Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1901-11-21
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81 T.C.BYRNE

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1 Adroitly enough. he learned who the
man was, a lawyer. a politician, pro-
fessional corrupter of legislatures. And
The saint? On, little typewriter Miss
Browne, who seemed rather demure
/ for man like Lawson. who was rather
"a good fellow" Strange that when
some men say a good fellow they are
thinking of qualities never found in a
summary of the virtues,
Then ONeiil wrote a letter such as
Galahad had he lived in these siren
uous Gays. might have written, He eX-
planned how he had seen the affror. to
which she had been subjected, regretted
deeply that as his own law practice was
such a negative quantity he could not
give her a regular position as his stem
ographer, bur offered her desk room in
his Office and assured her that he would
secure her work from the other law
yers in the building. who. like himself,
needed work done, but whose meager
incomes would not permit them to en-
ploy stenographer the entire time.
The answer was a formal little note
requesting him to call at her home to
meet her mother.
He went, of course The mother,
soft voiced and gentle eyed, explained
the saint. She was, indeed, an edition
de luxe of her daughter, refined and
glorified by life But the young man
was too young, too little of an artist to
appreciate that. Both women We're SO
grateful, it was not strange that he
went again and often. And he found
himself wondering at the truly marvel
Gus way in which women can impart an
atmosphere of home and refinement 10
even four room fiat.
He ceased gazing across the court
during his business hours, for was she
not enshrined in his own Office? She
was busy, too, earning more money
than when with the satyr. for O'Neill
had proved a good solicitor, and he had
secured her more work than she could
do.
Her unfagglng industry aroused his
own zeal shamed him into emulation.
and the book, until then only dreamed
of, was in The publishers hands before
he dared to tell her how long he had
called her the saint when her real
name was a mystery,
But. why?' she said. opening wide
her big, brown eyes, that perhaps look
ed more ignorant of his meaning than
they really were Il am not so very
good You know | nave an awful tenn
per
Good he exclaimed. ooh, | could
say my prayers to you, If | weren't
such a beggar I'd ask''-Then he stop
ped. How could an unworthy man ask
a saint to stoop save in pity and he
did not want pity,
81 thought beggars We're the ones
who needed to ask, she said softly.
But want so much, he pleaded.
II am sorry she faltered. though an
acute observer would have thought that
the eyes. shining like stars. We're
frightened by other emotions than sor-
row, for | have but little to give"
So little, Oh, my saint'-imploring
lY-"you can give me heaven-if you
only will, if you only Will"
1t isn't mine to give you you sac
religious boy, and If it Were | would
want TO keep it for myself, but" and
now he had to bend to hear, for her
head was dropping and her voice came
softly. tremulously-"b | think we
could find it togeth er."
And then--oh. the strange unreason-
ableness of mamie did the very
thing that he had condemned the satyr
for doing But his eyebrows. to be
sure, We're not polygamous and the
saint, in her goodness forgave him; SO,
perhaps, there was difference
ONeills work mostly clever maya
zine articles and editorials. has been in
such demand since his book. Strikes
and Socialism, proved a success that
he needs the entire services of the saint.
whom his friends call Mrs O'NeiI. And
the heaven which they share is coll
Ioquially konwn as the Happy Flat "