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THE REFORM OF JEREMY GARBLE.
-TALES OF TEN TRAVELERS"* SERIES.
By EDGAR L. WAKEMAN.
(Copyright. 1894, by Edgar|L Wakeman. All rights reserved.)
Jeremy Garble, editor and owner of a
great metropolitan journal, had just re
turned to his native city from an extended
foreign tour. He had dined with the
German Emperor, had been received by
the President of France, had been given
audience by his holiness, the pope, and
had been permitted to erect a great me
morial window in an ancient and historic
abbey.
Preceded by press dispatches, his for
eign journey had partaken somewhat of
the nature of a continuous ovation. Nat
urally, when coming back to the imme
diate neighborhood of every day business
rivalries, his individuality dwindled to
the meesure of an ordinary human unit
cf progress. This had an unpleasant
influence upon him.
The ledgers in his counting room showed
tremendous profits: the puzzle depart
ment, the guessing department, the gift
book department, the art supplement de
partment, the circulation certification de
partment, and all the other modern ba
zaar departments of one of the greatest
dailies on earth were in healthful and
prosperous development; while the thun
derings of added presses testified to his
constantly increasing wealth and power.
Within his little kingdom his hundreds
of employers were more oose<|uious than
ever. His great newspaper structure had
itself received several additional stories
during his absence. Its dome was now
the loftiest in the city. Everything that
his eye rested upon in his mammoth es
tablishment was the greatest, the finest,
the costliest, and the most superb known
to journalistic development in ail the
world.
But Jeremy Garble had received noth
ing bordering on an ovation on his arrival
home A few financial promoters had
waylaid him and attempted to ply him
with cheap wine. An agent or two of
mild forms of lotteries were ready to
present schemes in connection with news
paper circulation. Cunning politicians
submitted plots for the rearrangement of
existing parties. Eleemosynary institu
tions favored him with suggestions for in
creasing their own usefulness through
the means of his journal's cooperation.
And various fairs, festivals and mission
ary boards had postponed active opera
tions for public plunder until he could be
personally consulted and utilized.
All of this nettled him. He should have
remained away longer, or not have gone
at all. His entire environment seemed
sadly changed or his introspective view
had been badly deranged.
One of his old political editors, Rich
ard Northup. coming suddenly out of his
room, met him in the hallway, and with
unaffected old-time cordiality, grasped his
hand warmly, and. being himself a trifle
deaf, shouted lustily:
“Why, hello. Jerry 1 God bless you,
old man, I‘m right glad to see you back
again!”
At which familiarity. Jeremy Gar
ble frowed and said:
“How do you do to-day, Mr. Northup,”
rather coldly.
His old employe dropped his band, hast
ened on, turned and regarded his superior
for a moment, in a hurt sort of way, but
toned his coat about his stooping shoulders
and disappeared with a dubious shake of
his head.
Jeremy Garble saw the action, or
enough of it to sting him deeply in the
mood which possessed him. “Old
Northup," he reflected, “must know how
I have been received abroad. He could
have at least shown me a little deference.
That is the thanks one gets for keeping
men in their place beyond their useful
ness!”
This, it may be observed, is often the
view men of success take of those who
have passed their entire lives loyally con
tributing to that success.
A little further on he halted at the
room of the obituary editor. Mr. Melanc
thon Mold. “Old Mortality" he was
called by the entire force, and he had a
chipper way of buffeting any forgivable
office badinage with, “Wait until I have a
call for your envelope, sir!" meaning that
it is always well to conciliate the obituary
editor of a great newspaper.
"I hear the governor’s just back,” said
nn assistant cheerily. “Now, Mr. Mold,
! suppose you'll do something really hand
some for the governor when he croaks?”
Mr. Mold was about depositing some
clippings in one of the thousands of envel
ope boxes, containing data and incidents
of the lives of all personages of any pub
lic consequence, or who were likely to be
come so. ranged about the walls of the
room He turned to the speaker, ad
justed his spectacles, cleared his throat
and gesturing airily with the pile of clip
pings in his hand, returned jocularly.
The governor! Well. I should think
ao! A full page to his early struggles; at
least one to his editorial and Anisincss
triumps; another to his association with
the great: four to his public munificences;
and.” here Mr. Mold lowered his vioce
and cautiously glanced into the hallway,
“three lines to his private generosities!”
His precautionary glance had not been
quick enough
“Mr. Mold,” remarked Jeremy Garble
quietly, “you may call at the cashier s
desk as you leave from home this even
ing.”
The old man was very white and the
boxes swam before his eyes, but he
faltered to the voice he heard and the
form he could not see:
“Very well. sir. I truly beg your
pardon. 1 should not have said, even in
jest, what I did: though it seems that mv
estimate of necessary space for the
chronicle of your private generosities was
not far amiss!”
But Jeremy Garble had passed on. That
unaccountable impulse of human nature
to visit upon the weak the fancied re
venges we cannot effect upon those of
equal strength at least momentarily
possessed him. It filled him with especial
indignation and resentment when he saw
an old Argand lamp burning on the desk
of the “second-column” editor, Luke ltad
dles.
Mr. Raddles was not at that moment
occupying ti dignified position for an edi
tor, and this further inflamed Mr. Gar
ble s irritated spirit, lie was tilted far
back in his chair. One foot laid upon the
desk in dangerous proximity to the Ar
gand lamp. His head, held in his hands,
rested on his chair back, his eyes were
closed, and he was smoking iiis dear old
corn-cob pipe. This was Mr. Raddles’
favorite posture for ruminative thought.
It had brought thousands of forceful,
timely and exquisite creations into being
for the columns of Jerem.v Garble’s jour
nal ; but the very recollection of this was
goading to the editor and owner.
“Mr. Raddles, isn't the electric light
good enough for you?” he inquired in an
injured tone.
