to us; and Mrs. Trotter seemed to be tired of the job. A good many
suitors had been calling to see her, and she didn't seem to like that.

"So we decides to pull out, and I goes down to Mrs. Trotter's hotel to
pay her last week's salary and say farewell and get her check for the
$2,000.

"When I got there I found her crying like a kid that don't want to go
to school.

"'Now, now,' says I, 'what's it all about? Somebody sassed you or you
getting homesick?'

"'No, Mr. Peters,' says she. 'I'll tell you. You was always a friend
of Zeke's, and I don't mind. Mr. Peters, I'm in love. I just love a
man so hard I can't bear not to get him. He's just the ideal I've
always had in mind.'


[Illustration: "'Mr. Peters, I'm in love.'"]


"'Then take him,' says I. 'That is, if it's a mutual case. Does he
return the sentiment according to the specifications and painfulness
you have described?'

"'He does,' says she. 'But he's one of the gentlemen that's been
coming to see me about the advertisement and he won't marry me unless
I give him the $2,000. His name is William Wilkinson.' And then she
goes off again in the agitations and hysterics of romance.