Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 September 1884 — “PAT.” [ARTICLE]

“PAT.”

BY M. C. FARLEY.

11l own up that from the very first *he interested me, but it is a compulsory admission on my part even yet. We were all lodging in a big up-town boarding-house, where boarders were thicker than whortleberries in July, *nd where “help” was hardly to be had for love or money. The landlady had one day been “taking on” at a fearful rate over the difficulties surrounding her position, when in walked a young person in search of a situation. She was a perfect godsend. Nobody stopped to ask her for reference. Indeed, the landlady said shortly that she was only too glad to find somebody who could do something, and, for her part, she didn’t care a fig where the ■girl came from, nor who she was, so long as she did the duties allotted to her. Inasmuch a 3 we had been taken in a short time previous by a certain immaculate young Jezebel, who had not only stolen the hearts of all the gentlemen about the house, but had Also eloped with all their other valuables as well, some of us rather felt ■cross-grained toward the worthy hostess, and wished she would be A trifle more particular in the selection of her servants, especially the parlor maids. But as she wasn’t particular, and acted in an outrageously independent manner in the bargain, we women all determined among ourselves that, come what would, the new girl should be well watched, and if she was inclined to be tricky we would’ catch her in her tricks and expose her. Even married ladies, you know, don’t relish laving the graces of a servant rung in their ears by their husbands and friends. There were thirty of us all told, and we were divided up into half a dozen little cliques, as boarders will divide up when domiciled together. We each tried at different times to be the belle of the house, and as such one and all of us had met witfybut indifferent success; to be left ip the shade by the new girl was unbearable. And that girl! The ,-gentlemen to a man had declared in favor of'her at the first sight. Even young Howe—-whom report said was smitten with a cousin he had never seen —in two days was raving over the pardor maid. , I notice that men seem to lave a propensity for falling in love with servants, any way, and this particular one hadn’t been in the house two weeks before she had earned the undying hatred of every woman in it—excepting the landlady. She said her name was Patty, and Patty we called her to her face—for there was something about her that conquered our insolence when in her presence, and forced us to treat her politely, no matter how we felt toward her. But among ourselves we invariably cut her name down to the first syllable and called her Pat. That is the spiteful way women take to vent their dislike on a person they dare not attack openly. And what a way she had. The Princess of Wales herself never •entered a room with a grander air than Pat did, when, duster in hand, she ■walked about the rooms dusting the ’things and putting the furniture to Tights. She huad a tall, willowy figure, that swayed like a reed in the wind as •she moved, and a pair of dyes as big and bright and black as eyes could well be. It was astonishing to Hear some of the gentlemen raving over Pat’s “delicate figure” and her “midnight eyes.” As for me,l’ve always said, and say it again, that I’d as soon embrace a lightning-rod as one of those tall slim girls. I am not an ardent admirer of thin people myself, but tastes differ. We watched Fat as closely as cats would •watch a mouse. We were literally dying to catch her trying to inveigle some ■of the gentlemen into a flirtation, but “we did not succeed in so doing—the sly boots! , At this juncture there was a new arrival—a lady. She was young, pretty, not too tall, but round and plump. All the women were in ecstasies. Here ■was a rival to that awful Pat We all immediately “called” on the stranger, And we not only called on her, but we opened our hearts confidentially and told her about the parlor maid who was at present reigning like an uncrowned queen over the male element of the boardinghouse. Mias Prettyman smiled disdainfully You*ought to be ashamed,” said • ’ * - ».*. . ’

