New Ulm Weekly Review

A SUSPENDED ELOPEMENT
I had loved Bella for more than a year. When I say that I was over twenty-five, my readers of the sterner sex will, I am sure, be impressed by my constancy.

Bella had money. Not that this had of course, anything to do with my extraordinary devotion, but it served for a time to be the barrier in our happiness.

I first met and fell a victim to Bella's charms when her mother was alive. Her father had then been dead several years. The old lady took to me. I have a knack of getting on with old ladies. This is a very useful gift when they are well off, and are the mothers of lovely daughters. I advise all young men to cultivate it. The main point is always to be more attentive to the mother than the daughter. It is well to throw in occasional remarks about the apparent degeneracy of the age, and allude to the superior constitutions and characters of the preceding generation.

All was working smoothly for Bella and me, when cruel fate, in the shape of a drunken car-driver, crushed the mother under its Juggernautian wheels.

We prosecuted the driver, and an intelligent jury, largely influenced by the wealth of the car company, decided that pedestrians have no rights which car-drivers are bound to respect.

It turned out, by her father's will Bella, in the event of her mother's death, was, until her twenty-first year, to be placed under the guardianship of an uncle, who was a farmer in Vermont.

This same uncle was an admirable specimen of the typical Vermonter. He could freeze to the chance of making a dollar harder than a lobster's claw to a small boy's investigating finger. He had two great hulking sons, and determined that Bella should marry one or the other. Indeed he believed he was acting most kindly in giving her a choice instead of insisting on her taking the first-born. When old Green found out that I had come into the neighborhood and was hanging about the premises he sternly warned me off, and even hinted at the fierceness and number of the dogs which populated his yard at night. I took his word for the dogs- it was about the only thing I would have taken it for.

Bella was virtually a prisoner. The old farm house was three stories high- a very unusual thing in that part of the country-and she was locked in at night in her room on the top floor.

With great difficulty I managed to get one or two letters to her; but so closely was she watched and guarded during the day that speech with her was impossible. I was in despair. There was yet a year to run before she could claim release from this guardianship. Was there no means of escape possible?

While I was pondering over this question in the little hotel where I had now been staying for some weeks. I heard a strange voice addressed to the proprietor in loud tones, and I distinctly heard the words "portable fire-escape."

Instantly an inspiration flashed through my mind. I joined the party, and in doing so heard these words:

"It's just the simplest thing in the world. A two-year-old babe couldn't hurt itself. No sir, it 'ud like to have one for a plaything, and 'ud amuse it-self all day hauling itself to the top o' the house and lettin' itself down again. They're so light and easy, that when folks don't want escapes I often sells them as baby-jumpers. Jest try one; it's only $4.50. Make it for you, as an advertisement, sein' you keeps a hotel, and you'd ought to have one for the protection of your guests."

"Guess not. My place is only two stories high; and if we have a fire, they can jump out or burn, just as they durn please." And the careful hotel-keeper strolled off.

"What have you there, my friend?" I asked of the stranger.

"A portable fire-escape. Simplest thing in the world. But I was fooled to come to this section, anyhow. There isn't a house high enough for a man to hurt himself much if he rolled off the roof, and a Vermonter 'ud sooner take chances on his life than spend a dime, any day."

"I'll tell you how you can sell one escape for $20 and no trouble either."

"You will! I'm your oyster."

I unfolded my plot, and found a sympathetic listener. He was to go up to Bella's uncle's house and try to sell an escape. Of course, we knew that would be perfectly hopeless. So, after being rebuffed, he was to insist on leaving one on trial for a week or two, till he came around again. He was also to try to smuggle a letter to Bella, explaining that she was at night to get possession of the escape, attach it to her bedstead, and slide down into my waiting arms, which would be waiting as near as the dogs would let them. On the night she was ready, she was to signal in a certain way with a candle at the window.

The peddler started off, and soon returned, having been successful in getting the letter to Bella, and having given an exhibition of how to use the escape.

vain for the signal, but at last it was shown. I did not hear the dogs about, and I gently crept nearly under the window. It was opened.

"Are you there, Bella?" I whispered

"Yes."

"You're not afraid, dear?"

Not very. I've tied the end around the bedstead, and I don't think I can slip out of the loops. Have you a buggy waiting?"

"Yes, dear; at the first turn of the road."

"Very well. I am going to try now. Oh!"

She had launched herself off from the side and was descending beautifully.

"Don't come too fast, dear. Use the check rope if you feel you are coming too quickly."

She had got to the second floor, when there was an unaccountable stoppage.

"What's the matter?" I cried.

"It won't move."

"Shake the rope."

"I have."

"Loosen the check."

"It is quite loose."

"Try to pull up a bit."

"I can't; I'm stuck fast."

"Let me shake the rope."

"Try. Oh! oh! It's no use; it won't move."