Life — December 25, 1884 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

* LIFE: from his work ; the figures on the “ monthly statement ” would all resolve into one figure—a trim little one it was, too, in a pink cambric dress and a chip hat—and then bowing his head forward to the desk, he would give himself up to memory and imagination. Once when dozing in this position he had sud- denly exclaimed, “MATILDA!” in a loud tone, and had sprung to his feet. This unconscious action made John blush most uncomfortably, while all the office roared with laughter, as they cried, “Oh; ho! So ¢hat’s her name, is it?” “ s’pose she ’s your cousin or your sister?” “ Dear Matilda!” The accountant, Mr. Augustus Mooney, did not laugh, however. His peace of mind was as effectually ruined, for it was now evident to him that his fellow-clerk was in love with the very creature who was the idol of his own affec- tions, and perhaps the reason that she did not encourage his suit, was because she favored that of his rival. And he scowled revengefully between the bars of the pen-holder rack at the abashed and apologetic J. W. Bethune. Bethune was what is commonly called a “good young man.” He was not a Sunday-school superintendent, nor did he ever lead at prayer-meeting, but he annually rented a sit- ting in a church pew, and each week the postman left at the office the papers to which he subscribed — The Parish Visitor, Bible Society News, Religious Weekly, and Zion Tribune. “ Augustus,” he said to the accountant on the first of Sep- tember, “ Mr. Beemish has told me to take my two weeks’ vacation now, and I am going to leave town this evening. Would you be kind enough to redirect my mail for me while I am away, and see that it is forwarded ?” “Certainly,” replied Mr. Mooney, frigidly; “with the greatest pleasure. Be so polite as to give me your address.” “ Blissville,” said Bethune with alacrity, “care of James Pemmican, Esq. Blissville, Cleveland County.” “ New York,” added the accountant, as he wrote it down. “T will see that your mail is sent without delay. I hope you will have a very pleasant time, John. Good-bye.” And as the office door softly slammed behind his departing rival he planned an everlasting and overwhelming revenge. “Ma,” said old Pemmican to his wife on the third evening after their guest’s arrival, “it’s as plain as the nose on your face that John is a-courtin’ of our Matilda.” This, Mrs. Pemmican did not contradict. Not because the nose on her face was not decidedly plain, but because it was a statement that admitted of no contradiction. “Well,” she said, after a pause, “ what do you think about it?” “T don't ‘zactly know,” replied Mr. P. “ But it strikes me that he’s almost 400 good. It ain’t nateral for a young feller to talk about the work of the Tract Society a// the time, nor to be continooally a-quotin’ of the Zion Tribune. He may be honest in it all, but it does seem to me as if a good deal of it was put on for appearance’s sake.” “I been a-thinkin’ pretty much the same’s you have,” re- marked his wife. “T’ other day,” continued Mr. P., “ when that there wapse crawled in under his pants, all that that feller said was, ‘Dear 367 me. This is very distressin’?’ _I’d a great deal sooner heard him cuss, jest a little. It would have sounded more man- like, anyhow.” “Pre-haps it would,” said‘Mrs. Pemmican. “But what do you think you'll do if he speaks to you about Matilda Louise?” “T reckon I'll say Vo,” answered Mr. P., as if he was ad- dressing the unfortunate John at that very minute. “ You are steady and well-to-do, but you ’re most too pious to be human. You're a-workin’ too much of a son-in-law boom with us old folks. You don’t never play cards, nor go to horse trots, nor anything else that most young men do. I’m fond of you, John, an’ you may get the cashiership of a bank, but you’re too all-fired religious !—shat’s what I’m a-goin’ to say to him.” * “Well,” sighed Mrs. Pemmican, ‘I do hope it’ll all turn out right, an’ not make any trouble. Any way, I agree with you, pa, in likin’ him better than Augustus Mooney, that used to keep company with her in town. Gracious sakes! if it ain’t ten o'clock, and they haven’t come in from their walk yet. This moonlight zs nice for the young people, though !” => 3 eS A LEGAL. MIND. Grandpapa (trying to be severe): NOW, MABEL, TELL ME WHY YOU DIDN'T PUT THAT QUARTER I GAVE YOU INTO THE PLATE AT CHURCH THIS MORNING. I LIKE TO SEE A LITTLE GIRL GIVE CHEERFULLY AND NOT “LET HER RIGHT HAND KNOW WHAT HER LEFT HAND DOETH.” Incorrigible Granddaughter (who ts saving the money for candy): THAT'S JUST THE TROUBLE, GRANDPA. ly RIGHT HAND THOUGHT MY LEFT WAS PUTTING IT IN, AND MY LEFT HAND THOUGHT MY RIGHT WAS, AND SO BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM IT DIDN'T GET PUT IN AT ALL! comicbooks.com