“Too good ; far too good. Don’t want
it -Oh. is that you. Mr. Garble? Bless
me. but I'm glad to see you home.
ten years younger, Jere, old bov. Come
in; do.”
“Mr. Raddles. I wish that lamp re
moved from this building at once.”
“You don't mean it? Why, Jere, I’ve
worked under it over twenty years. Xlad
it when we started - back there in the
little old office, you know. Sort of re
minder of tiie good old days. Jere.”
Raddles rubbed his eyes as if he had
lost faith in them : looked in amazement
at his old companion and friend, who was
standing frowningly at his door; shook
himself out of his chair upon his feet in
alarm and stammered,
"Jere Mr. Garble, I mean—is there
anything wrong about my work! lam
afraid I am in the way here."
“Did you hear my remark about that
lamp. Mr. Raddles!”
“Certainly. That’s all right. Out she
goes, Jere!”
With this the light was turned down,
the lamp wrapped in one of the exchanges,
when Mr. Raddles got together his other
belongings and left his desk, where he had
toiled for half a lifetime, with a sick and
weary heart.
Now Jeremy Garble was not a tyrant by
nature, but his self consequence had been
stung and wounded, its speedy, unfore
seen and unpleasant results gave him as
deep a pang as those whom he had
wronged; but the action of the human
mind being almost universally one of self
justification, there was but one course for
a great editor and owner to pursue.
“1 have begun reform here,” he re
marked curtly to his managing editor,
when alone with the latter a few minutes
later. “There arc certain elderly parties
who have been with me so long that they
have become irrascible. garrulous.l might
say, impertinent. Success without dis
cipline is imjiossible. Now I wish you to
immediately fill the places of Mold, Rad
dles and Northup. Mold and Raddles are
already out. Notify Northup that his
services will not be required after the end
of the month.'’
“Their places can’t be filled, sir.”
“Can’t be filled?”
“No. They are three invaluable men.
1 can get men at their places; but not in
them.”
“Very weli. Get men at their places at
once, then. Good night."
The managing editor saw his chief to
the door in a perplexed, worried way: re
turned to his scat and scanned his list of
“emergency possibles" discouragedly;
closed his desk, with ft bang and the ex
clamation. “It can't be done!” and, after
anxiously looking from his window for a
time upon the myriad of flaring city
lights, gave a hopefully joyous whistle of
relief.
“There’s only one way out of this.
That's by the female route! There's just
one person who can help me—that level
headed daughter of Garble's. 1 believe
she really thinks more of those three old
antediluvians than all the rest of the
force: and Jeremy Garble thinks more of
her than of his own immortal soul!”
Any one who couL. cave observed Mr.
Garble's manner to his daughter as he
arrived at his home that c .euiag could
not but have heartily concurred with the
wise managing editor in his comforting
conclusion.
She instantly noticed the settled frown
in his face and brought him at once to the
little half-Moorish, court-like conserva
tory she had herself planned and had con
structed off Mr. Garble's library, where
there wore fountains, vines and a wealth
of flowers; a sweet and soothing place in
color and sound for a great editor or any
other human annoyed by those constant
discoveries in life, that each degree of at
tained power brings increased responsi
bility for its considerate and gentle use.
Mr. Garble’s arm encircled his daugh
ters waist, while one of her hands held
his and her other hand, thrown about his
neck, tenderly patted his face and head.
He looked into her face with pride and a
peculiar eagerness of affection, implying a
mute appeal for especial sympathy ; for
we are always most miserable when most,
conscious of injustice and wrong to
others.
"Grace. 1 feel wretchedly to-night.”
They had come to the little court. Mr.
Garble, stretched himself upon a low
divan and his daughter, nestling down be
side him, began affectionately stroking
his throbbing head.
“Oh, we’ll soon have all this pain away,
father;” he answered gently and com
fbrtingly. “Hope there's no trouble at
the office?”
"Oh, nothing unusual. Just a little re
form necessary down there, Grace.”
“You see, father, while you were away
Mr. Thurber—Mr. Thurber was Mr. Gar
ble's managing editor—honored me so of
ten with requests for my advice that I
got quite an inkling of editorial responsi
bilities.’' Then with a light laugh and an
arclishakeof herhead: “1 don't like them
at all.”
Here Mr. Garble smiled for the first
time that day, as he said: “Just like
your dead mother, Grace Bless her! I
often used to think she would have been
happier if 1 had failed instead of suc
ceeded in building up a great newspaper
property.”
"I believe she would, father Did you
ever think how a good wife's heart is
secretly torn and her very life shortened
front waiting, listening, praying, agoniz
ing, all alone behind the din and fury of
her husband’s battle for some tremendous
achievement ”’
Mr. Garble sat bolt upright as though
he had received a shock.
“Well. Grace, perhaps not; not just that
way. You don’t suppose a husband and
father makes the fight of his life all his
life purely for the selfish pleasure of fight
ing and winning?”
“At first, no: at last, yes."
“What do you mean, Grace?”
“Oh, well. I’m only a woman, and per
haps not capable of seeingil all as it truly
is; but I believe that the man of extraor
dinary success, say like yourself, father,
loses far more than he gains by his great
victories.”
“Tell me in what respect, my fair phil
osopher.”
“In the three respects comprising
nearly the sum total ot human happiness
—home, content and friends!”
At this juncture a servant announced
dinner. Mr. t larble protested that he nad
no appetite. (,race then ordered the meal
served where they were: and they wen
soon seated under the mellowed lights of
the little court, scarcely more than pick
ing at a dainty dinner; each secretly
curious concerning the conditions leading
to the other's manuer and mood.
