The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1899-11-03
A Bottled Proposal

any other city. More shame to it! But
yet on this particular morning romance
was not in the least wanting. Some
one was saying:
MY dear Rose, of course 1 mean all
what's straight. How could anyone do
otherwise, my dear little woman?"
The young man who thus spake was
a well-groomed creature, with some
what assertive air of gloves, ties and
gardenia in button hole. The gloss ON
his hat would have more than passed
muster in Capel Court. His spats were
not unworthy of Kempton Park. His
stick was a triumph of hooked poetry,
and would have shed a luster on the
Promenade DIES Anglais in the height
of the Riviera season. Yet, despite all
this, there was an over-smartness both
morally as well as physically which
was not by any means agreeable.
The girl he was speaking to? Type
writer of the highest order persona
fled.
So Miss Rose Johnson's Gig of Re-
spectability was Hansom's Patent
Safety.
So she evidently meant it to be I'M
Gerstood as the tale of love was being
told into her shapely ear this steam
ing not morning by the dustbins OF
Threadneedle street.
Rose" again said the young man,
who was walking beside her with his
glove touching her elbow, Rose, how
can you doubt me-"
IF you wanted to marry me-" she
answered, couldn't you have written
and said so?''-and, perhaps imper-
ceptibly even to herself, there was
faint lowering of the dexter eyelid.
.'But, then, you're lawyer, Mr.. Ster-
rimer, and lawyers are not overrash
at putting pen to paper"
what prosaic little darling you
are! Haven't I publicly shown you
every attention."
Eyes, you gave me watch, ring, UNI
brella, before my cousins. Watch at
Richmond; ring at Box Hill, in the
Burford Bridge Gardens; umbrella at
the Holborn, when you stood that din
ner to Maude and me before we had the
box at the Tivoli. But I'm busy now,
and have got to turn in. Ta-ta! Per-
haps you will be round IN the after
noon."
"Good-by, darling" and the young
solicitor, for such he was, spoke in as
dulcet tones as if he were asking tax
ing clerk in chancery chambers not to
knock off toe many letters. But when
the girl had tripped away up the stone
steps of her office somewhat serious
look shaded his face.
Think I'm going a bit too far.
Meeting the ma was rather stupid. l.
don't think I gave myself away much
before the girls. But how nice she is,
and how nicely she does manage to take
care of her dear little self! Too risky,
though, j. Laurence Sterrimer, Esq.
Fellers who are rising professional men
don't want to marry typewriters. Be
sides, you stand chance of getting
Louisa Rousenbaum. And 5000 shin
ing golden beans, dear boy, make
good lift for good start
He was. you see, a careful young man,
who well knew how to take care of him.
self. If he patronized a music hall
matinee-and he loved to DO so II sup
piled with the gratuitous order : he
never seltzer-andw hiskied it in i'm
moderation. His betting transactions
were few and far between, yet for
tunate. The "Juggins,' as he loved to
think, was a man after his own heart;
that is, he would not succeed in being
after his own pocket. He was the sort
of young man who kept cigar case for
himself and a cigarette ditto for his
friends. In his profession as solicitor
he was curiously smart. He could
snap Judgment or hold his own amidst
any of the denizens of the Bear Garden
in the royal courts of justice.
Yet, for all that, such is the force of
love, vanity, inclination, or what not,
that that very self-same afternoon he
found himself seated alone with Miss
Rose johnson in the room where she
worked.
AS usual, the youth told his tale of
love. The maid did not appear to be
immoderately coy.
''And do you mean to marry me?"
asked sweet Rose. IF am SO ugly
she smiled oquettishly-''youc can shut
your eyes as you make your proposal
again. viii you say, as you did before:
Dear Rose, love you for your beauty
and virtue. Be my wife, darling! l
should glory in your love, and glory to
make it known to all the world Shut
your eyes, sir, and you shall smell these
lovely roses to inspire you and make
you think of your own dear Rose"
J. Laurence Sterrimer, ESQ.,, looked
about him. There were no witnesses.
No one behind the screen; nobody at
the keyhole. The room was double
doored, green baize and heavy oak. In
spired by love and the bouquet of roses
placed against his somewhat Hebraic
proboscis, he said with manly distinct
ness:
Dear Rose, / love you for your beau
ty and virtue. Be my wife, darling! /
should glory in your love, and glory to
make it known to all the world"
The young man opened his eyes. The
girl had laid the bouquet of roses on the
side table. He clasped her to his heart.
Three weeks afterward j. Laurence
Sterrimer was cycling two letters which