Year: 1876

ton or wnatE w as IL &ame-Was IL.


sit was a number on a door," said
the old gentleman. swat a minute
III tell you all about it,"


81 was very much in love. Every
one is at some time of his life. Al
twenty-five 1 was desperate. Talk about
Romeol He was nothing compared
with me.


"I'm not ashamed of it. She was a
worthy object. Not only because she
was beautiful, but she was good and
amiable, and such singer! She sang
soprano in the church choir. And I've
heard strangers whisper to each other,
is there really an angel up there?'
when she sang her part alone, clear,
and sweet and flute-like her voice was.
I've never heard its equal.


"well, loved her, and thought she
liked me, but wasn't sure. courted her
q good while, but she was as shy as
any bird, and couldn't satisfy myself
as to her feelings. So made up my
mind to ask and know for certain.
Some old poet says:


He either fears his fate too much,


Or his deserts are small,


Who fear to put it to the touch,


And win or lose it all


'I agreed with him, and one even
ing, as walked home from little par
ty where We had met, with her on my
arm, stopped under great willow
tree and took her hand in mine and
said:


Jessie, love you better than my
life-will you marry me!


waited for an answer.


She gave none.


JESSIE" l said, won't you speak
to me?'


'No-oh dear MOP


81 offered her my arm again, and
took her home without another word
She did not speak either. She had told
me before that she would start with
the dawn on a visit to an aunt in New
York; but / did not even say good bye
at the door. / bowed; that was all.
Then, when she was out Of sight, and 1
stood alone in the village street, felt
desperate enough to kill myself.


"What had / done to have such a
cold refusal? Why should she scorn
me so? ooh, dear, no. grew furious
as repeated the words.


"Yet it stung me all the same. l
tossed from side to side of my bed at
night and thought that could endure
it no longer. But / would not pain
or disgrace my respectable relatives by
committing suicide in the place where
they dwelt and were well-known and
thought of! l would 60 to New York
even then a very large city-and,
seeking some hotel, register an assumed
name, and, retiring at night with a
bottle of laudanum and a brace Of pis-
tolls, awake no more, and so be rid of
my misery. 1 arranged my affairs to
the best of my ability, and received an
imaginary letter from friend in New
York, requesting my presence on
matter of business. i burdened myself
with no unnecessary luggage. What
did an unknown suicide want of an
other coat and change Of linen.


81 kissed my mother and sister and
startled my grandmother by an embrace
and started upon what mentally called
my last journey, with determined
spirit.


"There was a certain hotel to which
many of the people of our village were
in the habit of going. This 1 avoided.
Another chosen at hazard, seemed to
be better. Tbither / walked determined
to leave no trace of my destination to
those who knew memo clue to my in
IDENTIFY to those who should find me
dead.


81 had no mark on my clothing, nc
card, paper, or letter with me. As as
cended the hotel steps felt so to speak
like one going to his own funeral.


"a grinning water bowed before me
A pert clerk lifted up his head and
stared. / was an ordinary traveller te
them-that was evident.


at was late in the evening The
place wore an air of repose. Laughter
and a faint clink of glasses in an inner
room told of some conviviality. Ons
old man read his newspaper before the
fire. Nothing else was astir.


81 asked for a room. The clerk nod
ded.


DO YOU care what floor p he asked


'I shook my head.


"Number twenty-nine is empty ht
said, and he tossed the key to the waiter
whom followed at once.


"We reached the room by two flights
of stairs. At the door the waiter paused


Thought he said twenty-nine,' ht
muttered. The key is twenty-one.'


"'Then open twenty one with it,
said. Il don't care for the number o.
the room.'


"'No, sir-to be sure, SIR said the
] waiter, and passed along few step
further.


'Twenty-one,' he said, and unlock
ing the door he pushed it open.


go Shall bring you anything sir h
said.


81 answered No. and he left me
having put candle on my bureau.


''The hour had come. As l shut tn
door a heavy sigh escaped me. Alas
that life had become so woeful thint
to me that should desire to become rid
of it.


"In the dim light Of my own candle
I paced the floor, and thought bitterl,
of the girl loved so dearly.


cit was in the days Of curtained beds
The bed in this room was hung will
dark chintz; so were the windows
Over the bureau hung looking glass
with portrait of a lady in pufiet
sleeves and high comb, at the top, b!
way of ornament. There were fou
stuffed chairs. and a brass shovel ant
tongs stood guard over the CRATE.