Life — March 15, 1883 — page 3: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

wea Baoene MARCH 15, 1883. 1155 Broapway, New York. Published every Thursday, $5 a year in advance, postage free. Single copies, 10 cents. (BH Subscribers who do not receive their copies will please notify the office at once. DUDLEY BANGS'’S HACK RIDE. 1. HE shimmer of a soft June morning played over the ornate front of what at one time was the St. Germain Hotel, at Broadway and Twenty-second street, as E. Dudley Bangs stood on the curbing before it, critically inspecting a line of high-priced hacks. A number of drivers sur- rounded him, cunningly concealing their real de- signs in honeyed forms of speech, and artfully with- holding a statement of those unparalleled prices which render New York hack-driving an amusement for the rich. “T will take this hack,” the young man said at length, indicating No, 1711, which was upholstered in terra cotta; and leaping lightly into the conveyance, he bade the hackman drive to a certain number near the corner of T'wenty-seventh street and Fifth avenue. The door was slammed to with a brisk bang that attracted the attention of a district messenger and a grocer’s boy, who betrayed admiration as they stopped to witness the departure. It was a proud moment for young Dudley Bangs. He tried to bury himself in a cold, uninterested manner in a corner, as he had ob- served persons do who have been long accustomed to travel in conveyances of this superior nature; but mat- ters that he passed were continually drawing his atten- tion, and for the most part his back was straightened and his neck was craned in the process of looking out of the window. He lighted a cigarette, but of course he had barely time for half a dozen whiffs before his journey of one-quarter of a mile was accomplished and the hack, with a fine clatter, was brought up in front of the number indicated. “What's to pay ?” inquired the young man in an off- hand manner, as the driver leaped from his seat, threw the door open, and touched his hat respectfully to Dud- ley Bangs, who stepped upon the pavement with a thrill of pleasure playing down his back. . “Eleven dollars, sir,” the hackman softly replied. Dudley Bangs staggered and grasped the area railing for support. A deathly paleness overspread his face. “What's the matter, sir?” inquired the hackman, who was startled by these alarming symptoms. 5 “W-wait !” gasped the young man, feebly waving the hackman back. “I shall be gone but a few moments;” and recovering himself by a Spartan effort, he ascended the steps of No. — and rung the bell. The door almost instantly swung open and he disappeared. I. GERTRUDE STEBBINS was one of those peculiarly interesting women who are made possible by the fact of the existence of ‘the State of Ohio. She was in New York on account of the temporary submergence of Cincinnati by a freshet. She was a woman of an earnest, determined nature, who permitted no obstacle to stand between her and the semi-annual visits which for some years she had been in the habit of making to Tiffany’s and Lord & Taylor's. If a 66-ft. flood came to her assistance she was grateful, but it was not neces- sary to her. Allied with this nature was a soft, melt- ing deportment; it was the velvet padding hiding feline claws. She loved Dudley Bangs. Her !ove for him was traceable partly to the fact of his having been educated in an Eastern college, and partly to his pos- session of that great beauty of voice and pronunciation which came of his being a native of Maine.’ She knew that he was incapable of investing the letter “‘r" with those miraculous and weird embellishments of ‘sound which are universally accorded to it in the State of Ohio; and her heart went forth to him without option of her’s the moment she observed this creditable ina- bility on the part of the young scholar. The one shadow that darkened her prospect, in so far as he was concerned therewith, consisted in the fear that he would not be frugal enough in his treatment of himself to in- sure to her the means that she desired for her own com- fort. This thought was in her mind when Dudley Bangs rang the door bell ; and as she rose to go to him she could not rid herself of the oppression of a sense that the casual mental impression that had occurred to her was in the nature of an omen. Misgivings are the fenders hung by Providence about a woman’s heart. But she dissembled. “ My Dudley !” This was the exclamation of Gertrude Stebbins as, with arms extended, she moved noiselessly toward him \ comicbooks.com