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When Caroline Meeber boarded the afternoon train for Chicago, her total outfit consisted of a small trunk, a cheap imitation alligator-skin satchel, a small lunch in a paper box, and a yellow leather snap purse, containing her ticket, a scrap of paper with her sister's address in Van Buren Street, and four dollar in money. It was in August, 1889.
" What is it you want?" he inquired. Carrie's heart sank. " You said I should come this morning to see about work-" " Carrie Meeber." " Yes," said he. " You come with me." He led the way through dark, box-lined aisles which had the smell of new shoes, until they came to an iron door which opened into the factory proper.
Here lies the field of his finest victories, here and in those adjacent tracts of other books which are nearest this simple method: his representation of old Gerhardt and of Aaron Berchansky in The Hand of the Potter; numerous sketches of character in that broad pageant A Hoosier Holiday; the tenderly conceived record of Caroline Meeber, wispy and witless as she often is; the masterly study of Hurstwood's deterioration in Sister Carrie this last the peak among all Mr.
"This is the house I travel for," he went on, pointing to a picture on it, "corner of State and Lake." There was pride in his voice. He felt that it was something to be connected with such a place, and he made her feel that way. "What is your address?" he began again, fixing his pencil to write. She looked at his hand. "Carrie Meeber," she said slowly.
When Caroline Meeber boarded the afternoon train for Chicago, her total outfit consisted of a small trunk, a cheap imitation alligator-skin satchel, a small lunch in a paper box, and a yellow leather snap purse, containing her ticket, a scrap of paper with her sister's address in Van Buren Street, and four dollars in money. It was in August, 1889.
Brown came up. He did not seem to recognise her. "What is it you want?" he inquired. Carrie's heart sank. "You said I should come this morning to see about work " "Oh," he interrupted. "Um yes. What is your name?" "Carrie Meeber." "Yes," said he. "You come with me."
"This is the house I travel for," he went on, pointing to a picture on it, "corner of State and Lake." There was pride in his voice. He felt that it was something to be connected with such a place, and he made her feel that way. "What is your address?" he began again, fixing his pencil to write. She looked at his hand. "Carrie Meeber," she said slowly.
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