The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1902-04-25
A DIFFERENT ENDING
BY CHARLES TOWNSEND.

tied; she was willful, he was stubborn. So
there you are.
She sent him frosty note with his ring
and other trinkets. He bundled up the
various mementoes of a stormy, "happy
past and sent them to her without word.
She cried little to herself, then plunged
into the whirl of society and apparently
forgot him. He swore considerably to him
self, and then betook him to the strenuous
west, where he actually did forget her.
Well. All this happened seven years ago
in a small eastern city, where everything
looked dwarfed to Corson that wintry after
noon. He had returned with comfortable
fortune, made partly in "boom" town and
partly in Klondike trading, and had turned
homeward to enjoy some well-earned rest
and recreation.
The cold, short day was already in the
cleaning, while here and there lights were
flashing through the eddying snow
Corson had started out blithely enough
to look up some of his former friends, but
was doomed to disappointment, for with
few exceptions the old crowd was scattered
and gone. And those who remained seemed
but ghosts of their former selves, settled
down as they were into humdrum life
which moved in narrow and ever narrow
ing circles.
''The burgh is dead as nails" he muttered
as he plodded on through the snow, after a
dreary call on one of his old friends who
seemed blissfully unconscious of the fact
that he was buried alive in an unprogressive
town. "The place is dead, the people are
dead, and nobody seems to know it or care
continental-hello! Who's this?"
Corson's TRADE suddenly stopped. He
had nearly stumbled over little girl who
stood before him in the storm swept street;
a morsel of humanity, bare headed, clothed
in rags and sobbing bitterly.
STOPPING down, Corson gathered up the
child in his strong arms.
whats the matter, little one" he
asked, cheerily.
81 ruined away, and Pm frozed, I is,
and I-I-Tm los'ed," sobbed the mite.
Ran away, Ell? Well then you must run
back again"
81 did, and the more | ruined the more
way off l was"
'"That so? All right; I'll take you home
Where do you live?"
81 live t home" with fresh sob, "and I
want my mamma and Kitty"
80 come now, dearie, don't cry" sooth-
ingly, "you shall have your mother and
your kitten, too
"Kitty amt cat!" Indignantly, cts a
doll"
''Why, of course" agreed Corson, as he
placed the child ON the ground for a mo-
ment while he whipped off his heavy over
coat. Then he wrapped the little one in it,
''Now, then," he inquired, as he picked her
up again and strobe down the street, "what
is your name?
"Pet, gently" came from the depths of the
overcoat.
'That's pretty name; but what is your
other one?"
''Well," obviously, mamma was goin' to
erect me once, and then she called me Amy
Leslie German"
Amy Leslie? That was her name! Could
it be that
'But she didn't do it" went on the young
lady, triumphantly, "'cause Ora Leslie
'jected to it."
mother-his Amy! There was no longer
any doubt of it. And she objected? Quite
right, too, in this case, he thought, al
though Directing was one of Mrs. Leslie's
strong points. On general principles she
usually did object to almost everything
cept the sound of her own voice. 1t W.
IllS udDlU VI uGIS, ne IGIu6luDGIGuJ WuICA
had brought on his quarrel with Amy. He
wondered if she still held the fort. ''Does
she live with you now?" he asked
mo" was the solemn answer, "she amt
Twin anywhere now, cause she's nangel."
If Corson had any doubts as to Mrs. Les
lies angelage he wisely said nothing.
can my papa's went away, too" con-
tinued the young lady, $50 I'm 'fraid he's
roma IN ba q vapma1 jlopr, Lor
Corson was not imaginative in the least,
but here was a whole life romance opened
before him like book Amy married, wild
owed and in dire poverty He had never
sought wealth for wealth's sake; but for
once he felt glow of keen delight in the
thought that he was rich man. Perhaps
well, Amy should have friend indeed, if
nothing more.
care we mos homer" queried Miss Cor
man.
"I guess so. Are you cold?"
''No, thank you. I'm very comf'a able now,
an you're beautiful man to carry me so
nice"
Corson's "beauty" was not of the prize
winning variety, but children often see bet
ter than their elders.
An empty cab appeared through the snow
cloud, and Corson hailed the driver. The
Germans? Yes, he knew the address.
Corson paid the driver literally, told him
not to wait, and then climbed out gently
with his little charge, who was sleeping
soundly. The storm, meanwhile, had grown
wilder with the night, and Corson staggered
blindly up the steps, paying scant heed to
the surroundings. His arrival had been OBJ
served, however, by some one in the house,
and, before he could ring, the door flew open,
ushering him into wide, brilliantly lighted
hall, where he was quickly surrounded by
a number of people in various conditions
of mind, from wonder to Mysteries. Little
Miss German was pounced upon, tatters and
all, and passed to the arms of a fair-faced,
richly gowned woman, who smothered her
with kisses, laughed, cried, and asked ques-
tions all in breath. Then, pausing and
looking closely at the bewildered Corson,
she exclaimed: "Why, if it isn't Jack"
Yes, it was "Jack," who, after moment
of dumb amazement, gasped:
"Amy! Why, l thought you were-that
is"
owe were going to have tableaux," she
hurried to explain, "and Amy was to be
a beggar child. We dressed her in this cos
tune, but she ran away and-oh, Paul.
to an excited gentleman who entered at this
moment-"we have found our darling Mr..
Corson picked her up on the street and
brought her home. My husband, Mr.. Cor
SON."
AS Corson plowed his way through the
snow to his hotel, he communed with him
Al