The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1913-12-06

the water had leaked through one
day. the foot of the bed looming
In the black aperture of the little
aicove. Night after night that
scene. it's Insignificant details al
ways the same!
One evening. the monotony Of
their existence was broken in a
startling way. There was a rum
BILE and crash on the staircase, a
clatter of feet. a woman's screams.
Every one rushed into the halls.
A glass-eutter who lived with
his wife and three small children
across the hall-a great brute of
a man who spent his money on
liquor as he earned 1t and every
Saturday night appeared before
his family reeling - had come
home drunk. slipped on the last
staircase and fallen down 1t.
The ambulance surgeon, in q
white suit, came skipping upstairs
and examined him. The fellows
back was broken. The surgeon
called up his driver, who appeared
with stretcher. And Bertha with
shock of amazement, recognized
In this tall, bony, blue-coated man
the youth who, In the glassware de-
partment. used to run back and
forth between tables and store
rooms He looked up, saw her
standing on the stairs a yard from
him. and gaped at her as IL petri-
fled.
You live here7"
so you've left the store"
six months ago. And your"
still there"
On his way downstairs, holding
one end of the stretcher. he still
kept gaping up at her In bewilder-
ment.
Three evenings later he met her
at the door of the sflat-house,
stammering that it was his might
off,
II thought perhaps you'd go to
a shown"
George returned to the flat on
his next night out. After that he
presented himself at every oppor-
tunity. He took Bertha some
times to the theater, sometimes to
an Italian table dhote." There
seemed to be little doubt of his in
tentions, and the mother from be-
hind her blue spectacles watched
the progress of his courtship with
suppressed excitement. Late one
night, when he had brought Bertha
back to her door, in an agitated.
half-coherent speech, he asked her
to marry him.
Il know I'm not good enough
for you! But ever since first
saw you in the basement"
Watching him with intent eyes,
deliberately she compared him to
the figures In her dreams. She
thought: I'VE should never be diff
ferent. 1t would always be just
this" Clinging to her old visions,
her own unreasonable hopes, she
told him the truth: she did not love
him. He stood still for a while;
then his eyes filled with tears, and,
turning at last, he walked away.
She went upstairs to the window
facing east and stared out over the
housetops.
Weeks afterward, when her moth
er. unable longer to contain her
self, asked what had become of
George. Bertha said calmly:
II refused him.
For a moment the mother sat
motionless, Behind her blue spec
tacles she seemed disguised, and
Bertha. looking at her, had for
the first time in her life an In
sensation of antag-
onism. At length. in a low, trem-
bling voice, the mother exclaimed:
80 that's what you've doner And
after . moment. rising to leave the
room, added in weak accents: "Td
hoped things might be little diff
ferent some time before I died. ri
thought maybe deserved it--at
least for q little while"
Next morning. with wide eyes. |
Bertha saw the dawn creep
the window, ana that dayl
she telsphoned to the hospital
where George had worked. He
was gone; she could obtain no In
of him.