Democratic Sentinel, Volume 13, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 August 1889 — LOVE IN A CAB. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

LOVE IN A CAB.

BY JULIA E. LEWIS.

Englewood is not a very large place and is not apt to grow much, for the -simple reason that it is situated some four miles from a railway station. The •town was settled long before the railwad was built, and when the surveyors were at work on tlie route of the road, they made arrangements to make that place one of their principal stations. They never thought that they would be hindered in this plan, but they did not know the people of Englewood.

There were only two classes of people in that town. One class included the residents who had lived in that town all their lives, and whose children would most likely occupy the same houses, pursue the same business, and do just exactly the same tilings as their ancestors had done. 'This class was decidedly averse to anything new. They hated improvements, frowned down every enterprise that would change the primitive method of doing business in Englewood, and endeavored to make that town the same old sleepy place it always had ■'been. The other class comprised a number of newcomers, who ■were anxious to see Englewood improve, but, seeing no indications that such a state of things would occur, were for making all the money they could out of the property they owned in Englewood. Between the two classes the railroad •company had a hard time of it. The old-time citizens positively refused to sell an inch of the ground to the railroad company, resisted all their efforts to secure ground, and by legislation hampered the company with such restrictions that the operating expenses in the vicinity of Englewood would have been much greater than on any other portion of the line. The other class of people, thinking that the company would be compelled to tap Englewood, asked such awful prices .for their ground that the railroad comjrany refused to negotiate with them. To solve the difficulty a new route was ■ surveyed, and the road branched off in another direction, the nearest point to Englewood it touched being at Clifton, some four miles away. A line of coaches and a few cabs carried passengers from Englewood to Clifton. One night in September, I took the "train from New York to Clifton. I was feeling miserable, and no wonder, for I was just about bidding farewell to •all my friends in Englewood, to leave the associations I had grown up with since childhood, and go to far-distant California to commence life anew. Up to two weeks before that time I had considered myself one of the luckiest lawyers in that portion of the country. J had a good practice, splendid prospects, and enjoyed the best of health. Suddenly there came a sorrow into my life that made me make up my mind to break all the ties that bound me to Englewood and its people, and go to a portion of the United States where I was unknown. As you no doubt have, -ere this, fathomed the sorrow", I might ms well confess and tell you it was a woman that caused me to make this She was the fairest crea'ture in Englewood, with rippling • ; golden hair, laughing blue eyes, and a complexion that needed no artificial embellishment to enhance its beauty. I had loved Ethel Linton for years, ibut being one of those men whose bravery and courage all ooze out of them when talking to a beautiful woman, I had never asked if my love was returned. True it was that Ethel •always treated me in a cordial, friendly way, but she did the same with all the rest of her admirers, and I never could tell whether she loved me or not. At last, I made up my mind that the torture would have to end, and I merved myself to ask the question which would make me either happy or .miserable. For weeks I endeavored to .secure a favorable opportunity, but .Ethel always seemed to divine my intentions, and on some pretext or an•other would turn the conversation to some other subject. I tried in every way possible to find the time when I could deliver the carefully prepared speech I had rehearsed offering her my hand and heart, but it came not. If I became sentimental in my talk Ethel woulk dash into some prosaic subject that would take all the romance out of If I asked her for a few’ moments’

serious conversation, she would tell | me that life was too short to indulge | iu seriousness, and would break out I into a rapid description of some gay i ball or party she had attended. At! last, angered by her seeming indiffer- 1 ence, I one evening called her a heart-1 less coquette and left her, convinced ! that she was toying with my affections, and, unwilling to stay where I would I be perpetually reminded of my love ; for her, I made arrangements at once i to leave Englewood forever. I had j almost completed arrangements for the disposal of my practice, and had been ' in New York to settle everything defin-1 itely. I was returning to Englewood I to pack my trunk and leave that place • the next day forever. As I thought I Ethel was a coquette, I determined ■ she should not see me again, so I took > a late train from the city and intended : leaving Englewood in the morning. It was a terrible night. The rain i was coming down in torrents, the ■ thunder was roaring, and the sharp flashes of lightning made the few pas-| sen gers in the car draw their heads I away from the window. It was the ‘ kind of a night that would give a man I the “blues” if he had not the pleasure i of looking forward to a comfortable fire ■ and cosy room awaiting him at home. |

