University of Wisconsin Superior - Gitche Gumee Yearbook (Superior, WI)

 - Class of 1910

Page 24 of 134

 

University of Wisconsin Superior - Gitche Gumee Yearbook (Superior, WI) online collection, 1910 Edition, Page 24 of 134
Page 24 of 134



University of Wisconsin Superior - Gitche Gumee Yearbook (Superior, WI) online collection, 1910 Edition, Page 23
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Page 24 text:

tired of it. So I just kept still until she not over the spasm, and was going to begin a i T c H E G U N E E left her that night, I told her to come around at the same time next evening, and I would see if the police had gotten the four dollars and a half she lost. “Sure enough, next night 1 forked over the cash and faked up a detective story about how they got it, but wouldn’t tell who stole it. I asked her to go to a couple of shows with me, too. She wouldn’t hear of it at first, on account of not having any line dresses; hut I persuaded her that the lights were out in a theatre most of the time, so it wouldn’t matter. Now, there was no doubt about it, I was getting crazy over that girl. Me, who had never been able to think of the same girl twice in my life, and, if I do say it, I had made a little hit with her. too. Pat got up from his chair, rolled another cigarette, and took a cup of coffee. “Let’s see: where was 1? Oh, yes. She always said it was me that turned her luck. Maybe it was; 1 don’t know; but it sure turned. Within a month, her father died in a fit of delirium tremens, and a month later her mother died, too. It nearly busted that girl up in business for fair; but it was best for her the way it turned out. It seems that she had an old uncle who was worth so much that it affected his head—that is, if he hadn’t had a cent, they would have put him in the hat house sure; hut as long as he was worth some million he was eccentric. He had known all along that she was his niece, but wouldn’t see her for dust, oil account of her old man, his brother, being such an old rep. Well, when things left her an orphan, this old duck came to town, and, without letting on who he was, found out that a certain M iss Violet Matson might he found any Saturday night at shop closing time, on the way to, at, or on the way from the Double Kaglc Restaurant. As she comes in, he finds her out from the waiter. Up he walks, and says, in a tone that sounded like a bullfrog with a high soprano voice: “'You arc Miss Violet Matson? I am Mr. Hiram Matson, brother of your father, Jacob Matson, now in hell. I have no children, you have no parents; I want to take care of you. Will you come?’ bawling her out. Hut when she did get over it and looked up at me, I changed my mind so quick that it surprised me. “ ‘Don’t you care, miss,’ I says, 'don’t you mind at all. Y'our check ain’t a very heavy one, and I don’t think it will bust up the business. Just sit down and rest a while. Have a cup of coffee or something to steady you tip a bit. I’ll sec to-morrow if I can’t get that money hack for you. Sit right down here.’ And I pulled a chair up behind the desk. She obeyed like a lost kid, all the time crying like one, too. Little by little I got her talking, and as one thing led to another she told me her story. It was the same old one about her father was a booze fighter and her mother an invalid; and she. not being able to buy enough whisky for dad and medicine for ma, was starving herself. Well, by the time she was quieted and talking sense again, she was pretty willing to let me see her home, and I was pretty willing to take her. I never saw such a face before or since, 'Limey. Such eyes as that girl had, I didn’t think were possible for any one to have. Character, too, it showed in every line of her face—but so sorrowful on the whole. I can’t explain it; she was just different, that’s all. I decided that if that girl could only see a few square meals and one or two good times such as every girl has a right to have, that she would lx the finest looking girl in that town. When I I ACT FOURTHKX

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on the trimmings, ns he called them. Pictures of actresses from the magazines were tacked on to the wall, and curtains put in the windows. “What do you think of my girls there? he asked, nodding at the magazine cuts. “Pretty flossy, all right. The hoes will begin to think there is a married man in camp.” “Married nothing!—not me.” “Were you ever married, Pat? “No. Didn’t I ever tell you?” I told him no, and then waited for one of those stories that had made the evenings of the past few weeks from seven o’clock till early morning pass like a few minutes. Patsy was a man, who, though only thirty years old, had traveled over more of this country than most people do in a lifetime, and had had more experiences than most people want. He had probably, in all that time, not spent fifty dollars in railway fares, and less than that in board bills. He was what he called a “bo”—what you would call a tramp. You would say lie stole his transportation and living—he would sav he just naturally beat it. “Well,” he began, “1 am breaking all rules of a well-mannered gentleman of the road when I tell you this, because it is the truth. 'Pell all the stories about yourself you want, as long as they aren’t true, but keep your mouth shut about your real history, is a well known law among us. This is my true story, though.” He poured himself another cup of coffee, and rolled a cigarette. “My old man owned a restaurant in a fair-sized burg in Illinois. When I got out of the eighth grade, I used to work night shift, and he day. It wasn’t a very swell place, and nights used to be pretty quiet. A good many boes used to drop in to bum a lump and a flop, as they called it (a meal and a bed, in Knglish) ; and I used to treat them pretty good, just so they would tell me stories of the road and how to go at it to travel for weeks at a time on fifty cents capital. 1 got a good deal of information then that has come in handy since, I can tell you. “One night about ten-thirty a girl came in ami ordered a little meal. She was so pale and tired looking that I noticed it at once; but for all that her face had a sort of set look. You know what I mean—kind of a ‘handle at your own risk’ sort of look that made me only glance at her when I knew she wasn’t looking my way. Different fellows have different ways of judging girls, but I guess 1 had one that was pretty near my own. Now, milk toast and tea ain’t no meal for an actress any more than a hot bird and a cold bottle is the order of a tired, quiet little dry goods store clerk; so I judged by this girl’s order of toast and tea that 1 would mind my own business when she came up to the desk. Hut things weren’t to he that way. 1 saw her pick up her check, glance at it, and come towards my seat. She opened her purse, and her face went a little paler than it already was; then it turned red. “|—I haven’t a cent,” she stammered. “1—it must have been stolen at the store, and I had my whole week’s pay in my purse.” Then she burst out crying as if there weren’t no one within a hundred miles, only stopping now and then to say something like, 'Oh, Ix rd, this is one thing too much!' “Now you may think that I should have opened up the till and let her help herself; but that gag had been worked on me four times that week, and I was getting G I r c n E E E FACE THIRTEEN 3C G O