Grace Garble was a young woman of re
markable physical beauty; almost a
leader of fashion: prominent in a scoreof
charitable enterprises: with unlimited
means at her disposal; and. since her
mother s death five years before, as the
mistress of the Garble mansion, had been
petted and courted by society as few
women find it possible to be. Impulsive
and generous almost to a dangerous de
gree. she still possessed the faculty for
quiet observation and kindly, eompassiou
ato Judgment which had distinguished
her mother; while it was observable that
she was not lacking in her father’s
celerity of action and his unbending de,
termination of character and purpose.
To her great advantage, be it said, this
stern element of her character never
reached tyranny, while iter determina
tion grew out of consideration largely
rather than from unreasoning impulse or
sudden whim. Her father idolized her,
j perhaps u tinge of fear entering this
idolatry: not the fear portentious of real
error, but the hovering dread that her
conscientious judgment might in an un
happy moment proceed with a will as un
yielding as It is own to the point of open
rupture and destruction of the tender re
lations between them.
This foreboding was never so strong on
Jerem.v Garble as this night, when he
had determined on still more sweeping
reform in the various departments of his
great journal, and when he sat there
opposite his daughter and banteringly
drew from her lips her philosophy of
human success.
THE MORNING NEWS: SI N DAY, APRIL 29. 1894
‘•Well," she continued, blushing at her
own boldness, “my idea of a home is a
little home, a comfortable home, a home
where there are many happy faces, and
not merely one or two worried, badgered,
forlorn, calculating, endlessly plotting,
hunted, forced-march faces."
“Rather too many adjectives there.
Grace! We’d have to ‘blue-pencil’ some
of them down at the office.
"But they tell just what I mean, father.
A home is where the husband and father
leaves his haunting horrors behind, when
he enters its doorand is glad of the glad
ness he finds to welcome him. Eight
rooms, not eighty, are enough for such a
home. It should be a nest, not a shell.”
Here she made a little gesture with her
hand. It seemed to comprise the great
Garble mansion, and her father's fore
boding sat still more heavily upon his
mind.
"Then you do not approve of such a
home as I have been able to provide!” he
said with some show of feeling.
“That sort of thing is not altogether un
worthy. It is simply unnecessary. Some
one is always ground down, crowded out.
put aside, harmed, in the process of
palace instead of home building. 1 ’
“That is very fine for your 'firstly,
Grace. I believe your ‘secondly’ was re
garding ‘content’?”
“Precisely; content. Not the content
that makes sluggards; the content that
has blessed joy in blessed little things
fair progress, fair profits, equable, steady
gainings. To apply it to yourself, now,
father. When the circulation of your
paper reached fifty thousand copies", we
lived in that dear little old brick house
the Molds live in now, where the really
only happy hours we all knew were
passed. Mother was alive, although
dragged out with anxiety over your
anxieties, but still hopeful that the day
was near when we could have you with us
more and more. Then, one hundred thou
sand was the mark. Then a great build
ing must be erected. Then—well, mother
is gone; your newspaper circulation is the
largest; your loads are increased, not
lightened; you have very’ great wealth
and power and prestige. Isn’t that pretty
nearly all. father?'’
"Why, Grace I have you!” replied the
great editor with a genuine burst of feel
ing.
“Not altogether, father, There are
other claims, you know, which will in
crease. And besides, deeply as I love you,
filially, 1 find myself liking you less, and
less the greater and richer you become!”
Jeremy Garble looked at his daughter
in utter amazement.
“Now, father dear, don’t be offended!
You would have a just contempt for me
if you thought I hid such things from
you. Every day of your life you are be
coming more irritable, more unreason
able. more unjust.”
“What do you mean, Grace” he asked
almost indignantly.
“That this brings me to m.v ‘thirdly,’
the subject of friends. Few men can
calmly sustain great success. T-is is
largely from the fact that true friends
grow fewer in proportion to one’s increas
ing power. Those whose friendship one
longs to possess, fear that relationship.
Those who seek a powerful man’s friend
ship too often have sinister motives. Be
tween those fearing and those seeking,
such a man becomes the loneliest of mor
tals This moment you haven’t above a
half dozen loyal friends in all the world.
Jeremy Garble s jaw dropped and he
gazed open-mouthed at his daughter.
“It's true, father; sure! Now. you're
not silly enough to believe the German
emperor and the President of France
and the pope received you simply be
cause you were Jeremy Garble! Why,
theymerely recognized your temporary
1 lower. These statesmen, politicians,
schemers, plotters and human various’
of all sorts who make your life miserable
and our home a headquarters for con
spiracy, seek you and fawn over you—
ijgh—to use you.”
• Why, Grace, this is infamous:”
“It surely is; but not as you mean it.”
she continued, straightening up a bit, and
becoming more measured in her speech.
“It is imfamous; infamous that one must
live the little life God gives him with the
very basest side of human nature forever
loathingly thrust in his face! Did you
ever count your real friends, father?”
He fidgeted and shook his head.
“Let me count them for you.” Here
she began numbering ,liem on the pretty
fingers of her left hand. She ran them
over but once. “Yes, that's right! There’s
Uncle Dick Northrup.” Jeremy Garble
gave a tittle start. “There's Luke Rad
dles.” Mr, Garble pushed his chair back
petulently from the table. “There is
dear old father Mold.” The chair this
time took a crashing crounch along the
tiling of the floor. “There’s Mr. Thurber
—yes, 1 think he may be be counted as a
genuine friend. There’s my Bob—Robert
Mold, you known.”
Here Jerem.v Garble rose to his feet as
austere and determined as he had ever
stood upon them in all his life.
“And,” continued Grace, coming back
to her little finger, “there’s Grace Garble,
the most devoted of the lot. That’s all,
father; every one. Just six! Think of
it, father! In all the wide, wide world,
only six human beings who, if you had no
newspaper with two or three hundred
thousand circulation, would fight for you,
divide with you, or give you a place in
your old age to la.v your weary head!’’
