Pittsburg, Pa., July 1, 1899.
Dear Jim:
I have something to tell you, and it's not necessary to stand
on the courthouse steps at high noon and do the human phonograph
act, as it's strictly under your bonnet. One evening about three
years ago, before Johnny and I had moved to our new flat, I had
turned in kind of early, as I had been to the Cabinet-Makers' Ball
at Turner's Hall the night before, and it had been a great success.
I was wakened by Johnny beating me and asking me to shake hands.
He was dancing around like a crazy man, and as soon as I fairly
got my eyes opened I guessed the cause. Little Nellie Morrison
had told him she loved him, and they were engaged. My! but Johnny
was happy and important. Well, sir, he just kept me up till two
o'clock, telling me all their plans. It wasn't very hard to do,
either, for although I tried to appear kind of careless, I was
as much excited as Johnny. It was just six months later that
poor little Nell was taken out dead from that big wreck over
East. Well, now comes the trouble. Johnny Black loves that little
girl just as much as he did the day she was brought back home.
So far as the boys are concerned, he has hidden it fairly well.
They think he is over it, but, Jim, he's getting worse. Last night
I came in about twelve, and there sat Johnny curled up in the big
chair you gave me last Christmas. He had cried himself to sleep,
and in his hand was a picture of Nell. There she was in a little
white dress, smiling up at him just as she used to before it all
happened. I leaned over and touched him as gently as I could, and
said, "Come on to bed, Johnny." He never answered a word. He placed
the picture in his pocket, and I led him off to his room. He didn't
speak until just before he put out his light, and then he said,
"You know, Bill, I used to tell her all my schemes, and she was
so kind, and how she did want to see me a success. You know how
things are coming, Bill, and I'd like to see her just a minute
and have her cuddle up and say, 'I knew my boy was all right.'"
What was I going to do? I don't know anything about consoling
people, so I just said, "Never mind, Johnny; you and I'll take
a trip and try to forget it." Jim, it's been over two years now,
and he loves her more than ever. What I want you to do is to write
him and tell him to take a rest. He can afford it easily enough.
Every time he looks at anything somebody gallops in and hands him
a check. Do this, will you Jim?
Yours as ever,
Billy.