Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1915-04-20
Evening Story
AN ANTlQUATED FISHERMAN.
BY Clara Inez Taylor.
Copyright, 1915, by the Mcclure News.
paper Syndicate.

Rose Brent was broken in health and
pocketbook. AS she said to her broth
er, with whom she lived, Pm badly
bent In purse and broken in spirit. The
games too fast for me here, Ned
Her brother looked thoughtful He
and his sister had boarded in adtoin-
ing hall rooms ever since they came to
the metropolis nine years ago from the
little fisher village where they were
brought up. Ned had clerkship that
gave him his own bread and butter.
and little for his sister when she had
none Of her own.
Roses salary in the Office where she
pounded typewriter, not very expert
ly, had been cut to a mere pittance.
She was In an exhausted condition at
the end Of the long winter, and she
longed desperately for sight of the
old sandy beach and the tumbling
waves Of her native Connecticut town
If were man I'd go back and
earn my living as fisherman. I'd get
health and few pennies and chase all
the cobwebs from my poor brain, Ned,
she said
That If is as big as all your other
ifs Rose said Ned, not very SYM
pathetically.
Roses eyes sparkled for an instant
as If with their last lingering bit Of
fire. There shan't be an ST. she
cried. 'Tll do it, anyway. What have
to lose? And-oh, l shall gain so
Her brother thought she had taken
leave Of her senses when she unfold.
ed her newly conceived plan unfold
ca 1t to him even as it took root in her
own mind.
I'll write to you but you must not
write to me-" she told Ned three days
later when she had resigned from her
badly paid position and was bidding
her brother farewell at the train.
All right, sis. You can't get into
much trouble up in that motheaten
town | won't worry If you keep me
posted. But-be careful of storms sis
Remember our dad Ned kissed her
goodbye In Indifferent brotherly fash.
ion and the train pulled out.
When Rose Brent appeared in her
native village she arrived on foot from
the neighboring town and she was
dressed IN the guise Of an antiuuated
fisherman. Always clever at any sort
Of makeup, Rose had secured gar.
ments resembling those worn by any
old native fisherman along the shore
She had successfully made a hump in
her back, disguised herself completely
by clever application of brown grease
paints and large dropping fisherman
hat.
II shall have to pose as an oddly
however she told herself as she ar.
ranged details Of her stay in the town.
II dare not speak with folk nor look
at them closely for fear they'll see un-
der my hat or detect some buoyancy In
my movements.
She got possession of an old fishing
boat, got tackle, bait and everything
necessary. She had been brought up
among the old fishermen they had
been her playmates as a child. There
fore fishing and fisherfoll1 ways were
second nature to her. She knew the
spots where the fish ran; she knew
where to market her goods, and she
was possessed of the spirit Of the ad-
venture. The big blue trousers and the
enveloping yellow oilskin coat she
wore were old but they fitted into her
makeup wonderfully.
Day after day she came from the
little room she had rented from an
old woman whom she had known in
her childhood days. The old woman