but they were
doing nicely, because Clyde took most of his meals with his thoughtful
friends--and then crash out of a clear sky a horrible tragedy happened
that for a minute darkened the whole world.

Yes, it was a bitter tragedy. Clyde's two-year-old dress suit, that
he was bravely wearing without a murmur, had needed pressing and she
promised to do it; but she overslept herself till seven-thirty that
morning, which made her late at the store, so she'd asked the girl in
this rooming house to do it down in the kitchen. The girl had been
willing but weak-minded. She started with too hot an iron and didn't
put a damp cloth between the iron and the goods. In the midst of the
job something boiled over on the stove. She got rattled and jumped for
that, and when she come back the dress coat of darling Clyde was branded
for fair in the middle of the back--a nifty flatiron brand that you could
of picked him out of a bunch of animals by in one second. The girl was
scared stiff and hung the clothes back in the closet without a word. And
poor Clyde discovered the outrage that night when he was dressing for a
class reunion of his dear old Alvah Mater.

I had to read between the lines some, but I gathered that he now broke
down completely at this betrayal of his trusting nature. Vida must of
been suffering too keenly herself to write me all the pitiful details.
And right on top of this blow comes the horrible discovery, when he takes
his mandolin out of the case, that it has been fatally injured in the
moving. One blow right on another. How little we realize the suffering
that goes on all about us in this hard world. Imagine the agony in that
furnished room this night!

Clyde wasn't made of iron. When the first flood of grief subsided he
seems to of got cold and desperate. Said Vida in this letter: "My heart
stopped when he suddenly declared in cool, terrible tones: 'There's
always the river!' I could see that he had resolved to end it all, and
through the night I pleaded with my boy."

I bet she made mistakes as a grocer's cashier next day, but it was worth
it because her appeals to Clyde's better nature had prevailed. He did
disappear that day, getting his trunks from the house while she was at
the store and not being able to say good-bye because he couldn't remember
which store she was accepting a situation at. But he left her a nice
note. He wasn't going to end it all in the river. He was going off on the
private steamboat o