davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

But in spite Of them Tim could not help letting his thoughts dwell upon what he would have done with the money had he taken it. He became disinclined for conversation and re- sented his wife'9 efforts to distract his attention from the subject.
 If it were not Abbey JOhnson's money, Tim, I would not care so much" broke from her lips one morn ing when Tim had been more than usually trying.
 Who said anything about Abbey Johnson's money" demanded Tim.
 Nobody" retorted his wife sharp ly, 'but you might just as well as to be thinking about it all the time. You don't love me, or you wouldn't care anything about it."
 Don't love you! Good Lord, Myra, haven't I given up $50,0OO for your sake? What better proof do you want than that?"
 ''I want you to give up all thought of 1t, Tim. The thing is spelling our lives. You are not at all as you used to be, just because you are always thinking of that nancy"
 That's right" cried Tim bitteYly. She had come too near the truth in her remarks to bear with patience. That's right, Myra! It isn't every man that would give up what 1 have for a woman"
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

of self-reproach, eff ever I do get on my feet you shan't take Q needle in yuHr hands,"
 Don't I know it." cried Myra. smiling at him bravely. My, but won't l put on airs when the dress makeru say: Leg O mutton or ell bow sleeves? Which shall 1t be, Ms Gates? They're both stylish
 Why couldn't Abbey have left me that money deceptly?" e.aculated Tim with irritation, ignoring his wife's pitiful attempt at gayety. "Of all the conditions that were ever invented this is the worst"
 Myra Gates paled and look of dread fleshed into cher eyes.
 Tim" she cried pleadingly, "don' t think about it. Promise me that you won't think Of it.''
 Whats the use of thinking of it2" growled Tim.
 Then promise you won't. Please, Tim"
 Well, I won't then" promised Tim.
 But he did. Day and night the thought of the money never left him. Harassed by debt and worried by the lack of employment, S5O,OOO seemed to him unlimited wealth
 "Why couldn't Abbey have left it to me unconditiOnally? he exclaim- ed for the hurdredth time. "She
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30
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Rather" observed MT. Brown, dryly. "A woman seldom forgtves a thing of that kind"
 Abbey has, remarked Tim in sat isfied tones. Although she told My ra that she would get even with her somehow. It's a sort of heaping cOals of fire on our heads. isn't it?''
 "Not exactly, Tim. You see, there is a condition attached to the leg acy."
 "Oh, of course" remarked Tim. There always is, isn't there? 1t will be a mighty hard one if I cant meet it. Out with it."
 Tim" The lawyer decked an imaginary fly from his horses Hanks. Abbey left you that S5O,OOO on the condition that you leave your wife absolutely"
 What shouted Tim. "Leave my wife? What do you mean?"
 Don't get excited, Tim. Remem-' Der, l am not responsible for the va garies of a woman. l have the will with me, and you can read 1t for yourself"
 He handed the refns to Tim, then drew from the inner pocket of his coat a document which he unfoldcd deliberately.
 Here it is," he said, running his finger down the page to the final par agraphs. You see for yourself"
 And fUrther,' read Tim, 'I do hereby give and bequeath to Timo- thy Gates the sum of $50, 600 in cash, to use in such manner as he shall see 1 fit, on the condition that he shall leave his wife - formerly AIy-a Thornton aSsolutely; she having no part or parcel in such money. But if Timothy Gates remarries, then he may share with his second wife, or with their children, if there be issue to such marriage, the foregoing S5O,- 900.
 And further, if, after mature de- liberation, the said Timothy Gates ! refuses to comply with the said con- diuon. then is the aforementioned s50,OOO to be given to a charity here matter to be named"
 The young fellow turned in fury upon the lawyer.
 "Why didn't you tell me before?' he cried savaEcly. What do you mean by tautaIizing me with a glimpse of heaven and then dropping me into hcll2 Eou knew that couldn't meet any such condition! Yon contemptible pettifogger. I've notion to break every bone in your body"
 Calm yourself, boy. It's hard lines, l know. I rpmonstrated with Abbey but it had no effect. You don't have to leave your wife. Still if you de eide to do so-''
 "Tl be hanged if I do.'' roared Tim.
 "I know just how you feel, Tim Any man would feel the same way declared the attorney. In justice to Abbey, however, I must advise that you think the matter over be- fore giving your decision" T want to say right now," inter | posed Tim, his voice thrilling with | passion, that l need no time for | deliberatiOn. I refuse absolutely to give up Myra."
 Well. Tim, I can't blame you. but we'll talk about it later. Go home and think it Over.''
 ''Yes, I'm going home. " Tim swung himself out of the buggy and ] shook his fist wrathfully at the law 1 yer. if I had known what you wanted to tell me I'd never have got into that buggy. For fiendish inge- nuity commend me to 8 woman every i time; and a lawyers not one whit . better"
 You are unjust, boy. but I don't ! blame you" was the attorneys com | maut as he drove away. With an oath, Tim strode angrily
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30
A19SEaz24z&4zEkzzz11a9 43z z1zEzzz19 4 CONFESSION

