The Fatal Glove by Clara Augusta Jones Trask


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The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Fatal Glove, by Clara Augusta Jones Trask


This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net





Title: The Fatal Glove


Author: Clara Augusta Jones Trask

Release Date: June 4, 2005 [eBook #15989]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1


***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FATAL GLOVE***


E-text prepared by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier, Mary Meehan, and the
Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
(http://www.pgdp.net)



Transcriber's note: After "The Fatal Glove" is a short story titled
"Constitutionally Bashful." The author was not
identified.





THE FATAL GLOVE

by

CLARA AUGUSTA

Author of "The Rugg Documents," "Patience Pettigrew's Perplexities," etc.

1892







PART I.


Arch Trevlyn had had a good day. Business had been brisk. The rain had
fallen steadily since daybreak, and the street-crossings in New York were
ankle deep in mud. The little street-sweeper's arms ached fearfully, but
his pocket was full of pennies, interspersed with an occasional
half-dime.

The clouds were breaking in the west, and a gleam of sunshine gilded the
tall tower of St. John's. Arch shouldered his broom, and whistled a merry
tune as he took his way homeward. His bright dark eyes sparkled as he
thought how the sight of his earnings would cheer his feeble mother. She
could have tea now, with real milk and some sugar in it, and an orange,
too. Only yesterday she was wishing she had an orange.

Arch's way led past a horticultural store, and his eye wandered longingly
over the display of flowers in the window. He must have just one wee
white rose, because, only the Sabbath before, while he sat at his
mother's feet, she had wept in telling him about the sweet roses that
used to grow under the window of the little country cottage where her
happy youth had been spent.

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