lls and went out with the boys for a good time, only to fall down
stairs and break his ankle. After three weeks' suffering he hobbled into
the broker's office. Greetings were exchanged with the regulars, then he
sought the cashier to draw the balance of his pork money. This account
being settled the cashier said to him, "Pickett, what are you going to
do with that corn?"

"What corn?"

"Why that corn you bought at 31 cents the day you broke your ankle."

"I did not buy any corn, did I?"

"Yes, you did, and there is to your credit $7,000."

"Seven thousand dollars!" shouted Pickett, and before any answer could
be made he ordered the deal closed, then went out and bought a fast
"hoss," a pair of checked trousers, a silk hat, and hunted up the girl
who immediately became Mrs. Pickett as soon as the necessary formalities
could be arranged. But the seven thousand dollars did not last long and
the support of a wife was more than Pickett bargained for. Matters grew
very serious and Mrs. Pickett found she had either to go to work in some
clerkship capacity, or start a boarding house or peanut and candy store
near some school house. She chose the boarding house, which soon merged
into a swell private hotel, and it was in the "Addington" that Chiquita
saw a phase of life so common to the man of the world and the bachelor
girl charging full tilt into the twentieth century.

"Mrs. Pickett, please tell me a little of yourself, that I may
understand why the white sister has no husband to care for her as other
white sisters have."

It was about three months after Chiquita had taken up her residence at
the "Addington." The two were on one of the porches which overlook the
lake on the north shore in a most beautiful location near Sheridan
drive.

"It is a long story, but I can make it very brief in words, although the
years have been filled with events which handicap a woman of my age in
looks and spirit, and that handicap will make the story seem longer to
me than to a listener."

"Don't skip any of the incidents, will you? I mean those portions where
the Christian spirit upheld you in your grief and sadness."

"I was young. Mr. Pickett's fast horse must share the blame for a
portion of the admiration I became possessed of for Mr. Pickett. Then he
was such a swell dresser, a good singer and at that time a Board of
Trade man, at least I thought so, and when he showed me that pile of
money and said 'Junie, let's get married,'