dear since you came to this house You're going to have time now-a long, beautiful, happy time. Now, just sit down here at this desk and decline some of these formalities for me, while l set Lucy to packing the needfuls.' and Francesca ran from the room.
 The gleeful anticipation of a child possessed her. She was up early next morning that she might order break fast and get Aunt Jennie through her toilet fin time for the o'clock train.
 At that afternoon they reached the little station at Aldrich. They hurried 70 the small, low, yellow house y.1ich Francesca remembered, though she had not seen it since she was a child and had come to it with her father. Silence and musty air met them. Aunt Jennie sat down in a rocking chair, lifted her veil and wiped her eyes.
 "I hope Ellen Town hasn't let the mice get at my quills," was the first thing she said.
 I'm sure she hasn't" Francesca cried cheerfuIly. She ran to the win dow. Here Is Jehu with our traps. Where shall tell him to put them D. You can have your trunk taken up to the front chamber and mine to ] the one adjoining. The one that holds the books and like of that we better unpack down here"
 ''We must have a fre," Francesca said, shivering a little. There's seasoned wood in the shed. We have stoves and wood is what every one burns around here.' "Of course,' Francesca said eager | ly. "Now. while I'm confabbing with Jehu, do, please, dear auntie, make us a nice fire in that shiny kitchen | range"
 "If I had had time to tell Ellen | Town to open the house and get | things ready 1t would have been | p1easanter for you, my dear" she said 1 to Francesca, as they sat down to | their tea.
 Nothing could be pleasanter than | this" Francesca sighed happily
 Next morning she visited the vil- l lage store to make purchases which were necessary until the supplies she had ordered should arrive from the
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30
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an inmate of the yellow house, at- tended by pr. Briggs and watched over by Francesca and her aunt.
 At first he seemed to realize little; then gradually his mind cleared. At last he said to Dr. Briggs: "I have put these kind ladies to much trou- ble. Is there any way in which can recompense them without giving offense?"
 Thanks are all too inadequate, ' Peter said, as he parted with his hostess. "I am sure you understand that I feel so. When I am stronger 1 should like to come again and-and try to express more clearly my grati- tude-" His eyes sought Fran cesca's.
 Certainly you must come again, ,' Aunt Jennie said, but not from any sense Of indebtedness" she added with her sweet smile.
 So Peter came again and again. And in the intervals he sent great boxes of flowers and parcels of the latest books to the ladies.
 The village folk looked on with delight at his love-making. They kept Francesca's secret well. No one ever hinSed to Peter that she was an heiress and he did not suspect it. He remembered Aunt Jennie as a woman of small means. who during his boyhood had lived very quietly in the yellow house. This charming girl, her niece. apparently, was de- pendent upon Ter.
 Spring came and Francesca knew that she must return to the city. Peter had asked her to marry him and she. had accepted him. The day he came to bring her enRa cement ring, she said to him:
 This will be our last meeting here. Aunt Jennie and I are going away"
 Going awayI" he repeated, as- topished.
 We are going back to the city and my own home. Did it ever occur to you that I might have a home of my own?"
 'I never thought" Peter said, "o1 cared after I found that you were willing to let me make one for you, he added tenderly.
 "Oh. Peter, PeterI" Francesca said
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

