The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1919-03-04
Removed the Cartridges.

lean, and Bessie had seemed to care
for him until Bob Heathman began to
stay in Marshville.
Bob spent his engineers wage reck-
lessly ON the bonbons, flowers, plays
and auto rides that Bessie loved, and
Pierre had to save money each month
to put back In the trade and to add
to the little sum toward the home he
had planned to buy for her ever since
he'd first seen her In the little Cath
ole church in the town.
But now, every time he ventured
ttmidly to ask her to go out with him,
she had ian engagement with Rob
ert Heathman," or Terry Thatcher,
at the telephone exchange.
But the little demoiselles going TO
school would be along directly with
their pennies for apples; one could
not neglect ones business even though
the heart were breaking. Pierre got
up and rearranged his shelves and
counters. At noon dozen girls from
the laundry on Magnolia street poured
In the little ship, demanding grapes
and bananas. There was another fruit
shop just across the street from the
laundry building, but Tony Ferraro
was middle-aged and married. Pierre
was neither, and in addition possessed
a handsome face, very fine eyes and
the most delightful manners.
Mrs. Adelaide Mercer, the richest
and proudest lady on Maple avenue,
who bought her baskets of fruit from
the young Frenchman, was not accord
ed more Difference or courtesy than
Molly Semms, the homeliest of the
laundry girls, when she bought her
daily five cents worth.
The girls fingered and chartered as
they went out.
isn't he handsome?" he heard the
red-haired one saying. 'Do you think
he's as good looking as Bob Heathman,
Lou?'
"a hundred times better looking"
the dark girl answered positively,
dllQ u lAAOuSdnd luOlG DODle.
he'd only take notice. Say, Nan, I
believe Bob Heathman's going to mar
ry that pretty Bessie he's going with 7"
"Goshi" cried Nan. Don't tell me
you believe that. 1 had a few hopes
that way myselfw
After the girls disappeared up the
street Pierre sat very still, stupidity
staring at nothing. He did not want
to live if Bessie, his Babette, became
Heathruan's wife.
A tarantula hidden in a bunch of
bananas had bitten him the summer
before. A customer had discovered
him lying in a faint. He'd called for
help and a doctor, and they'd revived
him and found and killed the giant
spider.
Pierre wished that they had let him
! die. He had meant to write In the
fall to his old cousin in France, Barbe
Piardet, his nearest relative, that he
was married to the good French girl
she'd told him to marry, rather than
an American, who might also be q
good girl, but who would not have
any memories of La Patrie.
But now he'd nothing of happiness
TO write to good old Barbe. When IL
was dusk and there were no more Gus
toners he shut the shop and took out
of the drawer the little revolver
Bayne Carly, the towns chief Of po
lice, had persuaded him he ought tC
keep in the little shop.
He brought it back in his tiny bed
room and laid it down on his pillow
One shot and his heart would cease
its awful ache. Surely the Bon Diet
would pardon-would pardon.
1t was hot night, he had CLOSED
only the screen door and his cat was
clawing at this. He opened the dool
to let the cat in. The morning daily
he had forgotten lay on the steps. HI
learned English that way. He opened
and read it now.
"War in Europel Germany to figh
France-Belgium invaded" read tn,
headlines. Further details of that evi
advance stared up at him.
France-la belle France-invade'
by the old enemyl The paper droppe'
to the floor. Pierre sprang to his feet
He seized the little revolver and re
moved the cartridges.
Forgive me, mon Dieul" he cried
There is no happiness but there i
need for service"