Her eyes were glowing as she finished.
Mr. Garble had been walking rapidly back
and forth within the conservatory. He
suddenly stopped, turned, placed his two
hands upon the chair back elinctaingly
and looked at bisdaughteralmost fiercely.
She returned the look with determined,
honest eyes.
■‘Grace, Grace! You are beside your
self!”
“No;” she returned quietly. It is you,
father, who are becoming crazed with a
veritable lust of power!”
“Grace, did you hear me say a little
while ago that I had begun a sweeping re
form at the office!”
Stic slowly nodded herhead.
“Well, young woman, you might as well
know it now as later. I have discharged
Raddles and Mold—the impertinent ras
cals! Old Northup is to go at the end of
the month.”
Grace Garble sprang to her feet trem
bling violently.
"I can see you have never stopped to
count your friends, father!” she at last
replied indignantly. And then slowly
and almost despairingly: “Do you mean
to say that you have cast off these old
men who began life with you, who have
done more than all others for your suc
cess. without generous provision lor their
old age; and you a millionaire!”
“I’m through with them. That is the
end of the matter," he retorted doggedly.
“And you discharged poor old Mr. Mold,
knowing he was the father of the man
who is to be m.v husband!”
"Certainly, Miss. And it will be to
your interest to remember that I have
other plans in that direction also. We
will reform things all along the line while
we are about it, Miss Grace!”
With this Jeremy Garble, editor and
owner, strode savagely out of the con
servatory, donned his hat and coat and
disappeared into the street, indignant
and determined, with such a slam of the
door behind him as brought all the as
tonished servants together in consterna
tion. and set the huge chandeliers a-jing
ling as though the mansion were quiver
ing from the responsive vibrations of jol
lity and good cheer
Grace Garble stood beside the dainty
table lor a moment with heaving breast
and flashing eyes Then, woman like,
sho fell in her chair, buried her face in
her hands and sobbed heart-brokenly.
Soon this was done, when she arose with
a sigh; looked about the conservatory
with an affectionate gaze of parting ten
derness ; hastened to her own apartment:
changed her attire; and. after few hasty
prepa rations, ordered a carriage and was
driven rapidly away; leaving the great
Garble mansion, save for the whisper-
ings of the servants, as silent as a gor
geous tomb.
Mr. Garble returned within an hour's
time no less determined than ever upon
reform. As he entered his door the subtle
consciousness of the silence of his home
instantly oppressed him He stepped to
the conservatory, but his daughter was
not there. Even all traces of the meal
had disappeared. He wandered about
the spacious rooms for a little time, and
finally ascended the stairs. He listened
at the door of his daughter's apartment.
He heard no sound within and became
alarmed. Then he knocked, careful that
the sound should be sufficiently familiar
and friendly and yet contain a nice
shading of assertiveness and authority.
Receiving no answer lie at last pushed
open the door. A single glance told him
the story of his daughter's flight
He caught once or twice at the balus
trade for support as he descended the
stairs, and remembered that but once be
fore had there seemed so little left in his
whole life horizon. That was years ago
when an open hearse had stood before his
door.
“O, I cannot bear this!” lie groaned as
he staggered into the library. "James.'’
he faltered, as the butler came in answer
to his bell, "did you see Grace when she
left the house! We had a few words—a
few unpleasant words. James.”
"Oh. yes sir. Very sorry, sir. She re
marked on leaving with her parcels and
trunks, sir, as she’d had a thorough un
derstanding with you. sir!”
He ordered his carriage. It was at the
door in a very short time, but it seemed
the dreariest waiting of his life. He
gave his coachman an almost incoherent
order, entered the vehicle and hastily de
parted. Men and women who were pass
ing at the moment caught a glimpse of
the famous editor as he stepped into his
carriage, and, looking up to the splendid
mansion above them, envied him his
wealth, his power and the almost prince
ly sumptuousness of his abode.
Over in the older quarter of the city,
where little, quaint, old brick houses had
never crowded each other so closely as to
banish the cheeriness of genuine homes,
dwelt Mr. Melancthon Mold, obituary ed
itor. with his sweet, little, old, white
haired wife and their fine, robust, hope
ful son. Robert Mold, architect, draughts
man and constructing engineer.
Their pretty little habitation was
hooded over with dormer windows sur
mounted by huge old chimneys, covered
with creepers and vines, and most curious
indeed of interior arrangement, partly
from the fanciful changes wrought by the
Garbles before they had left the place
for their great mansion, and again, from
the pleasant whims of its present occu
pants; for long companionship and symp
athetic vocations had drawn into this
kindly family circle Jeremy Garble's
“second column” editor, Mr. Luke Rad
dles, widower, ana his veteran political
editor, Mr. Richard Northup, bachelor at
large.
An entire floor of the old structure had
thus become one of the coziest living
rooms eyes ever beheld. Little bay win
dows extended to the right and left,
broken by curious alcoves; so that at the
rear Robert Mold had his work-room,
study and fireplace; at one side Mr. Rad
dles had his sunny window, desk and
shelves of books; almost opposite, old
Mr. Northup was ensconced in a similar
snuggery, while a fireplace filled an angle
between them: a little further to the
front Mr. Mold had what Grace Garble
called “the cunningest sanotom in all the
world,” with a pretty, tiny-paned win
dow opening to the rear: and at the front
of the room was another fireplace with
several ancient easy chairs comfortably
disposed. where Mrs. Mold, of an even
ing, sat beside her purring cat and knit
or mended, now and then looking up from
her work over her gold-rimmed spectacles
with a radiant smile upon the different
members of her happy home.
()n this night, when misfortune had
come so swiftly- to the older men of the
household, there was still an air of grim
and independent cheeriness within the
cozy room. Mrs. Mold sat beside her hus
band, holding his faithful hand in hers.