ehe's smart. I heard him speak once and if I hadn't a-knowed I could never have been made to believe he
 was little red-headed Pete that used ot go round from house to house in
 the spring selling grated horserad- ish."
 Thus began Francesca's life in the yellow house. She tried to forget that she had not always lived among
 the simple village folk. She went to
 church as regularly as the bell rang, taught a class in Sunday school and so made the acquaintance of the boys
 and girls.
 Snow stayed late in that hill re- zion. The boys brought out a pair of bobs and these, laden with merry
 makers, shot the glassy steeps of Lo- cust Hill, gaining an impetus that carried them half the length Of the village. Francesca joined in heart and soul.
 One afternoon Francesca and Jes-
 sic Reid and Johnny Payce rode down hill. A man was crossing the street
 at the foot of the hill. He had a
 dress suit case in. his hand and had evidently just alighted from the train, which was still in sight.
 He did not notice the bob until it
 was almost upon him, with Johnny shrieking like a steam whistle. Then he looked up, sprang to get out of the way, slipped and fell heavily. As soon as the boy could stop he
 did so Francesca was the first to reach the man. He was unconscious.
 They got him upon the bob and
 Francesca and Johnny drew it as fast as they could to the yellow house, while Jessie ran to find pr.
 Briggs. He came immediately, but half a dozen neighbors were before him and had carried the injured man indoors and were doing what they 1 could to restore him to consciousness. Its Peter Shaw" Mrs. Town said | to Francesca in awe-stricken tones.
 But Francesca had already guessed | his identity. Peter came to his senses slowly. He had struck his head in | falling and barely missed a fracture.
 It would be some time before he re- l covered, Dr. Briggs said, and in the l meantime he must not be moved.
 For more than a week Peter was
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30
CLEAN HANDS

after him into the village. Turning into one of the side streets, he soon reached the little twO-rOomed cottage which he called home.
 As he opened the door a woman looked up from her sewing with a casual glance, which changed to one Or apprehension when she caught sight of his face.
 What is it, Tim? What has hap pened?" she asked quickly.
 For answer Tim flung himself into a chair with a groan. His wife threw aside her sewing, came to his side and slipped an arm about his neck.
 Didn't you get the job at Lank- toms, Tim? Never mind, Something will turn up soon, know"
 "Myra!" Tom caught her hands and drew her to him. Abbey John son has left me S5O,0OO in cash if I will leave you"
 For an instant Nyra Gates stared at her husband. and then with a shriek she flung her arms about him.
 Tim! Oh, Tim," she cried, and
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

couldn't take it with her. and if ! could have 1t with a provision I don t see why I couldn't without. What
 wouldn't I give for one months free dom from money care! But 1 won't leave Myra! No; of course I won't" So he brCoded over the matter. Night after night his wife heard him
 muttering as he tossed restlessly, un-
 able to sleep.
 Tim" once she called feaTfully
 ''Wen?'' answered the man.
 You are not thinking of that
 money, are you?''
 "Of course not" replied Tim grossly. Cant you let a fellow sleep in peace?''
 Myra said no more. The money
 was not mentioned again for several days, but Tim knew that his wife 1 knew that he was thinking about it 1 constantly. Her eyes full of appeal ! followed him continually and irri- i tated him by the growing dread in | them as his moods of abstraction be- came more frequent.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

the cottage that had been their home. A light shone from the window of the front room and Tim approached and looked in.
 Myra sat by the table busy with the everlasting sewing. Tins heart contracted w,th a spasm of pain ds he noted how wan and worn she looked and what furrows of care, grief and privatfon had wrought in her face.
 And I have been rolling in plenty" he thoght, with deep self disgust. God! What a brute l am.''
 At this moment his wife let her work fall into her lap, and, putting her hand into the bosom of her dress, she drew forth a little locket which the watcher recognized as the one he | had given her on their wedding days Tim chOked as Myra opened the lock- ct and pressed her lips to the picture it contained.
 My God! l cant stand that" broke from his lips. Il must get out of this!" Anathematizing himself bitterly, he stumbled out of the yard Fool! bolt! Idiot!' he cried il anguish. 'I must have been mad to give up a love like that. Oh, if only l | could do it all over again; but it
 
