Democratic Sentinel, Volume 11, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 September 1887 — The Poor Young Man on the Top Floor. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Poor Young Man on the Top Floor.

g§EARLY days of my life Sf were uneventful. I was one of the spotless who traveled gEabout on the back of a gSgoose. True, we saw a&jjßmuch of the world. my companions and I —but as this is going flffifflto be an autobiogI will only relate those incidents in which I played a star

part. In the barn-yard, where my early life was spent, I saw Arabella, a young

lady from New York, iv.th an old gold-col-ored bang, and eyes as blue as wood-vio-lets. She dressed as soberly as a Dominick hen, and all occupants of the barn were fond of her. Even the goose, who had a no-1 toriously bad temper,! forgot to hiss when' she patted its back. ■ Arabella was standing in the doorway one

morning, with her new archery set around her, when the tragedy occurred. The goose was so intent in looking at her fair young figure on the porch that she did not notice any impending danger. Tooling along the road on a bicycle came a young man attired in a neat-fitting corduroy suit. A sunburnt, honest-looking young chap, he seemed to me, who took a sensible view of life, and who knew a pretty girl when he saw her. He saw Arabella, and saw that she •was fair; he did not see the goose, however. There was a collision, and in a moment the air seemed filled with gentlemen’s furnishing goods and mild profanity. The goose, greatly disgusted, with ruffled feathers and a general appearance as if she had been boxing •w;th a buzz-saw or delving into the intricacies of a sausage-machine, retired to recuperate under the hedge, and hissed the other actors in the pFay. Arabella stopped long enough to take up a stitch she had dropped in her knitting, and then wont to the young man’s assistance, like a brave little ■woman that she was. She deftly dug the rich Jersey clay out of his eyes with her rosy fingers, and bathed his brow with eau-de-Cologne. He did not seem to object to

this performance a bit, and lam inclined to think he rather exaggerated the result of his injuries. I know they sat by the shady road long enough to have had a dozen arms set, and he hadn’t broken anything but his bicycle. Well, I thought they never would say good-by; but at last, after taking about an hour to the operation, the young man disappeared over the hill trundling his bicycle, and Arabella ■went back to the house with a dreamy look in her eyes, and anew installment of freckles accumulated during the interview. From that day the young man was often to be seen going by the house, and finally he began to stop at the gate; and it wasn’t very long before they •were practicing archery on the lawn. The summer passed and the fall set in, but even in the bleak days of Oc-

tober they were always toige t her l Ip 1 a ying Slawn - ten|n i s or ' some outdoor game for Araa b e 1 la’s aunt did not approve of the young man at all. u t one 'J day Araa be 11 a

•Suddenly packed up all her dainty dresses and started for home. We all mourned her loss in the barn-yard, and ■sympathized with the bicycle rider. I noticed about ten days after Arabella went away that the goose to whom we clung with such affection was growing fat. The fact alarmed me, for I Knew by the signs that our venerable friend was destined to fair into the hands of the executioner. She, poor thine', suspected nothing of the impending danger, but ate her double rations with a thankful heart, and waddled about the barn-yard proud wuth satisfaction. But the gluttonous grass-widow did not long enjoy her luxurious life; for ■one night we were bundled unceremo-

niously into a box, and found ourselves in a few hours on the rolling cars When I finally saw daylight again, it ■was td find myself in a £reat market with a .glass - covered

roof, and filled with hurrying people.

I was being whirled through the building at a 2:10 speed, on the wings of the cold north wind, for I was free at last to go where I would; my old friend the goose, bare as a new-born babe, lay on a stall below me as I whirled by. I was so busy looking around me that I ran smack into the face of a hungry-looking young man, who was haggling with a marketwoman for a pound of liver. Heavens! I recog-