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“Now, I have seen some surprised people in my life, but she put one over on them all. She looked at me, and then at him, and ditto again. “ ‘VVh—wha—what did you say?’ Then he repeats his little speech anain, every word the same; only adds that he kind of likes this burn and will move here if she takes him up—in fact, that he has already bought the Franklin place. “My heart went down ami hit me a rap on the soles of my boots at the thought, and hers, I suppose, went up about as far as it was possible. Of course, the outcome was that she ‘accepted with pleasure the kind invitation,' etc. She could hardly come down to the shop any more, but I had a standing invitation to go up there. My little ten plunks a week looked awful small to me. Hut she was just the same friend as ever—ami say, bo—looks? Why, there was nothing on God’s earth that old duck didn’t buy for her, and there was nothing along the line of silks and satins that she put on but what made her look a little more like some princess. Nothing around that part of the country could come within a hundred mile of looking anything like her. 1 never saw the town set talking like it was then, except once, and that once came about two years later. It seemed that Vi and I were going to smash that rule about the course of true love all to thunder. “It seems that the old duck was a collector of tapestries. He used to show me his and talk about them by the hour sometimes, and then begin over again. There was one he used to rave over, that he didn't have in his collection. It was owned by a German count, who was bringing it over personally, clear from Kuropc, to sell to him. “Sure enough, in about a month over comes the count, tapestry and all. He was a little jigger, about six feet two inches tall, and a moustache like a cloud of smoke reaching up to his eyes. He was all bows and medals, and pretty talk in broken Knglish, and silk hats. He was the one thing that shook up the town more than Violet’s great luck. Gosh! how they talked! “Of course, all his attentions in the line of five-pound boxes of candy and dozens of American Beauties turned my girl’s head some and made me look like a dirty deuce in a new deck; so I just kept away. I was (lead crazy in love with that girl, there is no doubt about that. So I throws up all hut one night in a week, ami on that one night I goes over ami listens to talk about how perfectly lovely the count was. I tried to turn the talk about myself once: “‘I’ve kind of lost my show with the fine lady, haven’t 1?' I says. I alwax’s called her line lady when I wanted to tease her. “ ‘Why, of course not, you silly. You are just the same old friend as ever. Did I show you the new bracelet the count gave me?’ With that I decided that my goose was cooked, and left the house about ten minutes later. “I buttoned up my coat, and ran home. Throwing some clothes in a bag. I went down to the restaurant and wrote a check in favor of my father for the seven hundred dollars I saved up in the hank for Vi and me. I left this with a note saying I wasn’t coming back and to tell my friends that 1 had gone to seek my fortune. Then I took about forty dollars out of the cash drawer, and left on the next train for San Francisco. From that time to this I have been on the hum—and now you have my story.” G I T C n E G U E E I’.ACE FIFTEEN

Suggestions in the University of Wisconsin Superior - Gitche Gumee Yearbook (Superior, WI) collection:

University of Wisconsin Superior - Gitche Gumee Yearbook (Superior, WI) online collection, 1907 Edition, Page 1

1907

University of Wisconsin Superior - Gitche Gumee Yearbook (Superior, WI) online collection, 1908 Edition, Page 1

1908

University of Wisconsin Superior - Gitche Gumee Yearbook (Superior, WI) online collection, 1909 Edition, Page 1

1909

University of Wisconsin Superior - Gitche Gumee Yearbook (Superior, WI) online collection, 1911 Edition, Page 1

1911

University of Wisconsin Superior - Gitche Gumee Yearbook (Superior, WI) online collection, 1912 Edition, Page 1

1912

University of Wisconsin Superior - Gitche Gumee Yearbook (Superior, WI) online collection, 1913 Edition, Page 1

1913


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