 it too late? No, by heavens, no! It l is not too late to be man, and that's | what I'm going to be- Why, Timothy Gates" calculated | Lawyer Brown as Tim broke in upon | him. What brings you here? Do l you want some more mOney?"
 ''No," answered Tim, T don't Not now, nor ever again. I'm going to | be a man.
 osyI-ba+ do ,,o,, r,,oo-, r-i,, o,, ,-1r5 | the attorney gravely.
 "I mean" said Tim, that I've had enough of that accursed money. I don't want any more of it, and I'll | pay back every cent that I've used.
 But, Tim, it will be my duty to turn the money over to charity"
 That is where it should have gone in the first place." cried Tim.
 "You really mean this, Tim? Re- member, there will be no further op- pOrtunity to change"
 With all my soul I mean it," cried Tim with fervor. "I was mad to dream that l could give up Myra, but lack of work will drive a man to
 almost anything"
 "I have been hoping for this, Tim. I am proud of yOu," said the attorney, grasping his hand. You won't re- gret this; but what about work?"
 "I can get it in the city," answered Tim.
 , And your wife?" Look after her a little won't you
 MT. Brown" Tim's voice was hFsly "It's a poor sort of man that must l ask that of another, but I cannot SC ) to her until I am worthy" ' ''Ill do it, Tim. Don't be gone tol t long"
 t "Tll come back as soon as I can, 2 answered Tim. "Goodby!"
 A year later Timothy Gates again 2 approached the little cottage where = his wife lived. As before, Myra sat $ by the table sewing. A flush of joy . swept over her face as her husband t entered the room, and she started tc - her feet.
 Tim" she breathed, with an in. - voluntary gesture toward him. ? 'T have come back, Myra," be said l simply. will you try me again?"
 But the money?" cried Myra 5 hoarseiy. The money is between us No, thank God!" said Tim fer 5 vently. T never touched it after the t first few months, and I've paid back
 every cent that l used them. I've come back with clean hands, Myra t Will you take me now?" l With a sobbing cry his wife sparng s 10 him. and Tim's arms closed about 3 her with love and thanksgiving.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

were pinched and drawn.
 Where had gone the beauty that had made Myra Thornton the belle of the village? Where? He had de- stroyed 1t himself by the hardships he had thrust upon her.
 He grOaned and bowed his head upon his hands in deep self-abase- ment. What a failure he was, and yet he had tried hard not to be. Life had been full of promise when he had led Myra to the altar five years before.
 Things had gone all right at first, and then had come his illness. That had swallowed up their savings, and then - he gTOaned again as he thought Of his fruitless endeavors to get steady work. Unable to bear the sight of his dejection, his wife went to him again.
 Don't take 1t so to heart, Tim 2 she said, laying her hands on his shoulders. Everything will come all 1 right sOon."
 ] ''Myra!" exclaimed Tim, in agony
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30
How 1t Hannened

"How's this?' remarked the tall office boy with the newspaper. Here is, where an educated monkey ran a sewing machine"
 "Aw, that's nothing" sneered the short office boy. "Yesterday I saw a mouse run a typewriter"
 Come off! What are you giving me? Where did this happon?'
 Right in the old mans office. The mouse came from under the desk and made for the pretty typewriter and she's running yet"
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

She was limb, that Bells, Lut she married one of the incest r1en you ever saw
 And there was a boy Peter. He had red hair. We began to make a snow man once, but father took me away before it was finished"
 That boy" Mrs. Town said, twas Peter Shaw. He got some schooling, land knows how, and studied law. ~ He's a senator now and next thing they say he'u be in Congress. My,
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

 you speak to me. MT. Brown?"
 "Yes; jump in, Tim. I want to have talk with you. That is, if you have the time"
 "Time?" echoed Timothy Gates. climbing into the seat by the law yer's side. "I have more of that than anything else. l wish l hadn't What wouldn't I give to have good job once more!"
 The attorney gave him a keen glance.
 Things have not gone very well with you, have they?" he observed. "No; they haven't" burst from Tim, teusely. And, what's more, they don't seem liable to go any bet ter. l don't believe that I've had more than ten weeks of steady work since my sickness two years ago. If it wasn't for Nyra's taking fin sewing we'd starve,'
 But you are among friends and neighbors. I don't understand how such a state of things come to pass, l really did not know that it was sd bad"
 There isn't work enough in this village for two carpenters" explained Tim bitterly. Ed. Gilmore slipped in and got the work while I was sick so I am out of 1t. Lordy! I wish was out of it altOgetheri'
 Tim, what would you say if I were to tell you that someone had left you S5O,OOO?"
 MT. Browne" cried Tim, turning upon the lawyer hercely. "I am ir no mood for jollying."
 "I am not joking, boy. I am in dead earnest Abbey Johnson has 1,rN n In In- vrrF1
 Abbey JOhusOn-left me-S5O,- OGO," gasped the young man, staring at him in blank amabcmeut.
 Yes: she never got over her fancy for you, 1t seems
 "But-but-oh.y you can't mean r. MT. Browu2" Tim pressed his hand to his brow dazedly. Tt can't be true?"
 Tt is true" said the lawyer briskly. "COme, boy, don't be so in. Credulous."
 Have you got it down in blacE and white?' demanded the young man.
 q have. will show 1t to you presently"
 Thank God." Tim drew a deep sobbing breath and covered his face with his hands. Pretty soon ht looked up.
 Don't think me hard-hearted, MT Brown. I'm not rejoicing at Abbey's death, but-S5O, O,OO0! You don't know what it means to me-"
 'I can gueess, Tom; buts-"
 "I wonder what Mvra will say broke in Tim. excitedly. Abbey wouldn't speak to her after our mar riage Myra thought that she nevcr got over 1t, but this proves that sh, did. Poor Abbey"
 "You were rather devoted to he, for time, weren't you, Tim?"
 ''Well yes, admitted Tim, sheep ishly "Foits thought that I wa going to marry her. and I reckon would have if Myra hadn't come or a syisit 10 her aunt. When she cam l forgot about Abbey. and went cleaI daft over Nvra. But it was kind o rought on Abbey"
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