-nized the young bicycle rider. I was very glad Arabella was )not present to see him as I did that day ;without an overcoat or gloves, his face blue with the cold, and a

hungry, half sad look in his eyes. He looked as if he had very little to give thanks for, poor fellow! I would have liked to follow him, but a particularly spiteful gust of wind

just at that moment carr i e d me off and w h i rled i me down] the street! A little) s hivering n ewsboy, who

trying to warm himself over a grating in Printing House Square, caught sight of me drifting airily by, and after a chase finally captured me, to his great delight. It was nine o’clock before my little friend had disposed of all his

papers and started for home. Our way led through 1 the east end of the •city, where the looked like Ewrecks stranded on the shores of the commercial sea; tottering tenements that overlooked blind alleys, with sight-less-looking windows filled with

old hats and dingy newspapers. The house we entered was squalid enough; its halls reeking with filth, where grimy-faced children were enjoying some boisterous games. The family of my captor occupied a single room

near the roof. There were seven in all; his father and mother, who had never known what rest meant in all their worn and weary lives, three other boys, and the tiniest baby I ever laid my eyes on. I was soon in the baby’s dimpledj fingers, and though a good 2 deal crushed by the oper-:

ation, I felt I was giving the poor little thing pleasure. 1 was just making a survey of the room and its happy occupants—for they did seem to be happy in spite of their surroundings—when the door opened,

and who should enter but Arabella! Yes, Arabella; and behind her strode a footman in livery, carrying a basetful of poultry and groceries enough to last the family for a month. And how the newsboy yelled, and his mother laughed, and the baby crowed, when they found that

all the good things were for them. I declare, I wished I could be a man to buy Arabella just then and there for what she had done. It would take me a long time to describe the pleasure that poor family experienced through her bounty, and

how the table groaned with good things. They were all going to sit down to the first good meal they had enjoyed in weeks,' when the news-

boy suggested that they should send for the young man on the top floor, since they had so much and to spare. And no sooner said, than one of the youngest of the family had climbed up to the attic, and was soon pushing a reluctant young man into the room. It was another surprise for me, for 1 was again confronted with my old friend the bicycle rider. 1 knew just how he felt. He was proud and he did not like to accept anything from these poor, honest people ; but they made him so welcome, and the appetizing smell of the dinner was so savory, that before he exactly knew what to think, he was seated at the table and eating as he had not eaten since he left the country. I found out, through the conversation at the table during the meal, that he was a poor author, and that the paper on which he had worked had suddenly failed, so that he was reduced to extreme want. He talked remarkably well for so young a man, and I grew very much interested in him. , Among other things, he said he bad grown so discouraged of late that he had not written a line, but an idea for a poem had come to him as he walked about the streets that day, and he intended to begin it at once. After dinner was over he caught sight of me in the baby’s hands. “Just the thing I want to write my poem with, if the baby don’t mind,” he said with a laugh. “If you will lend it to me, perhaps it will bring me luck, and I shall soften the heart of some publisher.” So he got me finally, and,' after saying goodnight to the honest people, went up to his attic, where he fashioned me into

as fine a quill-pen as ever an author gained immortality by using. For hours and hours that night I traveled diligently over the paper—

though the young man was considerate enongh to I give me frequent rests while he ran his fingers through his hair to . collect his thoughts. It was nearly morning

before we stopped our work, and I was laid down alongside of the poem, which was beautifully written on a spotless piece of paper, all ready for the next operation. In the morning my proprietor put me in his pocket, together with the completed manuscript, and then we did a great deal of walking until we came to a square filled with trees and benches. At the north end of this stood a high brick building, which I recognized by the sign as belonging to a very wealthy publishing house. My proprietor, with a confident step, entered an elegant office in this build-

ing, and deposited his manuscript with a supercilious-look-ing clerk, who eyed j him disdainfully as 1 he pitched the pack- J age into a half-filled basket that lay on the desk. But my proprietor was too confident of success to mind this, and

hummed a merry tune all the way home* An old goose-quill I once met on the farm, and my only literary friend, once told me that the average magazine editor generally took one year to read a manuscript, one year to pay for it, and about five years to publish it. I was therefore surprised to find, a few days

afterward, that my captor had received a letter from the editor, inclosing a check accompanied by a request that he would call with a view to future contributions. 1 Our second visit was more pleasant than the first, and we soon found ourselves in the presence

of the editor. I noticed my proprietor started when the great man of the magazine introduced himself; but, however, that might be, I know we ac-

cepted the invitation to dine that evening a t the editor’s house with great alacrity. To make a long story short, we went to the dinner, andi there the bi-

cycler was introduced by the editor to his daughter, who turned out to be none other than Arabella! So I was the means of bringing together two loving hearts, and saving that truly good young man from being a suicide. They were married yesterday, and I, mounted in gold, occupied the most conspicuous place among the many costly presents. I did that young man a good turn once, and I shall do it again. He shall be immortal, if my nibs hold out!