Air. Raddles reclined in his usual posture
Before his desk, which that evening had
received the accession of a quaint old
Argand lamp. Mr. Northup had just fin
ished reading a note, delivered by mes
senger but a few moments before: and
Robert Mold had not returned from his
down town office, where he had secret
hopes of gaining an award on his plans
for the construction of some important
public edifice.
“Upon my soul," exclaimed old Mr.
Northup loudly, as he tossed the letter to
Raddles, “we are all in the same boat.”
"You don't mean it. Northup?”
“There it is. Thurber put it as kindly
as he could, and 1 thank him for it; but
Garble must be entirely out of his head.
Why, its unaccountable— —”
“Contemptible!” echoed Luke Raddles,
tossing the letter of notification back to
his friend.
"Outrageous!'’ groaned old Mr. Mold
: ndignantiy. “If I had the writing of
mat man’s obituary to-night, he'd not
even got three lines: not even one. Gne
word would tell the whole story—‘ln
grate’!”
“There, then. Melancthon! ’ crooned
his little old wife soothingly. ‘ Remem
ber, dear, everything can t goon the same
way forever. We’ve got our home. We’ve
got our good friends here. We've
got our Bob. And when Bob and Grace
are married—"
“Tut. tut! Do you suppose, wife, old
Garble’U ever give up that girl to such as
us, now? Never!”
“Never!" echoed old Mr. Northup, dol
orously.
"I should say ’never’ several times!'’
added Luke Raddles, laconically, without
changing his position in front of the Ar
gand lamp.t
At this consensus of forceful male
opinion, poor Mrs. Mold began to sob, but
was interrupted by an impetuous knock
at the door. In an instant more Grace
Garble burst into the room, her cheeks
glowing with excitement, her arms full of
parcels and her tongue running on at a
great rate to her companion, who was
staggering beneath the weight of a huge
trunk and two cumbrous portmanteaus.
“Bob disappeared instantly, and Grace,
dragging the bewildered Mr. Northup and
Mr. Raddles to where the old couple sat
with an imperious, “stand right there,
now!” threw herself across old Mr.
Mold’s chair-arm, ana with one arm en
circling his shriveled neck, rapturously
produced a Little book, opened it, and be
gan:
“Tell me the truth, now, every one of
you! We’ve all been thrown out of em
ployment. you know. Mr. Northup, have
you saved anything—honest, now!”
“Oh. yes, Miss oarble, I could live a
few years without work,” the old man
replied proudly.
"And you, Raddles?”
"Put me down for the same assign
ment,” he answered with a grave smile
■•Here, briug everything right in hare.
Don’t leave a single article in the hall
way. Get the other trunks, quick, now,
driver!" and then dropping everything
from her arms in a confused heap in a
corner, she rushed to Mrs. Mold, nearly
suffocated her with embraces and kisses;
held Melancthon Mold in his seat uutil
he fairly squirmed from her caresses:
grasped old Mr. Northup and whirled
him around and around until lie gasped
from sheer dizziness: pulled Mr. Luke
Raddles away from his Argand lamp and
set him a-whirling in company with
Richard Northup; and, with a triumph
ant. "We're alt discharged together!'’
proceeded to pounce ui>on them all with
such opisterous rallyings and almost hys
teric peals of laughter as the four be
wildered old folk had never before heard
in all their mortal lives: all just as
Robert Mold eatne bounding into the room,
so filled with gladness over his own
triumph that he could not for a mo
ment comprehend the unusual commotion
1 within, and could only cry out;
‘•l've got it!—got it. sure! Here's the
award—mother, father. Grace ! It’s all
right, now, Grace. We won t have to wait
that dreary year.”
Upon which Miss Grace Garble herself
became temporarily the victim of encir
cling enthusiasm, from which she disen
gaged herself to command in mock stern
ness: "Wait a year, Robert Mold! We il
not wait an hour! If you don't get a cler
gyman inside this bouse within ten min
utes. I ll never become your wife at all!”
• Right across the street—city mission
ary You know where he lives, Robert?”
exclaimed little old Mrs. Mold, between
her laughter and tears.
“Good! Father and mother Mold, has
Bob got a single penny?”
"Nothinsr but his prospects, Grace!”
answered the old lady sadly.
“And you, father Alold, have you saved
anything?”
“Oh, yes, my dear, a little; a little.”
“Good again! Now we”U hear from
Grace Garble J”
She had brought such a rattling and
merry storm into the quaint old place that
there were no ears to listen for entering
footsteps. But a man had stolen within
the room. He stool against the door
frame, regarding the pretty picture of the
four silvered heads bentclose to the beau
tiful girl; and he was one who at that mo
ment would have given one of the greatest
newspapers on earth, building and all. to
have been in Melanctnon Mold's chair
and felt about his own neck the warmth
of that fair arm. which bobbed up and
down so recklessly, disarranging the few
white locks which straggled from the
base of Melancthon Mold’s shining pate.
“Grace Garble, being duly sworn,”
here she flourished her bank book trium
phantly, “deposeth and saith: That, for
the past five years, more or less, she has
occupied the position of housekeeper at
the Garble mansion; that in that capacity
there has oeen paid to her by Jeremy
Garble the sum ot' SIO,OOO annually, for
household and personal expenses; that
by dint of economy and good manage
ment she has contrived to save
the large amount of $3,500, or
thereabout, for each and every year
of the said live years; that at .this mo
ment she stands possessed in her own
right of the some of seventeen thousand,
four hundred and eighty-three dollars;
and that every penny of said sum shall be
used for the joint sustenance, so long as
it may last, of father and mother Mold,
of Richard Northup, of Luke Raddles,
unjustly deprived of their means of sup
port, and of Mr. Robert Mold, architect,
providing the latter gets back to the Mold
domicile accompanied by a clergyman
within the limit of time prescribed—”
"Make it an even hundred thousand,
Grace, and let your old father in on a
small annuity!” came in quavering tones
from the figure inside the doorway.