she, in her clear, high tones. “Here you are, fifteen ladies, all under 35 years of age, and yet you let a servantgirl carry away the honors before your face and eyes. I detest entering the lists against a hired maid, but, to save the reputation of the house, 11l think it over, and let you ladies see what I can do.” We thanked her humbly and went away. As I re-entered my room I spied the tall figure of Pat approaching my door. “Now, then, Pat,” said I, shaking a wrathful finger at her “now, then, you’ll drop your colors. We’ve got a match for you at last, you jadej” “Were you speaking to me, madam?” says Pat* innocently, swinging her duster carelessly in her hand; “if so, please repeat your words, I did not understand you.” But I merely slammed the door and bided my time. Promptly at noon down came Miss Prettvman to dinner, arrayed for vic.torv in pink sills, diamond ornaments, and no end of style. Young Howe, the beau par excellence of the house, always sat next me at dinner. All the single ladies were trving their very best to catch that wily young man, but none could, boast of any success. To tell the truth, Mr. Howe had been abominably indifferent to all the ladies, except us married ones, until the advent of Pat, when, to our unbounded rage and consternation, he had immediately struck his colors and gone unconditionally over to the “enen my. “Now, then,” said I to him, “what do you think of the new arrival ?” He adjusted his eye-glass carefully and looked at Miss Prettyman. “Nice girl,” drawled he; “nice complexion, too—if it’s natural; but rather stumpy little figure, eh ?” Stumpy! I could have boxed his ears. Of course he was making a mental comparison of the two girls, and Pat’s tall figure, which to me looked for all the world like an animated telegraph pole, was the standard of perfection in his estimation. It was enough to make a disinterested person sick. A week passed by. We could all see that Miss Prettyman was doing her very best to displace Pat from her throne, and not without some small prospect of final success. Mr. Howe, though, never flinched an instant, but was ready at any moment to lift the cudgels in defense of the maid. “And we all thought you dead in love with that cousin of yours, whom, report says, you have never seen!” said I, spitefully, one evening. “And for once you all thought the right thing,” retorted he, coolly; “only I have seen her often, and my admiration increases daily.” “Somebody ought to tell her about Pat.”

“I’ll tell her myself, if you’ll give me time enough," said he, lounging away. There was a little romance attached to the Btory of Mr. Howe and his cousin. The story, as I heard it, was something like this: Mr. Howe’s grandfather had two daughters. One ran off and married an Englishman against her father’s wishes; was disowned, and disinherited. The othgr one married a merchant prince, and died young, leaving a child—none other than young Howe himself. Finding himself' on his death-bed, the grandfather and causing a search to be made for his discarded daughter, found her still living, though in humble circumstances, with her Englishman. The issue of their marriage was one child— a daughter.

Now what did the old fellow do but have his will drawn up, in which, after providing for the Englishman and his wife, he left the bulk of his fortune to his two grandchildren, providing they married each other; or, failing in this, the money all went to the one who was willing to marry. If both declined to wed, the estate was to go to a charitable institution. Young Howe wrote to his cousin, stating the terms of the will and signifying his desire to comply with his grandfather’s wishes. But she wrote back, flatly refusing, on the grounds that her mother had been wronged. Then the attorneys wrote her, telling her she was losing a fortune by her obstinacy, and still she refused. The lawyers were obliged to turn over the whole great fortune to Mr. Howe, who, worried at his cousin’s passing her life in poverty and care, determined to transfer half the property to her, and visited her home for that purpose; only to find she had disappeared, none knew whither.

The upshot of the matter was that he inserted ,a masked personal in the Evening Journal. But so far he had heard nothing in response. Mr. Howe had never seen his cousin, but he had an excellent photograph of her that had been given him by her mother. Of course, this little romance in his history made Mr. Howe quite a hero in our estimation, and when he so far forgot himselfand his high position as to turn his eyes toward Pat popular indignation reached a climax. Miss PretS* man was making a “dead set” at Mr.. owe, and I fancied Pat sometimes gave her a scornful glance from her big eyes when they met, and meet they did, quite often, for it seemed as if Miss Prettyman could not be satisfied with the services of the other servants, but must always insist on having Pat to wait upon her. We were all delighted with the way Miss Prettyman managed to make the maid’s heart ache, for Pat began to show plainly enough that she liked Mr. Howe better than a person in her situation ought to have done, and Miss Prettyman would casually allude to him in her presence in a way that was exasperating to say the least. Pat began to look taller and thinner than usual, and her manners were prouder and more scornful than ever. She was actually unbearable to us, and we longed for something to happen that would take her down a notch or two. We were all in the parlor one evening, and a stranger who had come that day begap a long tirade on the folly and mawkishness of the personals in the Evening Journal. “Now, here’s one,” he declared, “that is sillier and more romantic Jhan all the rest.” At that moment Miss Prettyman accidentally knocked over a rare*vase and smashed it into atoms.

