“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
