The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1907-08-01
LIFE IN NY
ONLY ROOM
BY a Lodger.

small, and because / thought that by
hanging red-a dark red-curtain
in front of the bed it would make an
ideal bed sitting room.
| Also l liked the red and gold paper
on the walls. The original wall pa
per, learned afterward, was like tho
pattern on a servant girls print dress,
but a former tenant, with fine sense
Of the artistic, had caused tho walls
| to be repapered. So, when Mrs. Mar
| boy, withdrawing one of her hands
| from the folds Of her apron and wav-
ing 1t around the room in Snowman.
like fashion, said the charge was $3.50
a week, without electric light"
closed with her, and the room was
mine.
You climbed up three flights Of
stairs, each flight narrower and less
carpeted than the other (the last
flight sunk to the depths Of oiloleth) /.
and then you fell against the door Of
the room. When you knew the geo.
graphy of the staircase, however, yeu
steadied yourself on the top stair. and
stretched out your hand. BY long
practice the door handle met your
hand. But even then the room resent
ed your intrusion.
The door handle battles many Wis
itors., 1t is by this time aware Of my
touch, for 1t always yields without .
murmur to the known pressure Of
my hand. With the stranger or the
casual caller 1t Isl different l hear the
step outside, andsthen see the handle
gravely nsdding its head, and saying
at the same time, in determined
squeak, mo, you dont!"
In such ceases / remove my feet
from the bureau and take my pipe
from my mouth, and call out, Pull
the door toward yourself gently and
turn the handle suddenly" l have
several times thought of avoiding this
trouble by pinning the formula on the
door. But there are objections to
that. I think it would be unfair to the
door handle, and even if l did pin the
notice there, it is so dark that nobody
would be able to read it.
Also there are occasionally people
who try the door, and when repulsed
by the invincible handle conclude that
l have gone out and locked the room.
Then hear their steps 60 carefully
down the narrow staircase, echotng
fainter and fainter, and If am in the
middle of Omar Khayyam smile
gratefully at the door handle. Oh! we
are old friends.
The love that bear to my little red
room Is pity-born. If you are a de-
formed man, or a one-legged beggar,
passion into copper or silver, accord
ing to your purse or your pity. But a
deformed room! How better show
your sympathy than by ignoring its
deformities and living in 1t regardless
of its defects, and treating it as II it
were normal room? When Mrs.
Marboy first showed me the room it
seemed SO empty and sad that / took
pity on it. 1t seemed to be yearning
for an inhabitant (the widow looked
vacantly at me and said so), and who
am l that should withstand the
human appeal Of a room in house
in Waverly place-Waverly place, one
Of the old-time fashionable sections Of
tho city?
pretend not to notice the terrible
deformity Of my room; nevertheless,
when l bump my head inadvertently
against the ceiling, which slopes to-
ward the window, I am forcibly re-
minded that my room Is not as other
rooms. Three walls Of it are tall and
upright, as walls should be, but the
fourth wall-the one which is graced
by window-was dwarfed in its
youth and stands sadly small, quite
four feet shorter than its brothers.
When ! am sitting here late 1t seems
to me that the little wall looks visit
fully up to its bigger brothers, won.
dering why 1t was born 50 small, and
dreaming, perhaps, Of taller days
when it shall push tho slanting cell
ing into horizontal position and be
more worthy of the name Of wall"
The ceiling of my room is lined
with age. When l stare up at 1t from
my bed it reminds me Of the maps at
school l can see big rivers, with
their little tributaries branching OF
from either side. Some people might
object to the cracks in the ceiling, but
it keeps my geography from getting
rusty. The rugged crack stretching
from the door to the washstand l have
named the river Amazon and the Del
aware reaches from the window to the
back of the bureau. Now and again
a new crack appears on the ceiling,
and l feel like Columbus. For every
new crack l discover a new river