Marion Marlowe in Omaha, or, Held up by Accident — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

MY QUEEN. The voice of “Jackets’” mother, bidding her enter, brought her back to her senses, and with a heroic effort the young girl brought a smile to her features. | “T am almost well,’’ were the soubrette’s first words. “ ‘Jackets’ has taken good care of me. Why, he is almost as good as the doctor!’ I am really proud of my baby, Miss Marlowe.” ~« Marion sat down by her side in the chair that “Jackets” had vacated, and as the boy slipped to the farther end of the room, she eoked after him tenderly. “He is going to grow up a noble man, Ida,” she said, brightly. “Your boy’s evil days are passed, and now he is going to be a brave, kind gentleman. dear? Is the arm getting better?” Ida Inez lifted her right arm to demon- strate the truth of her words. “Tt will be well by to-morrow night—I am sure of it,” she said, gayly; “so, you see, | will be all ready for the first performance.”— “We all of us will—all but Alma,” was the answer; “but Mr.) Temple has arranged for Miss Ellis to ‘double up.’ imgénue’s part in this play amounts to very little.” “It will be my baby’s début,’ said Ida, laughing. “I do hope he'll be as famous some day as little Ruby.” You know, the é “Don’t want ‘ter be famous! I'd ruther be rich!” came from the lips of “Jackets,” as he sidled over a little nearer to Marion. . “Tse kin do de ack all right, an’ don't youse fergit it; but de t’ing is here: Do I’se want ter rooin’ me repertation? I’se er sport, tis, an’ dat’s de t'ing dat goes in dis bloomin’ country! W’y, dere wuzn’t er light-fingered gent in St. Paul wot c’u’d do me! Dis kid c’'u'd give de hull push cards an’ spoids an’ den lick ’em out er sight! Now, wot does dis jay acktin’ ‘mount ter ’side er dat ocker- pashun ?” : But how are you, really, “ 114 “Oh, Jack!” His mother cried out the words in a tone Would she never be able to re- form her incorrigible offspring ? “Don’t sweetly; then she put a gentle hand on the of horror. scold him, dear,” said Marion, strange child’s shoulder. “So you would rather be a bad, wicked thief than a gentleman?” she said, very softly. “You would rather be a criminal, stealing what does not belong to you, than to be an honorable man that every one respects and Why, ‘Jackets,’ if I were a boy, I should want to have people love me! looks up to? 1 should want them to trust me, and know that I-was honest! Do you ever think, ‘Jack- ets, what a bad man Dan Hobart was—the man who taught you to steal, and who is now in prison? All criminals are caught sooner Then jail, or perhaps to the gallows.” cr later, ‘Jackets.’ away they go to There was no reply for a minute after the young girl.spoke, and then ‘“‘Jackets’’ lodked up at her with a curious expression. | “Don’t youse want me ter crib t’ings, Miss Marlowe?” he asked, slyly. “If youse don’t, [ll quit; dat’s de sollum trut’! It’ll be orful hard, but youse is de only peach in de orchid! Ii I give youse my woid, I'll stick ter it like glue! Dis kid don’t never go back on er loidy !” Ida Inez held her breath, but Marion an- swered delightedly: . “Will you really promise me never to steal any more?” she asked, quickly. “Oh, ‘Jack- ets,’ if you will, I will love you dearly !” “Dat settles it! De game is chucked! Val- lybles an’ hoodle is safe in dis town, Miss Marler! I’se wouldn’t pinch er jooel if TI’se fell over it on de poivements! Dat’s de trut’, Miss Marler! Youse kin gamble on it!” @vlarion eaught him up in her arms and gave him a kiss. He was a clean boy now thanks to his altered habits. . W1] es Conmchooksseoim