Pat answered the belL “Gather up the debris, Patty,” said Miss Prettyman, loftily, to the maid; “and be as noiseless as possible, for Mr. Hanford is going to read.” Patty stooped over the pile of broken china, and Mr. Hanford cleared his throat. “The gentleman is abont to give us a sample of the ‘personals’ found in the city papers,” whispered Howe to the parlor maid, in a distinctly audible tone. “What do you think of them, as a rule. Miss Patty?” “I don’t think of them at all,” said she, coldly. “I never read them.” “This one ‘takes the cake,’ as the saying is,” went on Hanford. “Now, listen a moment, ladies and gentlemen, and then give me your opinion. ” “Miss Cleopatra 8.: “Cousin: If my presence is distasteful to you, I will try to find you no longer. But, for the sake of your father and mother, return to your home. I will not force myself upon your notice, but will say that half of your grandfather’s money shall be given to you, providing you will let me know where to send it. Sorrowfully yours, “F. S. H.” That was Howe’s advertisement, and I recognized it instantly, for he had showed it to me privately one time, and I wondered how he would take Hanford’s scathing criticism. At the words “Miss Cleopatra S.” Pat had stiffened up straight as - a ramrod and turned a pair of big-surprised eyes upon Hanford—anger, amazement, and incredulity expressing themselves by turns upon her face. Nobody thought to express an opinion ; we were all struck dumb at Pat’s look and action. “It strikes me,” said Miss Prettyman, with an arch glance at Howe, who, quite pale, stood glancing furtively at Pat, “it strikes me that the object for which I entered this house is attained at last.”

The object for which she had entered that house! Good gracious! *We women looked askance from one to the other. What on earth did Miss Prettyman mean ? She smiled at Howe and made a motion with her hand. “Of course these women,” with a slightly scornful emphasis on “Ihese women.” “are burning up with curiosity to know what all this means. Let us explain.” Pat reached out a trembling hand for the paper Hanford still held. “Will you let me look at that personal?” she faltered. And then that false, deceitful, good-for-nothing Miss Prettyman put her arm around Pat’s waist, and said, in a voice that would have melted an iceberg : “You shall see the paper all you like, dear girl, after awhile. Bufr*just now let me introduce you to all those people in your proper character of Miss Cleopatra Sherman, heiress to half a million of money, and cousin of Mr. Frank Sherman Howe.” And some way Mr. Howe had hold of Pat’s hands the next moment, and began telling something about his suspecting her to be his cousin, from her strong resemblance to the photograph he carried in his pocket, and that, not daring to let her know of his suspicions, he had hired a female detective to come into the house and watch her, and how, just the day Miss Prettyman liad actually discovered proof of his suspicions in a box of letters she had found in Pat’s room, and—to make a long story short, that detestable Pat was a great heroine for the next four aad twenty hours, and the landlady gave a very lofty toss to her head when one by one we slipped out of the parlor and hunted her up to tell her the news. “It don’t surprise me at all to hear that Patty’s somebody,” said she, with a very superior air. “But what does surprise and amuse me is the way you ladies have been taking on over that Miss Prettyman, who is nothing but a female detective. I think this time you pulled the wool over your own eyes. ” Mr. Howe conducted Pat to her home next day; but, before they went away, he called at my door. “Good-by, madam,” says he, blithely; “you always told me’ that I would marry my cousin at last if I would only persevere in carrying on the siege. And I am glad to let you know that I think you’re a true prophet. I shall send you cards for the wedding. ” From behind my window-blind I watched them enter the carriage, and as Pat—l will call her so still—raised her hands in the sunlight, I saw glittering on the first finger of the left one a blazing stone, which convinced me that the poor old grandfather’s fortune would be settled as he wished it should be.