Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 289, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 December 1914 — The Flat of City Dreams [ARTICLE]

The Flat of City Dreams

At 8 o’clock one morning the doorbell rang. It rang long and it rang loud. There was the sound of .impending trouble in it. The woman who lived there alone in the "four large, light rooms and bath” arose from the corner of the kitchen tubs, where she was eating her matutinal egg, and opened the door. “I’ve come to take out your telephone,” announced the man who stood there. If three white-garbed surgeons, armed with a folding operating table and a set of carvipg knives, had stood at her portal and made the saihe announcement the woman would have been no more surprised. ‘She swallowed the bit of toast that stuck in her throat and gasped a question. “Why?” was what she said. ' “Landlord’s orders. We’re to to take ’em out” “But I don’t want my telephone removed,” faltered the woman in much the same tone she might have used to defend her vermiform appendix. “That’s what they all say,” responded the representative of the telephone company, cheerfully unstrapping his tools and laying firm hold upon the instrument which he had located/just within the hallway.

“Oh-h-h-h! Do wait a minute < while I call up the janitor and see what this is all about. I’ve always paid my telephone tolls the very minute they were due, and I’ve always ” “That ain’t got nothing to do with it,” broke in the man-with the nippers and screwdriver; "it’s because the**phpnes don’t pay him to keep 'em in. We’ve got orders to discontinue the service in this house, and it won’t do no good complaining to the janitor. The landlord might do something about it —you can call him up If you like.” The landlord was duly called up. “They don’t pay me and they’re being discontinued,” said he.

“Very well,” replied the landlord In response to whatever the woman said “the tenants can move out as soon as they like.” The surgeons began work as soon as she had hung up the receiver. They neatly and dextrously amputated the telephone and twisted the ends of the wires into compact knots. In three and a half minutes all that was left of it was its memory and a slight discoloration of the wall paper. The woman who dwelt in the flat closed the door and sank upon her kitchen chair, not able to realize the full Import of the tragedy that had overtaken her since she had begun to eat her soft boiled egg In happy peace of mind a few minutes before. The nature of her business made It necessary to use the telephone often, the removal of which meant also the removal of the hallboy who had tended the switchboard. Who would take In her packages from the shops when she had them sent occasionally? Who would keep the envelopes of manuscripts that were too fat to go Into the letter box, or the books that came by post that formerly had been cared for by that same hallboy? How should she communicate with the Janitor, who lived two houses away, when the tank on the roof leaked? How should she live, In short, with no means of communication with the outside world and she six stories from the street and no elevator! She would move. So she pnt on her hat and went forth. At dusk she returned, more dead than alive, to be sure, and flung herself upon her dearest possession, her big dark green leather morris chair.

So there/was, after all, one flat in the city of New Yorlr that offered just exactly what she wanted. It was In a delightful neighborhood, opposite an old-fashioned park with iron gates and a key for each happy cltlzeness who lived upon its bonders. The house was kept as neat as wax, the halls were stone, the doors were fireproofed In metal overcoats. The sun streamed In every window apd there was a little balcony to sit Upon on Summer nights. The kitchen sink was one fair sweet surface of snowy porcelain; the bathroom a place of shining nickel. And in the bedroom, a six-foot mirror was upon the yrardrobe door to show the hang of skirt and set of blouse! The telephone service was all night long and the janitor’s sole object In life was to serve and please the tenants. "The rent is $26,” the janitor had told her, as she gazed delightedly about the sunny rooms. "Here are the different bells. This one is your downstair's door and here's the button you press to open It Over here is tlft. buzzer of the dumbwaiter, and this iV the bell that connects with your upstairs door. This one that, I have my linger on sounds downstairs, in me own apartment—it’s to call the jaitor when you want anything. Just put your head into the dumb waiter shaft a moment lady, and you can hear it ring when I press the button —there!” “Burr-rr-mr!” sounded the bell, and the woman awoke with a start her weary head hanging over the arm of the morris chair and the alarm dock bussing Its regular buss.