Perth Amboy evening news., 1906-03-31
HIS BOARDING
HOUSE GIRL.

did o ever call on a girl who
lived in a boarding house? Never?
Try it. The curiosity of folks who live
in some of these houses may not ac-
tually keep them awake o'nights. but
III bet a hat, it makes some of them
toss a lot in their sleep" observed the
man who beginning to think the
matrimonial situation over.
Say, | think that at the boarding
house where I'm making occasional
calls this curious cult has got them
all skinned.
"The-er-young lady, when | get
there, is, of course, always dressing,
and will be down in a few minutes. |
am invariably told this by the grin
ming girl who comes padding down
The han TO let me in at the door.
Then she sidesteps with me to the
parlor.
ITS always dark there. The light
in the daytime would fade the paper
flowers draped like an emblem of
mourning owe the chandelier. Gas
bills run so high, don't you know, that
there is only a flicker of the jet at
night. Not a bad idea at some stages
OF the evening. by the way. AS | am
shown tremendously into this musty
smelling place, a black and tan ter
rier that looks to be old enough to
have rubbed against George Washing.
toms silk stockings, snuffS at the bot
tom of my trOusers and begins 10
squeak at me. When | try to push
away the nuisance with one of my
feet-swiftly propelled-a very old
lady in a black silk dress and a white
i'll haven't noticed her before
through the Enthusiastically picks
the snarling dog up, scowls tiercely at
me, mumbles something about men
being worse than dogs and swishes
painfully upstairs, carrying the yelp-
ing bow-wow with her.
Maybe it is her husband-I don't
know-but then an aged man in ii
green skull cap and Tapping blue and
red carpet slippers oven white socks,
with his long broadcloth Goa buttoned
tightly around him, gropes his way
into the room. Not being able to sea
me. he butts into me and emits a
senile Shrek of alarm. Then recog-
nizing me as a male person who has
been there several times to call upon
/. npa ,f tho yDpnU Wnn1n1 o1tpGts nf rho
house, he grins and leers at me and
reckons it is going to urn colder, and
expects that she'll be down Directly.
It's none of his business whether she
will or not, because she isn't even dis
family connected with him. When |
fail to encourage him in conversation
he slides out, grinning back on M as
if he considered | was making II
kinds of an ass of myself.
Don't think it. My troubles are
only beginning. | know in what or
der they come, so | try to prepare my
self. A woman who still dresses like
they did at the close of the war-wig
held by a net, some crinoline beneath
her green satin skirt and with old red
chorus girl rouge on her cheeks to
give her a hectic flushy Camille effect,
hurries into the parlor from the dark
dining | can't help but imagine
her joints creak as she cOyly enters.
OF course. she has a great deal of
business in the parlor. She looks me
over with care out of the corners of
her eyes, pretends she is greatly inter
ested in the advertisements of a ten
months-old magazine and then swish
es upstairs. Az she goes she casts
back at me a sort of contemptuous and
vituperative glance AS much as to say
| look as though i should know better
than go around calling on young
ladies who have not yet reached the
age of sense or discretion.
This o%yerdone curiosity extends
even to the animals OF the place. A
blind maltese cat totters over my way.
investigates me. rubs himself or her
self against my trousers for awhile,
leaving enough blush gray hair on
them to stuff a pillow, and then ambles
out into the hall. probably to tell the
rest of them that Miss Blanks beau,
who has got to calling on her so fire.
quently, is waiting in the parlor.
Then the Second Floor Front, a
wedged faced lady with IA voice like IA
hand lathe needing oil. hurries down
the stairs demanding to know at ev-
cry step, What's become of them
towels, Id just like to know?' She sees
me in the parlor, %slances at me with
an accusing air, shifts, and then turns
and goes back up the stairs saying
something audible about people that
has the nerve to want to keep the par
lor of a public boarding house to their
selves all the time Just as though
she didn't come down in the first place
for the sole purpose of rubbering.
The Fourth Floor Back, a superan-
nuated suds artist, a clerk OF 40 years
standing, never gets home for dinner,
but always arrives promptly at eight
o'clock, and, perceiving me in the