As I had no anticipations of such a joy, but was looking forward to saying farewell to the familiar scenes of my life, on the next day, my feelings were decidedly morose. The train sped on and I thought how happy I could be if Ethel Linton were not heartless. Then I thought of the misery of being separated from the only woman I had ever loved, and. as my mind lingered on the subject, I clenched my fingers until the nails were driven deep into the palm« of my hands. At last we reached Clifton, and I alighted. Hurrying along the platform, to escape the rain, I reached a cab, the only one standing there. I engaged it, and jumped in. The long train moved off into the darkness of the night, and I was just congratulating myself on the fact that there were no other passengers for Englewood, who would disturb my gloomy thoughts on my way there, when a trim, neat figure came along the station plat orm. It was a female, and I mentally cursed my luck in being compelled to ride those four miles with a woman, and most likely being compelled to converse with her, when I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. The driver w aited for her, and when she came up said, “I’m sorry, Miss, but this cab is the only one here, and if you want to get to Englewood you’ll have to put up with this gentleman as a passenger.” Instantly my gallantry asserted itself, and jumping out of the cab I said, “Miss, you certainly will have to occupy the cab with me, as there are no other conveyances here and it is too bad a night for either of us to walk.”

To my great surprise the lady raised her veil and said, “Thank you, Mr. Herriatt, I shall be happy to accept your kind offer and will' occupy the cab with you.” “Good enough,” said the driver. And he assisted her in. Then he mounted the box and I, stunned by the thought that I would be compelled to ride four miles in a cab with a woman I was going to run away from, got in the carriage and sat beside her. The door closed and the driver whipped up his horses and away we went. I drew myself to one side of the carriage and looked out of the window, but I could see nothing. Then I felt an irresistible desire to hear Ethel talk once more. In a matter-of-fact tone I asked her how it was she came to Clifton so late, aud why it was that no one was there to meet her. In a cool, deliberate manner she informed me that she had been on a visit to her aunt in New York, aud had missed an earlier train. Thinking that there would be plenty of conveyances at Clifton, she had not telegraphed to her father. Then we were both silent, and we heard nothing but the patter of the rain and the steady tramp of the horses’ feet. The silence was terrible to me. My anguish increased as the thought flashed across my mind that this would be the last time I should ever be in Ethel Linton’s company. With each successive flash of lightning I looked at Ethel, but there was no encouragement there. She sat with her beautiful face close up to the window peering out into the darkness. At last a brilliant inspiration came into my head. Here I had been trying

” ' for months to secure a favorable opportunity to tell Ethel Linton of my love, and now that chance had come and I was neglecting it. She could not put me off with any trival excuse now but w-ould be compelled to listen to me. XV hat would it matter if she did say no? I was going away any way and I would have the satisfaction of knowing that my love was not returned and possibly this would enable me to forget her. My mind was fully made up and the very thought gave me courage. .Just then we reached a bad portion of the road and the cab gave a lurch. Ethel gave a little scream and as the side of the carriage she was on went up in the air she nestled close to me. I instantly placed my arm around her waist and held her there. The danger of upsetting was over in a moment, for we struck a level piece of road just then, but I still held on to Ethel. Then in impassioned tones I poured forth the story of my love. I told her how I had loved her for years, how on account of that love I was going far away on the morrow and pleaded with her for an answer. To my delight there was murmured a sweet little “yes,” which, though not a very intelligent answer to the last question, convinced me that Ethel loved me,

Instantly my gloomy feelings were driven away by the sun of joy and I blessed the weather, the cabmen who had stayed at home and in fact everything that had helped me to thus secure a definite answer to my proposal. When I had formerly traveled between Clifton and Englewood I thought that those four miles were the longest ever heard of, but that night it seemed as if we fairly flew along the road, for we reached Englewood in what seemed a very short time. I left Ethel at her father's door, and as I kissed her good night I said, “Darling, I w on’t go to California for several months and then it will be on my wedding trip.” The next day|l changed all my plans and settled down in Englewood/and in a few months Ethel and I were married and took a wedding trip to California. We often talk about our past live and I tell her how near she came to wrecking mine by her coquetry. She always tells me how sorry she is, but declares that she always loved me and only teased me so in the hope that I would speak out and ask for her hand, so she could say “yes.” Anyway I shall never forget the night I rode with Ethel from Clifton to Englewood, and whenever I see a cab I feel like taking off my hat to it.

GOOD ENOUGH,” SAID THE DRIVER, AND HE ASSISTED HER IN.