The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 124: what you’re looking at

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

120 Frivolity. I had curiosity enough to-yo up there to rehearsal and look them over. Ketcham says he hasn't got a woman who looks like her in the crowd.” “How does he know how she looks? ” I asked with faint curiosity. “Humph, a fellow don’t forget a face like that. I gave him a descrip- tion from which an artist could have painted her portrait.” And it was true. One could not for- get the woman. I found myself looking at the memory of the beautiful face when I should have been at work. I’d raise my eves, and the picture would form right in the air before me. It became an exasperating, if not pos- itively uncanny thing, and before the week was out I seized the photo from the shelf one afternoon, bundled it up in some papers, tied all together with a string, and placed the package outside our door for the janitor, who was brushing the halls, to take down-stairs. But 1 declare I could not get rid of the photo. The next day the janitor’s daughter, who came in to dust and “ rid up” our rooms, as she called it, brought something which she placed upon the arm-rest of my desk. “Mr. Giddings, here is your photo- graph. Pa found it in the papers. It must ha’ slipped off the shelf. He didn’t know whose it was, but I remem- bered it. My, but she’s sweet pretty, isn’t she? ” It was that confounded picture. I[ srunted something, which she probably took for assent, and before she went she tidied up the mantel shelf, and I found poor Amy Cartell thrust into the background and the Unknown given the prominent position—" center stage,” I believe they call it in Jack- son’s business. And I declare, I would have torn the thing up but for Jackson himself. “Let it alone,” he cried. ‘“ Would vou mar a beautiful face like that? You have no reverence. ‘* Besides,” he added, “she must be in the profesh, and if she is, [ll find her. Then I'll bring her to New York and exploit her and make a ten strike. If she croaks as bad as one of the Berry Sisters, she'll win out with a face and (50 ugle THE ARGOSY. figure like that,” and he stood before the thing like an enraptured calf! Luckily he was out when Uncle Peleg dropped in on me quite unexpectedly. It was seldom that Aunt Maria let the old gentleman come to town alone. He was the simplest appearing, most benign old fellow who ever looked an casy mark to a trusting bunco steerer; but Uncle Peleg was sharper than a Sheffield razor, and could have beaten David Harum at a horse-trade. Naturally his eyes were fixed on the rows of photographs while I was seeing a caller at the door, and when I came back, there the old duffer was with the fatal photo in his hand. ‘““Who’s this, Joseph?” he asked, pursing up his lips. “ Why, that’s ”’—then I lied the first he that came handy—“ that’s one of Jackson’s friends. Jackson lives here with me, you know.” “ Humph!” Uncle Peleg cleared his voice. “ These others *pear to be yours, Joseph.” “Oh, yes, they are, uncle,” I said lightly. “ That one—er—happened to get mixed in with mine.” Ominous silence. It was up to me to say something further, I thought. “T expect the girl put it there by mistake when she dusted.” “Where’s Mr. Jackson’s other pic- tures?” he asked. “ Oh—ah—er—he has taken them down,” I declared. The truth was, I wouldn’t allow him to put them up. His collection of photos of female loveliness were—well, the limit! I.could see that Uncle Peleg had some doubts which he was too polite to express. But he did anger me when he said, in rather a solemn tone; “I see that Amy Cartell’s picture is here, too, Joseph. I didn’t see it at first. Old friends don’t-count much with young folks nowadays.” I could have wrung his neck for him! Only he was too old a man. Amy and I had been engaged for two vears, but we had not seen fit to tell the world—in other words Uncle Peleg and Aunt Maria—because we did not think it wise to marry until I was safely on my feet. CORRICLIOC <SnGol