Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1903-02-06
STURDY M'QUiNN

dim In the ears of Sturdy Nc
Quinn. Not that 1t had stopped.
but the buzzing In his ears made it
seem far away
The wonderful, almost human type
setting machine at which he sat, was
motionless. awaiting the lightning
touch of his fingers. So is the great
Daily born each day to live and die.
before the setting of the sun.
The clamor of the newsboys outside
meant that 1t was almost II, time for
the first edition. They had finished
their crap game and were jabbering In
many keys and tongues. A motley
crew, indeed, like none since the Tower
of Babel.
Sturdy heaved a sigh of relief as he
finished the last word of a long col
umn, for the click of the keys made
him nervous, for the first time In the
many years he had been sitting at the
same machine
He had done his work faithfully, but
listlessly, for week past. Yes, 1t was
may seem when you must watch each
dawn.
The foreman noticed this change and
wondered. Sturdy had been his right
hand man through many years of
nerye-racking work, never missing a
day, and always willing to share the
burden Of his overwrought chief.
There was something so reassuring
about this big mans calm voice; the
echo of self-rellant and resource
full nature.
No one dreamed of associating senti-
ment with the homely, quiet type
setter, but Sturdy was In love.
In love. as only a man of his shy, re-
served temperament can be; with a
served temperament can be; with
sleeping lees Of his heart.
A week had passed since that mis-
cradle night when Mary had told him
they must part. She didn't love him,
and never would, so it wasn't right
for them to see each other any more.
They were sitting on bench In the
park. How well he remembered every
detail. The purr of the summer breeze
in the trees. the stray curl that brushed
his cheek; the dainty hat, and pretty
muslin dress, and Mary's voice. almost
sob, as she laid her hand on his
broad, strong shoulder, and asked him
to forgive her for making him so I'M
happy.
Was there any one else, he had ask
ed? No, 1t was only her duty to him,
for whom she cared so much, but not
quite enough. Sturdy had taken the
blow silently, as all brave men meet
fate, but Mary had to almost lead him
home, for this crumbling of tenderiy
cherished hopes had made the trees
dance and the walk evade him. They
said goodbye at the gate, just as they
had done many times 81 week for two
years.
Not that night, nor the. next. did
Sturdy realize It was to be for always,
and that the little house he had Sc
cretly picked out dreamed about and
worked for would never be home"
for home meant only a place where
Mary would be waiting for him when
the day was over.
He bore the first two days patiently,
with n sort of numb resolution, but
could stand 1t no longer. The third
evening he stole up and hid in the
shadow OF some trees opposite her
house, feeling like thief, but thief
who steals because he Is hungry.
He had not long to wait before Mary
crossed the street. almost at his elbow,
but did not notice the silent figure un-
der the shadow of the trees.
She stopped a moment to say good
bye to girl friend. then went in and
quietly closed the door. Just then a
man passed, looked keenly at the 81
lent watcher, as If interested In his
study OF the little house opposite.
The dull routine of the days work
did little to tighten Sturdy's burden.
The buzZing In his head grew worse
and the whir of the machinery harder
to bear. His nerves were overweight
from lack of sleep. Another day was
almost done. hard. trying day. and
il was a relief 10 go home and be quiet.
The air tubes belched forth their last
batch OF matter generally "ads"
which came in late. and appear under
the head of TOO Late to Classify"
Busy looking little boys ran In all
directions. handing each man a few
scribbled sheets. Sturdy absent1y took
his share and began to play the keys
before him.
rERSONAL-Win young lady In
white dress. black hat who parted