"The group were upon their feet in an
instant, startled, indignant, defiant.
“1 mean it, Grace,” returned Jeremy
Garble solemnly. “I have been really
counting my friends within the last hour, 1
while .endeavoring to discover your
whereabouts. 1 hope—forgive me, all of
you—they are nearly all in this blessed
old room!”
"Father! f ’’er! I cannot bear this
great happin cried Grace, springing
into his outsti .ched arms.
“Oh, yes, you can, Grace. You’ll grow
used to it. 1 will, too! Tell Bob and the
clergyman.” the two had just entered the
hallway, “to call some more carriages
and we ll all go back to the house to
gether. It’s early yet. We’ll have a
quiet little wedding supper right where
that unhappy dinner was served; and—
and with it we’ll begin a genuine re
form.”
It was as Jeremy Garble, editor and
owner, had said. Five silvery heads are
at the Garble mansion still; and the next
morning, when four of them came to their
accustomed desks, one bearing an ancient
Argand lamp, the managing editor rubbed
his hands together merrily and began his
arduous tasks of the day with the com
forting reflection.
"My confidence in Jerem.v Garble's
level-headed daughter was not altogether
misplaced.”
OUR REAL FRIENDS,
That Bright Little Woman Bab Dwells
on the Value of Loyal Friendship.
Pleasant Callers With Thoughtful
Gifts—The Little One's Innocent
Greeting—Contentment in the Home
Circle—Woman s Influence For Good
Over Man—“l'm Feedin a Man, Not
a Dude”—A Sweetheart’s Reformed
Lover Being Neighborly Keeps
Men and Women Good and Kind.
New York, April 28.—1f it is a little
hard to be ill, there is one question solved
during a protracted illness, and that is,
who one’s friends are. It takes more than
a mere curious interest to induce people
to come and see you when you are a
wreck, when you are inclined to be cross,
and when you are not quite as interesting
as you might be. Six weeks of seclusion
in my chamber have proved to me who the
people are who really love me for myself,
and who like me for themselves. The
other day I had two visitors who received
a royal welcome—indeed, I doubt if roy
alty ever got such a welcome. I say two
visitors, because I really couldn’t count
the third as belonging to this world, it
was so dainty, and so white, and so
flower-like, it seemed as if it must belong
to a land where the breezes were always
soft and warm, where t he flowers bloomed
all the year around, and where no lan
guage was spoken except that understood
by the birds, the blossoms and the babies.
BAB HAS AX EXTEKTAINER.
My visitors sent in no cards- they ap
peared. They were Magpie and Mis’
Connolly, and the present that the stork
brought to Maggie two months ago. 1
never saw such a baby. It did nothing
but laugh and make those cooing sounds
that from a baby’s lips mean ”1 love you.”
No baby who lived in a great mansion and
who represented many millions eomoared
with that one. Its dainty little clothes
had all been made by Maggie, and with
the poetry peculiar to her people she said:
"1 touldu t let a machine stitch a seam. I
was afraid it would hurt the little blos
som.” And so Maggie’s baby, like that
one belonging to the millionaire, had its
little frocks sewed by hand, but each
stich In the Blossom's clothes repre
sentcd so much love, while each oue
in the rich baby’s only meant so much
money.
Mis’ Connolly had brought me several
presents. l< irst, there was a bottle of
medicine warranted to cure me at once;
then there was a charm certain to bring
good luck, which had been gotten from
the Chinese laundrymaD, and last of all
there was a mezauzu, which had come
from mv little Jewish friend, and which
put against the door, would keep out the
evil spirits. Maggie brought the baoy
and that was enough. She laid it in ray
arms and it laughed until the fox terrier
wagged his tail with delight. And then
Maggie told me the news of the day. She
was a little flurried over something that
had just happened.
AN* IRISH WOMAN’S STOUT.
She said: “Well, Miss, I was sittin’
sewin’, for a little while because it wasn’t
time for my man to come in, and every
thing was ready for his dinner, when
there was a knock at the door. i called
out to come in. and a ladv walked in At
least, Miss, she looked like a lady, and
yet I don't think she could have been
one, for a real lady wouldn't do what she
did. She had a paper in her hand, and
she told me right away that she had been
appointed to go among the poor and get
the women to sign the bill that would
give them all a vote. Well, that made
me mad. so I said;'You’ve come into the
wrong place if you’re lookin' for the
poor: I ain't poor. My man makes
enough to keep me. and I've got a com
fortable home and more blessings than
most people.’ She kind of flushed up and
then she went on and said: ‘Do you
know what the vote will do for you?’
And says I: ‘No; what will it?’ Well,’she
said, ‘it will let you go out in the world
to earn your own living, you’ll have
your own money; you can do as you
please and you can send people to con
gress to represent you and your opin
ions.’ Then I did laugh. Miss. And I
answered her pretty quick, for 1 was
vexed. Says I: -I had quite enough of
goiu' out into the world and earnin' my
own livin' before I was lucky enough to
marry a good mau who takes care of
me. I know what goin' out in the world
to work means, and I’m thinkin’ you
don't else, you wouldn’t speak of it so
glibly. I know what it means to take
care of yourself, and I advise every girl
I know to get a husband to do it for her
as soon as she can. As for havin' my
own money, why 1 have that now. My
man brings in his wages every week,
and after we’ve laid aside what we’ve
got to live on and allowed a little bit to
go in each of our pockets, the rest goes
in the bank and in my name. And as
to doin’as I please! Why ma'am, my
*Jimmy lets me do as I like except when he
sees I'm wrong, and then he tells me why,
and I ain’t such a fool as not to know the
difference between right and wrong. I
don’t want anybody to represent me in
congress; I've got something to represent
me on earth and in heaven; and. Miss, X
just took the baby out of her cradle and
showed what a real treasure was.
