Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1901-05-17

AAIE all had seen better days, and
w we used to sit in the little par
Tor evenings and tell each other of
the glories of departed times with
quite pardonable pride. We were very
polite in our recognition of each 9TH
er's claims to past glories, more or less
great or remote, and because we were
poor we were merciful to our power
ty, and rose nobly above the petty
worldly vanities in the matter of raj
ment.
There was the little artist, with her
snuff-colored gown with the patch on
the left sleeve and the mended place
that showed above her belt. We knew
the number of stitches in that patch
and the mended place as well as we
knew the number of fingers on the
little withered hands that guided the
brush as deftly as though they had
been plump and white, instead of thin
and blue with the cold.
Then there was tall Teddy, the
newspaper sketchist, with tie near
sighted eyes that would peer in their
kindly way through the thick glasses;
and Mr.. Marlowe, the clerk, who
gathered our little change weekly
with as much dignity as though we
were renting en- suite in one of the
palatial inns downtown, and who
wrote sentimental stories for g paper
in the south. And there was the
dressmaker who had a one-burner gas
stove to heat her iron for pressing,
and who gave nice little coffee parties
in her room. We would contribute
he
and bring in our own cup, and sit on
the breakfast-food box and the side
of her bed and the window sill, and
the coffee used to taste very good in
deed. And there was the dancing
master who had afternoons in differ
ent halls around town, and who
would play on the piano for us even
ings, while the pretty girl, who
brought her shy blue eyes and pink
cheeks from the country to be
bleached out at the cashiers desk in
a steam laundry, would sing home
melodies and sometimes home hymns.
And there was the blind war veter-
an, who lived on pension, and there
was me - but, as Tommy Atkins
chrOnicler says, that is another story.
We were not unhappy, though we
never paid our rent more than
week in advance; sometimes we were
several weeks behind. And when some
of us would happen to have a CLEAN
of good fortune and make two or
three dollars extra, we all rejoiced
exceedingly and each felt a personal
pride in the sudden wealth, and then
we would celebrate in the little Oh ess-
makers room with hot coffee and
condensed milk.
We took our dinners at Bennie's.
which was nice little restaurant sew
eral doors down the street, where
the prices were such as would meet
the necessary restriction in expend-
iture of people who had been better
off. And when, now and then, one
of us would plead headache when
dinner time came, each of the others
looked as though we believed it.
which was not quite true, and said
we were sorry, which was true. And
then we would try to have a coffee
party in the dressmaker's room that
night at bedtime, and insist that it
would cure the headache. Which it
usually did.
We each of US had those kind of
headaches at different times, but we
held up bravely, and managed to get
through somehow.
After awhile the delicate rose pink
in the shy cashiers face began to
fade and the blue eyes to grow larg-
er, with ominous shadows smudged
around them. And because the rest
of us were city folk, and were more
or less accustomed to the hard grind
of city life, we felt uneasy. And when
the songs became fewer, because she
was so tired, and the pretty face was
turned YEARLY against the bacl, of
her chair, our little evening gossips
about old times became rather less
CHEEKY, and the wonder "why'' crept
into our thoughts, that we all tried
to drill into unquestioning acquies-
cence for ourselves.
Then the old blind war veteran. who
could not see the little face growing
paler and thinner, fretted because the
''song-bird'' was silent so often, and
we had to invent reasons.
So into the modest Hosiery of the
Has Beens the great dread crept, and
we who had felt rich as long as We
could go to Bennie's and did not have
a headache too often, began to feel
the pain of watching life slip from
Us, while we stood aside with poverty
manacled hands. "
One evening the little artist had a
headache. so after we had returned
from, Bennie's and sat for awhile in