rest" she thought "I'm tired of people and-platitudes. I'm even tired of myself. l haven't had a chance to be alone and do exactly as l pleased since I was @ little girl. I want to read and think and get ac- quainted with myself and Aunt Jeu- nie instead of dressing four times a day. Poor Aunt Jennie! For four years she has played the role of chaperone beautifully. Tn any other capacity of service she might demand 0 vacation"
 There was a rap at the door, fol- lowed by the entrance of an elderly woman with blue eyes that had never lost their childish directness of gaze. She carried a bowl of pansies.
 "A box of them just came from my little place in the country" she said. q divided with you"
 What beautiful velvety things!" Francesca cried. She rose and bent her face over the flowers. And they still have their country freshness! I didn't know that your place grew pansies, auntie."
 "Oh, yes: there is a great bed of them. Ellen Town looks after 1t in my absence. She gathered these and sent them. Twas hungry for them. Those we have from the florists don't seem the same"
 Francesca turned the pansy in her fingers. "Auntie." she said at last. "let's leave everything here and 60 and live in your house this winter. Let's run away"
 "Francesca, dear child" began Aunt Jennie faintly. Francesca in- terrupted her.
 q am your dear child, indeed, only you've never had time to find how
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

.half laughing, half crying. And then she made her confession. Peter lis- tened without word, but his amaze ment was visible upon his face.
 You gave up your kingdom" he exclaimed finally, ito come down here and play the little country girl!'
 "I was tired of my kingdom" Francesca said, softly. "It is dreary work ruling alone and there was no one I cared to have rule with me until I found you!" she ended, tri- umphantly.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30
In 1915.

Suddenly the great game in the summer of 1915 stopped.
 Whats the trouble?" shouted tho grand stand. Let the game go on
 Make them play!" thundered the bleachers. Soak the umpire!''
 Just then the manager came out and held up his hand.
 Patience, gentlemen, patienceI The game will go on just as soon as the fly cops can chase that fleet of airships from over the diamond. Those on them are catching tha balls as fast as they are batted uEward"
 And then the fly cops began to fly from every direction
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

toast and something eatable baked up for you.''
 We didn't know about 1t our selves till the day before yesterday" Francesca explained, laughing.
 There followed a great flying of tongues. Aunt Jennie had many questions to ask and Ellen Town much to tell. Francesca, listening, suddenly realized how dear to her aunt were these people.
 Mrs. Town" she said, "I have
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30
Happy Thought.

Miss Askitt-When one sends a parcel by express why do they always ask the name and address of the send CT?
 Percy Pinkleigh - Why-er-so they'll know where to weturn 1t in case 1t is-er-lost or stolen. donchsr know. ---.---
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

city. When she returned to the yellow house she found Ellen Town there with a basket laden with homemade bread, a loaf cake, a jar of pickles and a great bowl of cottage cheese.
 ''Why didn't you let me know you were coming she chided Aunt Jen- nie. "I'd a-had the house warm as
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-30

been trying to recall things that wer quite familiar to me when I used to come here with nay father. There was a girl I played with. Her name was Belle and she had black eyes. Do you know what became of her?''
 You mean Belle Chase, I guess. She's married and lives out West.