, SHE TOSSED HER HEAD UP
and says she: ‘My good woman, when
you have the vote, you'll see the folly of
having children, and you won’t talk all
this nonsense about heaven. Y'ou will
be educated beyond all that.’
“X h ugged the baby closer because I was
afraid I would say something I’d be very
sorry for. and I’m mightily- afeard I
wasn't altogether polite, for says 1: ‘You
are a beast to talk about the folly of bein’
a mother. You're not a woman, for you
havn’t got the first feelin’ of decency, and
I want to tell you. you had better not go
around savin’ things to the Irish women,
else someone of them will knock you over
the head. How dare you, you who are a
perfect stranger to me, come here talkin’
about things that only concern my hus
band and me? I’ve got as good a right to
come into your house and ask you some
sensible questions. I could ask you why
you don’t know how to make a home,
and you wouldn't have sense enough to
know that it was because you were too in
decent to bear children for your husband ;
that you lived with him for your bread
• and butter, but that you weren’t a wife,
’cause you shirked a wife’s duties; and I
want to tell you, ma'am, that the door is
open, and I want you to go. My home is
as much mine as yours is, and because
we work houestly. that doesn't give you a
right to come here with your impertinent
questions.'!
"Well, Miss, it's true I might have been
a littie more polite, but I can’t quite ex
plain to meself what right that woman
had to come into my place and make her
self that free.”
"She hadn’t any. Maggie, and I think
you treated her quite properly.”
I saw Mis’ Connolly was getting very
red in the face, so I asked: "Did she go
to see you, Mis’ Connolly?”
“She did. ma'am," answered Mis’ Con
nolly. “She come in and
SHE SMELT THE MEET A-COOKIX’,
and says she, ‘When you sign this paper,
and get a vote, you won’t waste you r
money on meat, you will be pure-minded
and eat nothin’ but vegetables,’ I give
her one look, and basted the mutton. And
says I,‘l’m feedin’a man. not a dude.’
And then she looked over in the corner,
and she saw my Charley and Isadore
looking at a book, and she saw Charley's
crutch, and says she. ‘lf you had had a
vote,you would have never brought a child
like that into the world.' Then, miss,
it’s a dreadful thing to say. but I
cursed her there and then in good Irish.
Probably she don’t speak it: there
is a good many ignorant people in this
world. But she knew it wasn't ?. bless
ing. And says I, at the end of it, ‘1 bat
boy’s been the joy of our lives. The
knowin’ that it would hurt his feelin’s if
his fathei* wasn't right, has kept Con
nolly a good man, and his weakness has
made me feel gentler to every sorrowful
thing on earth.’ Then 1 begun to cry. and
she says. With a vote, women wouldn't
be havin' to take care of children’ —she
got just that far when somethin' in iny
eye told her to get out, and Ma’am, it
wasn t refined, and 1 wish I could blame
myself for it. but there was a basin of
dirty water standin’ there, and I threw it
on her. and says 1,-Take that, you low
minded thing lor cornin’ down arid talkin’
to decent women as they never Were
talked to before.” I told Connolly about
it when he came in. and I thought he'd
say,‘-Mother, I wouldn’t a done that,’ hut
he give three cheers for me, and kissed
me like as if we'd just been sweet
heartin’.”
I DID LAEGH.
.and in my heart of hearts I agreed with
Connolly. Then I looked down at the
blossom in my arms, and I wondered how
any woman could ask why women bore
children.
By this time Maggie and Mis’ Connollv
were having a cup of tea. and while Mis’
Connolly dilated on how tea should te
made and what a blessing it was. I
asked Maggie how Billy was getting
along. You remember Billy? The poor
boy that, through being in bad company,
was sent to the penitentiary, and when
he came home on Christmas day found
the girl he loved dead, and he never knew
what her life had been while he was
away. Through somebody’s help
Billy went down south, and as he is
not a great letter writer there
must be an event when he is heard
from. So when i asked for Billy. Mag
gie brimmed over with laughter, and
she said: “Well Miss. I hope you won’t
think that Billy was unfaithful, for after
all.he loved that poor girl as only a boy
does, but now he is a man. and he wrote
a letter to Jimmy which, of. course,
he meant for all of us, and in it he says
he s got a sweetheart, and he's goin’ to be
married. They can’t come here on their
weddin’ trip, for that would take too
much money, but they're goin’ to save up
and come on after a while to see us Oh
Miss, what a thing it was that Billy got
a chance! Every night when I say my
prayers I just add this: -Oh. good' God.
if there is a boy who is standin’ between
right and wrong, give him a chance
FOR THE SAKE OF THAT BLESSED MOTHER
who boro the Savior of us all.’ ”
"That’s it, Maggie.” said I, ‘-that’s the
prayer we all want to say. But there
has got to be something beside a chance
given to the boy. There has got to be the
loving encouragement from his own
friends, such as you and Jimmy and Mis’
Connolly gave to him.”
“Well. Miss.” she answered, “we didn’t
do any more than was neighborly.”
“That was all the Good Samaritan did
Maggie,” 1 udded, “and it is the being
neighborly that keeks men and women
good and kind; it is the thinking how to
make somebody else happy that causes a
well-spring of pleasure in your heart,
and it is the helping hand of a neigh bor’
a real neighbor, that holds up many a
sinner. Sometime? I wonder if all the
world wouldn't be better if there stood a
neighbor just by each time somebody fell
a neighbor who understood, notonly what
the sin was. but what the temptations
were; who knew notonly how easy it was
to fall, but how hard it was to stand up
straight I think, Maggie, when God made
you, He made a good neighbor, aud now
what you have got to do is to make your
blossom a great power. You know
to do it: it will come to you ” hnw
BAB TO BE A GODMOTHER.
