Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1905-11-04
LUCKY MEME.

mldh. was sort OF OBJECT lesson OF
cheerfulness and content. From seven
till six every day he sat cross-legged
on bench Ia little cubby-hole par.
titioned off from Heinzman's clothing
establishment cutting down garments
that were too large and cunningly
inserting strips of cloth where they
were too small He was alteration
man.
From seven TIL six ii was snip and
stitch, snip and stitch, with his back
10 the small panes of the widow,
which were whitewashed as substi-
tute for frosted glass. Nothing to look
at when the stitching did not require
his attention but the sour yisage of
Ike Cohen, the presser, and the dingy
and fly-spotted fashion plates on the
opposite wall, breathing a stuffy at
mosphere of shoddy accentuated by
the steam clouds that arose from lke's
iron, listening to Ike's dolorous COM
plants all day.
But then" said Meme" 1T amt
all sittin' still with your legs cramped
up under you. / get a chance to
stretch EN- wunst in awhile an that
makes pleasant change. And how
good the air does taste when you
get outside! There's folks I've heard
Kick about the air around here, but
] tell you | enjoy every breath of it
when ] get it.
You're ground down into der dust
md you don't know i'd" growled Ike.
What is life for you und for me-?
Doll md sweat, doll und sweat, und
for What? For choost bread to geep
der souls in our bodies, while der gabi
talist-"
Don't be too blamed hard on the
capitalist, Ike laughed Meme =
Pm capitalist myself. l don't live
ON Just bread either | get butter or
mine an Irish stew an pork an &
steak once in awhile, an ! put lit
Tie money by at that"
"Ill know where to gone when
want g hoondert or SO" sneered the
presser.
Amy time you want a little cash
come to me an I'll fix you out, key, y
said Meme" Il didn't say a hun
dred amt got quite that far along
yet; but | expec' to If | live long
enough"
How mooch hat you got!'
Clost on to $50"
Cohen grunted where do you geeh
id?' he asked.
IN my trunk, replied Meme"
Den you dake my tip" said Cohen.
still sneering Bring id down und
pud I'd in der bank Id ain'd safe to
have sooch a sum. Somebody will
bragg into dat drunk und den where
viii you be-"
Where | was eight years ago when
first began to put by, said Meme,
and began to whistle as he worked.
That $50 should by rights have been
the 500 he spoke of or even more,
but Meme" had claims upon mis-
wealth. Any distress was a claim
upon MIN. So it was that he had
worked hard and lived hard and his
sfgnt years of hard labor and self
denial had brought him only $50 at
the end. Even that hurt his con-
science at times. He would never
have kept that, had it not been for
his feverish ambition some day to
open Up little tailor shop somewhere
in the country Meme" never spoke
OF that ambition, but it had become
the dream of his life.
Ike's caution worried him Suppose
she were robbed! Suppose some sneak
thief in line boarding house should so
through HIS trunk and steal the tailor
shop IN the country! He tried to dis
miss the thought, but it required to
him again and again. The bank idea
struck him as rather sensible He
knew good bank, or rather, he
knew the porter who cleaned the win
dows That porter looked like an
honest man. And then the bank had
been doing business for Is years to-
''Neme's" knowledge. He thought il
over and decided to open an account
with the institution. So the next
morning he took the small roll of bills
from the trunk and put it in his in
side coat pocket.
on mis- way to work-in the car or
on the street-that $50 disappeared.
There's no use cryin' over spilled
milk" said Meme" to himself, when
he realized his loss IF it's gone, it's
gone"
He had to pass the bank and as he
did so he saw the porter coming from
the opposite direction and-well, the
smile came hard and something rose
in his throat and choked him.
Hello, 'Neme!'" said the porter
How yah keepin' yoself?' His white
teeth flashed out of his extensive grin
Somehow that grin seemed to con
sole Meme" immensely, but he was
thoughtful at his bench that day and
his whistle died away quickly after he
took thought to pipe up.
What's de matter NIT you, 'Neme?' 4"
asked Cohen more than once and with
a real solcitude tnat seemed odd in
hat misanthrope.