Life — December 3, 1898 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

456 “Not exactly,” she answered. “He says he has just arrived in town and he bas no references. But I applied the work test. Jane says he beats rugs better than an Irishwoman at a dollar and a half a day.” That morning, Kitty, on returning from one of her dabs at the cast side, bad found the tramp at the area ga He offered to work for his dinner. She thought the offer was merely a blind, and, after consultation with Jane, they set him to work on the area-way with a bucket of water and a broom, Jane's ex- perience and Kitty's science suggesting the outside test. The work was well done. At dinner the man appeared genuinely hungry, and asked for work in the afternoon. Kitty set him to work on the rugs, and he raised such a dust in the back yard that she engaged him to return the next morning to try his hand on the car- pets. Wewere inthe midst of the spring upheaval. “That man will never come back.” I warned Kitty, after she finished her story. “He's too good to be true.” “ Now, Tom, don’t bea goose. He works. Real tramps never do. Besides, he is awfully polite, and he uses good English. I be- lieve he is a superior sort of man io hard luck.” “All right,” T agreed, “ but think of what Sally Mason and the rest of your scientific slummers will say when they hear that you have believed an unin. vestigated trainp.” “No man I've believed in has ever deceived me”—Kitty looked across at me with a smile—‘‘except one.” And then we talked about that for an hour and forgot the tramp. Kitty was right. The tramp returned the next morning, and I liked bis looks, He seemed to understand what Kitty wanted him to do, and when I came up- town in the evening she reported that he had worked like a trooper all day. =LIFE= That was the beginning of a period of domestic bliss. James proved himself so capable that Kitty engaged him in- definitely during house-cleaning, and later on permanently, as man-of-ail- work. He was dignified, respectful, arid thoroughly capable. He knew how everything ought to be done, and did so much that Kitty threatened to take to the slums again, She said housekeeping was no trick, with James in the base- ment to carry out her orders. I felt his pretence in a variety of ways. My chafing-dish lost its indifferent gloomy appearance, and in less than a month the accumulations of years had been “There was no fanit to be found with James.” polished off my grandfather's candle- sticks, There was no fault to be found with James. Even the Street Cleaning Department was satisfied with the way he sorted our house refuse. This was especially gratifying to Kitty, for our Irish cook and the Italian ash-man seldom agreed as to what constituted ashes or garbage. Once she was obliged to get an expert opinion from the Com- missioner regarding the disposal of seven dead mice we had caught in a trap. Jane insisted that they were not garbage, on the grounds that the regula- tions defined garbage as table scraps ; the Italian said any fool could see that they were not ashes. A scene ensued, and when the matter was referred to Kitty the mice had been changing bar- rels several days. James wrapped doubtful articles in the paper bundle. We never questioned James about his antecedents or past history. Once Kitty ventured an inquiry, and he became s0 embarrassed and looked so sad that she changed the subject, thinking she bad unwittingly called up some sad ex- perience in the past. Lack of personal information, how- ever, did not worry us. James was his own guarantee. I. NE morning, after he had been with us nearly a year, he went out to order some groceries and didn’t come back. At first we thought that some accident had detained him. A day or two passed beforeit. occurred to me to call at the police station. Kitty had imagined James mangled be- neath cable cars; floating silently in the North River; falling dead, aloneand with- out friends, in the street; and in several other equally gloomy situations. The Cap- tain could give me no information, and sug- gested a visit to the morgue. I objected, but Kitty insisted that it was my duty, so I tackled the creepiest job I have ever attempted. James wasn't there. 1 was beginning to think that possibly James wasn’t sick or dead, and asked Kitty to count the silver. Nothing was missing; but I had the locks changed and burglar alarms put in downstairs. In about two weeks Kitty exhausted her imaginative powers on the accident theory, and tried murder and suicide for aday ortwo. Then the reaction set in. She surprised me one evening by saying: “Tom, I always did think James was a scamp. I never told you, but he