
of my kind exactly like me.
''If you want brand new machine,
miss" heard the salesman say, 'why,
here is one that is a beauty. 1t has several
of the latest improvements which are not
on our old typewriters. -
''Well, I want new one, said a sweet,
musical voice. and the salesman took the
cover off me. l saw girl about 90 years
old "A good looker,' commented to
myself. Little did 1 think at that time
that she was to be my mistress as long as
she was or that l should ever learn TO love
her as did in after life. She sat down at
a table while the salesman placed me in
front of her. She ran her fingers over me,
and felt q thrill.
1T is a lovely machine" she said.
Don't l get any discount
There was some transaction that did
not hear. An hour later l was in Wall
street, and she was patting me while a
well dressed man blew tobacco smoke in
my face and told her what to write.
was with her for a year before 1 really
knew 1 loved her. 1t flashed over me in
an instant 1t was summer. There was
absolutely nothing to do that could see.
About O'Clock the boss came in.
pretty hotr' said he ashe pulled off
his coat. Jennie" he continued, will
you go down to Manhattan Beach?"
81 don't see how 1 can," she replied,
resting her arm on me. 81 am going out
this evening, or at least half way prom
ised TO 60"
Come on" said he. 1--WE can get a
boat and be down there while you re talk
ing about it.
As she put on her hat TO go felt my
first pang of jealousy. The boss was
good looking young man. He was free
and easy with every body except his father,
an old gentleman who came around occa-
sionally and said whole lot of things
about when he was a young man and then
didn't show up again for another two
weeks
As the pair left the office together it
seemed to me that my happy existence
was at an end. All day Sunday it rained
This did not lessen my fit of the blues,
and 1 was glad when the day was over.
Monday morning my mistress came in,
and we were soon at work. That after
noon the boss was attentive to her. When
the days work was done, they left the
office together. My feelings cannot be
described. No typewriter that has not
been jealous will ever know how felt.
The next day was sick at heart. was
SO ill that my upper case H, A, r, and
E would not work. A man came from the
factory He was blacksmith, who never
should have been sent. He said that water
had been spilled over me and my keys
were stuck. How little he suspected that
it was the brine of my tears that had
caused the rust. ran along for awhile
and then was considered permanently dis
abled.
I remember the day saw him kiss her
and saw her blush. In my Indignation
my ribbon turned from black to purple,
and two of my keys were broken. The
next day that same blacksmith said was
undoubtedly a defective machine He
offered her a new one for me. and the offer
was accepted. Two hours later man in
the office of the company said was as
good a typewriter as the factory had
turned out, but that 1 had been abused.
He understands, thought.
After three weeks in a secondhand shop
was purchased by a school of stenog
raphy and typewriting. Did ever another
go through what did? A year
later was seized by deputy sheriff and
got my first glimpse of politics. was
knocked down at auction for trif1e and
was in a public office for two months
Then again 1 was back in the second
hand shop.
Who should enter one day but my old
She wanted machine of my
only make, by the way-but
then we all say that. She wanted second
hand machine. and I was shown her.
Time had changed US both. She did not
me at first, then she saw my
and cried. She carried me away
with her Never, if I live forever, will
forget the joy of seeing her. She made
me sing, and, in the delirium of my joy,
OWNED her thoughts, and she scarcely
had to touch my keys.
She never told me what had become of
her other place, the boss or the machine
that took my place. We were in big
office now. At times she would sit and
look at me as though she were sorry that
she ever had parted with me, but was
born for sorrow, and after basking in the
sunlight of her smile for two years she
left me covered up one night. never saw
her again.
When my cover was taken off, was
again in a secondhand shop with a lot of
broken down hacks of inferior makes.
Every day I think will be my last, but
Am hanging on, hoping, wishing, praying
that perhaps she has not forgotten me,
md as the brute who is working me
'wears at me, as my old keys shake and
vabble, wonder if she will ever come.
hope in her old age that she is happy
New York Press.