“Hello, what's this!” exclaimed a Lewiston sewing-machine agent, as he picked a pill-box out of the drawer of a sewing-machine, Thursday morning, and unscrewing the lid disclosed a very pretty gold locket. “She didn't happen to open the the box, now did she.” continued he, musing. Finally, when he got ready, this was the story that he told. The sewing machine was rented to a Lewiston woman who shortly after receiving it, died and was buried. The household was broken up and the house girl claiming the machine, was allowed to have it removed. The family scattered, the sewing-machine man lost trace of the machine and so far as any income to him it might as well have been interred with the woman who hired it. The other day, however, he got a clue of it. It was still in the possession of the house girl, and one day recently the sewing-machine agent stopped before her door, told her of his discovery of the little game, and like a sensible girl she made plain and satisfactory the explanation and delivered over the machine. Preliminary to doing this, however, she ransacked the drawers of the machine. Everything of value was hers. Of all the many things in them, only a few did she leave. Among them was the pill-box which she tossed over with a remark, “I don't take pills. That ain't mine.” The pill-box when opened, revealed the gold locket.
Lewiston Evening Journal, Lewiston, Maine, May 6, 1886