The Jersey City news. (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1889-1906, 1899-09-23
THE LATE MR.. KNAPP
" " "
d STORY WHICH GOES TO SHOW
THAT Y0U CAN'T ALWAYS
TELL WHAT PEOPLE
MEAN BY WHAT THEY SAK.
"

lOu see, she WIS SUCH queer dtt1S
thing that we couldn't help taking hel
to our hearts at once. But there, that's
just the way with me. 1t always seems
to me as If everybody ought to know
the people ] know, without any partic-
ular explanation.
Well it was Just this way: That
summer that mother and I wanted to
paper the sitting room. though father
would have given mother his head II
she had asked for 1t, heads didn't
count. 1t was money we needed, and
of that he had none. Then after much
hard thinking I devised a plan, and,
though 1t was a great shock to father
and mother at first, I carried the day,
and the upshot OF it was that we ad-
yertised for a summer boarder for our
spare room. Unless you have done the
same thing at some awful crisis in
your life you can never for a moment
imagine, O reader, the awful mixture
of hope and fear that held place in our
hearts until we received a neatly writ
ten, briefly worded note signed
Phoebe Knapp"
Mother was taken with 1t at once,
and as she delights tn all things miser-
able because she can make them feel
better, she was especially captiyated
by the closing sentence, which ran,
Having recently met with a bereave-
ment, the rest and quiet you offer will
be a great boon to me-"
"Widow, likely" said father as we
read this note aloud in his presence for
the fifth Time
Miss or Mrs, Katie?" asked mother,
although we both knew the signature
by heart-"Yours sincerely, Phoebe
Knapp"
"I'm sure | don't know. I can't read
between the lines" / answered, rather
dippantly, | fear.
This unknown was beginning to take
Q sort Of weird possession of me. 1t
seemed uneanny that everything
should turn upon the movements of a
stranger whom we had never seen, and
wherever l TUNED | could not help see
ing a silent figure In a long Grape veil
lifting its hand and commanding me to
do this or that, upon which | was al
ready engaged
However, we were all ready for her
at last, and when father came from
the station and deposited upon the
front piazza a tiny little woman Of
about so years OF age, with big, fright
ened gray eyes, and delicate, sensitive
features, q creature that would have
looked small alongside a robust child
of 10, the contrast between this little
object and The commanding figure of
my imagination was SO great that /
almost had a fit OF Mysteries on the
spot. ! took refuge In flight, while
mother cooed and coddled the 1poor
dear and took her up to her DOM.
You see, mother was just In her ele-
ment, while I had all my notions to
readjust to existing circumstances.
My flights of fancy win be the death
of me some day. father says
I caught mother on the stair a mo-
ment as they were coming down and
breathed softly into her ear Miss or
Mrs? Z"
Il don't know. I couldn't find out"
answered mother in that awful stage
whisper OF hers that sends me nearly
Into fits whenever she tries it. But u
boarder did not seem to notice. | made
q venture on a bold stroke. 81 shall
call her Mrs. Knapp, and then she a
correct me if she doesn't like it. I've
always heard that it gives a middle
aged married woman much greater
offense to be called Miss than it does
to address a single sister as Mrs. so
here goes"
Il hope you had q pleasant trip down,
M-m," I said pleasantly, allowing my
voice to die away on the last syllables
I found my courage oozing out at
the tip Of my tongue. I couldn't say
Mrs. Knapp after all, to save me
I noticed with much amusement that
father and mother avoided the pitfall
as successfully as l did, during that
first meal. and we all went out OF the
piazza after supper to enjoy the sunset.
Here our guest set our minds at rest.
How james would have enjoyed
this!" exclawned she softly, as il half
to herself. Mother nodded so vigorous
ly and tr~iumphantly behind her back
that l was afraid she would notice 1t
and SO fastened to nod in reply. We
knew now. She was a widow. HE
loved to sit beside me and watch the
setting sun, even in the city, she went
on softly. 1T seems terribly lonely
without him. oh, II | could only have
brought him out into such a peaceful
place as this, he might be alive now!
That last hot spell was SO hard on him.
i thought perhaps he had a sunstroke,
but | could not tell.v
Mothers eyes filed with sympathetic
tears, and as she laid her hand gently
over that of Mrs. Knapp she inquired
tenderly, How long is it since he died.
dear?"
six weeks" answered the widow.
@He was all that / had In the world.
and / have been SO lonely ever since.
But. please. Mrs. Curtia, / cannot talk
about 1t quite yet"
Nevertheless, she did talk about IT.
quite a good deal In the days that fol-
lowed, with the effect that /, who was
q wide awake girl at that time, PEI
euliarly susceptible to first impress