And then, with many blushes
told me that they had been waiting
christen the baby until I was well enmJa
to be godmother, and that she was
ious to talk about its name. She didr','
believe it ever would have only one y 1
Connolly and she called it “Blos’srmm
Mr. Connolly called it "Swetie”- JiTmv
called it “Lovely” ; Cnarley and Isadora
called it • Queenie,” because it ru J
everybody, and they were all wiiiini
slaves. She whispered what she wan-M
to name it. but I said, "No. Let eai h r
them cail it by the name that seems
beautiful to them, but give to her th
name of the perfect mother—Marv ” 6
Just then the darling wakened up and
when I saw its eyes, I asked where it mi
the color from : for hers, like Jimmy's
are as blue as the sky, while the baliv,
So she laughed and said
••Well. Miss, they explain to you why t
wanted to name her B\b •
MEDICAL
DADWAY’S
13 READY RELIEF.
CURES AND PREVENTS
Coughs,Colds, Sore Throat. I n fl u .
enza. Bronchitis, Pneumonia
Swelling of the Joints, ’
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RHEUMATISM, NEURALGIA,
Frostbites, Chilblains, Headache
Toothache, Asthma,
DIFFICULT BREATHING.
CUBES THE WORST PAINS in from one to
twenty minutes. NOT ONE HOUR alter
reading this advertisement need any
SUFFER WITH PAIN. * ne
Radway’s Ready Relief is a Sure
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Chest or Limbs.
ALL INTERNAL PAINS, Cramp* in the
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ach. Nausea, Vomiting. Heartburn, Diar
rhoea, Colic. Flatulency, Fainting SueUs
are relieved Instantly and quickly cured
by taking internally as directed.
There Is not a remedial agent in the world
that will euro Fever and Ague and all other
malarious, bilious and other fevers, aided hr
so M
WAV S RELIEF.
Fifty cents per bottle. Sold by all Drug,
gists.
RAHWAV & CO, 33 Warren street.
New York. *
MEDICAL
WHEN OTHEIiS FAIL
CONSULT
Dr, Broadfoot.
If sick and despondent, the best medical
help is none too good. Whv not consult a
specialist of established reputation and ua
questioned reliability, such as Dr. Broadtoot’
Whatever opinion is given by him you can
leiy upon it as being true. He is a true genu
ine specialist in all diseases peculiar to mea
and women.
tthe following
Nervous dis
eases and all
its attendinf
ailments of
young and
middle aged
men. the aw
ful effects o!
neglect ed
during weak
ness of tody
'and train,
tailing mem
ory. an and
t r e s s i ng
symptoms,
unfitting one for study or business. Btood
and Skin Diseases, Sores, Tumor. Pimple-.
Tetter. Eczema, Ulcers.Loss of Hair, Scrofula
and Blood poison of every nature, primary
and secondary, promptly and permanently
eradi.ated. Unnatural discharges promptly
cured in a few days., Quirk, sure and safe.
Mail treatment given by sending for symp
tom blanks. No 1 for men, No. 2 for women.
No. :i for skin diseases. All correspondence
answered promptly. Business strictly con
fidential. Entire treatment sent free front
observation to all parts of the country. Ad
dress or call on
J. BROADFOOT. M. D.,
136 Broughton street (upstairs).
Savannah. Ga
JEWuLHY.
DIAMONDS. WATCHES.
Great Inducement in Prices.
Solitaire Diamond Finger Ring from $5 to
$lO. s*>o, SSO to $ :00.
Diamond Ear Rings from S2O, $25. $lO.
$75 to $250l All warranted good Dia
monds of fine quality. .
Great reduction in Gold and Silver
watches of the best make and in Gold
Filled Cases.
18 Karat Wedding Rings a specialty.
Sterling Silver Goods in elegant cases—
the proper ihing for wedding
Also novelties in silver too numerous to
mention, as Hair Pins Hat Pins.
Marks, Belts, etc. Call and examine
before buying, at
DESBOUILLONS’,
THE JEUUEUER.
Bull Street.
" "
ci onaauMMy town
SCHEDULE FOR
isle oi Hope, Moniaomery and mi way Siam
SUiiJAf Tirt/te.
CARS El> AS FOLLOWS:
Leave Holton street 9:0? a. m.: leave Iskj?
Hope 8:17 a. m.; leave Second avenue for isw
of nope. 10. In. 11:15a. m.. 12 IS- Llo.S.JaTji
4.15.5 15, 0 15. 7:la and 8 15 p. m . the • ;
from Holton street, and 11:1... “■••V*
from 'CL-mid avenue, connect with the .te
cars at Sandfly. ...i
Leave .ale of Hope 11:15 a. m.. If 15 ””
2:15,3:15,4:15. 5:15. 0:15, 7:15, 8:15 and 9 P-•
Cars from Thunderbolt to Isle of Hope ev j
hour after 2:00 p. m. until 0 p. m. . •
Leave Montgoinory 8 15. Ua- m -. “?i? ”
mconn.c with I lectrlc cars at wn<i“ y
Leave Isle of Hope for Thunderbolt at -■
and hourly afterwards untilo:3o p. rrt
CITY AND SUBURBAN K t CO_
CH ARLES F.PRENDER2AST
(.Successor to B. li. Footman **
fits, Marine u Sim mb
10. BA V STKBKT.
[Next West of the Cotton Exrhanee]
Telephone call No. 34. SAVANNAH.
M 8 . --• •
L. S. McCSRTHY,
46 DRAYTON STREET.
Piumner. steam n Gas lift
Steam and Gas Fittings-
Globes, all kinds of plumbing suppih•• _
OLD NEWSPAPERS. 200 for 25 cent***
Business unite Mo ruin. New a