The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1913-11-25
MEDDLESOME OLD MAN
BY poRorHEA THOMPSON

AAONCNCI that 10, AdQ hudCh Vi
copying to nicely any signatures or
addresses that | picked up. l used to
do it for the fun of the thing. but
never, even in school-boy crises when
note from home would have worked
wonders with a hard-hearted teacher,
did use the gift to my own ends. Be-
yond, that is, making the boys eyes
pop at the way could reproduce their
crude boyish signatures or the more
flowing and flowery ones of the teach
ers. I'm an old man now, and com
fortably enough off, but what l have
dered, sometimes, whether the accom-
plishment was still at my fingers
ends, butt still Isl
Next to my little four-room bache-
Tor apartment is its twin, a rear fat;
and not so many months ago it was
taken by two girls-gentle and we'll
bred, or I'm no judge of character
The older of the two l had no love
fora quiet, dark girl, too sober by
far for her years. But the young onei
l could hear her singing through the
paper-thin walls of the cheap nat,
and l grew to distinguish her voice in
the indistinct murmur when they
were talking. She was as full of
songs and thrills and sheer light-heart-
edness as a bird
The first time l saw her l thought
to myself that she deserved better
than to be cooped up in a four-room
fiat with sister who would probably
be just as happy without her. But
there l was mistaken Her sister
adored her. However, l discovered
before long that l was not alone in my
opinion of her deserts. and many is
the time I've heard her laughing voice
in the hall answered by a masculine
one, and not always the same one, at
that
But she had her favorite. l could
hear the note of real welcome In her
voice for one of them-a fine lad, as
deserving Of her as ever a man was
of woman Tall and strong and
well-born, her choice was easily my
choice, too. l used to pass them in
the hall often on their way to some
merry-making, and she had ever
bright nod and word for me- And
then, when they came back, manys
the time I've caught the note of ten
derness in her voice as she said good
night to him at the door, And ne
adored her-one look at him when
they were together would have told
that.
In the snatches of their conversa-
ton l got as they passed through the
halls-anything said in the halls was
common property to all four f1ats-I
learned several things about them.
thy between them, understanding that
was surprising, considering their
youth. Another was that each of
them had not little pride, which,
but for the love between them, might
have caused trouble of no common
sort
Going through the halls one day 1
found scrap of paper, a note, folded
In half, but with no address on it. l
opened and read it rather shamefaced-
ly. 1t was in French, and said that
the writer had gone out, would be
back in an hour, and please to wait.
Then little sentence of affection
that old as l am made my heart beat
faster in sympathy. 1t was signed
Mercy" and Mercy was the name of
my young favorite. l turned it over,
and saw, what had escaped me before,
that it had three initials on the out
side-B. L. G. / remembered a SEN
tence of laughing remonstrance once
why, Bert Carter!" Undoubtedly
she had tucked the note behind her
mail-box for him to find if he came
over Unexpectedly. l put it back
guiltily Bless the babes! Did they
think that no one else in the city
spoke French? Still, reviewed our
fellow fiat-dwellers, and decided that
save for me they would have been
safe.
In winter came a time when my lit
scarletina, her sister said-told me
through the door Really nothing at
all dangerous, only too contagious to
allow her sister to go to and from
her school-teaching, or even through
the halls. So l got into the habit of
bringing up their mail to them, and
every morning there was a letter for
Miss Mercy Judson in the same hand
writing. / was rather interested in
that handwriting; if | had been I'M
able to class the boy before that writ
ing of his would have helped me. 1t
was unadorned, and rather smaller
than the average masculine hand
writing. but it carried with it a sense
of absolute reliability. Foolish, per-
haps, but l have always thought that
my gift carries with it the ability to
read character in writing.
When Mercy recovered the spring
came on as if by signal. heard the
boys voice again in the halls, and met
them going in and out again, as happy
and over-joyed as if she had come
back from the brink of the grave to
him. The sewing machine was busy
those days. could tell by the whir
it made-and once when l brought up
a letter that someone had dropped
Mercy came running to the door with
her hands filed with fluffy white stuff
l felt as happy, and yet as bereaved,
as if she were my own daughter and
was quite as it should be though, and
I hoped fervently that they'd be as
happy as they deserved
Then in April something happened.
I heard them at the door one night,
and listened deliberately for the
Good night. Bert, dear" that always
came. But this time l was disap-
pointed. Instead, heard the boy say
with feigned cheerfulness:
Good night. Miss Judson." and her
answering Good night, Mr.. Carter"
l didn't like that 1t sounded seri-
Gus beneath the banter Then the
boy said soberly,
BE sure I'll come when you send
for me, Mercy"
And Mercy answered with gentle
stubbornness, I'll never write till
hear from you, Bert" and the door
closed slowly.
Bert didn't know, as 1 did, that she
stood waiting at the door instead Of
hurrying down the long passageway;
waited till the clatter of Bert's feet
on the stairs and the slam of the door
proved to her that Bert had really