The Portland daily press., 1883-01-20

surprise, my old sch 1ofellew, Sandie Mac
nh rson. Our eyes met, but his stony eyes
gave no sign of recognition. Then he turn
ed to the paper again, and smiled Yes, he
was reading my letter. 1t might astonish
the public, but it could not impose upon
him. There were Latin and Greek quota
tions in it, and fragments of moral philoso.
ply; how ashamed felt of them. as | saw
them come under his baleful eye? He smiled
again, placed down the paper, paid his reck-
oning, and walked out of the shop without
word. went home miserable man. /
mlghtput on grand airs before the public,
but one man knew my measure, and that
man was Sande Macpherson.
1T was no use arguing with myself that
the man was an idiot; that, although heswas
glib at uptaking what was taught him, he
had neither talent nor originality. The
memory of those early days haunted me like
shadow.
81 am not going to weary you-and my
self-with history of my literary struggles,
till / senquered the book-taster, the maya
zine editor and the publisher, and became
recognized producer of the popular literary
article. Years passed away. In the course
of years l emigrated TO London, on the invi-
tation of John Still, the philosopher. Then
| published my first book, and, as | have
told you, it was failure. | retrieved my
self by the second, which was about half as
good, and not near as earnest, as the first.
| still had Glasgow and Sandie Macpherson
IT, my mind when / failed or succeeded, but
in the course of time the impression grew
DINNER and DINNER. 1t was one fine day
that John Still, returning from the North,
where he had been featuring on some
political subject, spoke to me as follows:
s. BY the way, Ercildoune, met an old
sohool-feliow of yours in Glasgow
" 'Ay, indeed?' l said, feeling the blood
mount to my face in a moment.
"A man named Macpherson, a small
tradesman, and member of the local club
which took me down. A prosy fe low and very
sarcastic. He amused me very much with
dry "reminiscences of your school days, and
seemed greatly astonished that you had
made your mark in the world
81 forced a laugh, but felt hot and cold
all over.
6 Do you remember himp proceeded
Still. He remembers you wonderfully?'
am not sure, / returned, with care
lessness. i believe there was lad of that
name in the class with me, but I've almost
forgotten him. Its-it's long time agop
"Hypocrite that I was! Did John still
know that was lying? He locked at me
for some moments with an amused smile, as
if be we're calling up some queer remini-
SCIENCES; and II could have Drained him.
Some little time after that John Still and /
fell out. He wrote criticism of Suckle's
History of Civilization and published it
in the radical Lambeth Review. / handled
the same book next quarter in the Caledon-
ian, and turned Stills arguments inside out
IN no very complimentary fashion. Still was
very sensitive man, and while after that
he cut me dead in the street. We made it
up afterward, but were never the same as
before. Till the day of his death, never
gave him any explanation. cared no more
for Suckle or his arguments than for the fly
on the wall. Suckle, indeed-the Door.
real cause for my attack on John Still, was
anger and irritation. Sandie Macpherson,
again, was at the bottom of it all
"a year or so after this / went down to
Glasgow on business. By that time had
made name for myself land my visit caused
stir in the city. l stayed with Sir Robert
MuDgo. the Lord Provost-a silly man, with
staggering taste for philosophy. After a
few days, grew weary of being lionized
for nearly every time there was grand din
ner, and was bored to death with the adj
miration of daft folk of both sexes. One
forenoon, as | was wandering about the
streets, looking at the old houses, and call
ing to mind the places had known when a
lad, passed down the Gallowgate, and saw
the name of Alexander Macpherson over a
small grocer's shop. Now, was in a sym-
pathetic mood that day; the contemplation
OF old scenes, and the thought of he kind
ness of my countrymen, b ad touched my
heart, and it melted suddenly at the name
of my old schoolfellow. Could it possibly
be the same? Before l knew what | was
doing, had entered the shop.
eyes, I was right. There, standing BE-
hind the cnuntar was Sandia hip,scIH 1Ido.
grimmer, but neat and clean as usual, AS
l entered in he was measuring out a pound
of moist sugar for a barefooted servant las.
sic, i'll petticoat and short gown.
Mr.. Macpherson said, when he had
done.
HE looked up, and our eyes met. saw
in moment that he recognized me- but his
face remained grim as granite and his eye
was cold as ice
"'rhats my name,' he replied.
Il smiled, and prepared to hold out my
hand.
81 think we were old schoolmates togeth-
er. Ny name is Ercildoune, Thomas Ercil-
doune. Do you remember me?
HE looked at me from head to foot. His
eye rested on my old cloak, my broad
brimmed hat, and he nodded darkly as he
replied:
Isl mind ye well enough. Can serve ye
with anything?
Nothing, thanks; only-I was passing,
and thought l should like to remind you
of our old cquaintanceship.'
'sAs spoke, Sandie proceeded leisurely
with his business behind the counter-opened
his till and looked into it; took down piece
of loaf sugar, and began breaking it into
small portions. He gave sort of grunt as
finished my address to him, and nodded
again; then, after pause, while I stood
hesitating, he observed quietly, surveying
me critically from head to foot:
You're staying up in London, I hear?'
eyes
YOU'RE what they call a leeterary man,
noo?'
"'Just So ! replied, smiling good-na-
turedly, but feeling rathea ashamed.
"'A weel,' said Sandie refectively, as he
swept up his pieces of sugar and putting
them iuto large Jar, "a weel, London's a
big place, and they call it the centre of ceev-
ilization; but here he shut the lid of the
jar sharply-'mony things please the folk in
London that wouldna gang doom in Giles
gowp
what he meant could hardlygather; il
was mere general reflection, but [ felt
somehow that it had personal application.
A long pause ensued. l stood awkwardly
waiting in front of the counter, but Sandie
ulu MOI Seeu Inclined IOr Iurthef converse
ton. At last, feeling rather uncomfortable,
l determined to put an end to the interview
swell, I'll wish you good morning. !
said, moving to the shop door.
"'Good morning., grunted Sandie, not
raising his eyes from his desk and ledger, 70
which he had just gone.
II walked out of the shop, indignant at
the mans mperturbability. CHANGING back
from the pavement, | saw Sandie's face
quietly regarding me over his ledger-and
smiling-just as it had smiled when l saw
him reading my first effort in literature. He
was certainly quite irreconcilabe.
"About this period of my career, as you
may remember, l was particularly severe in
my writings on the British Philistine, and
on the sordid, self-conceited, money-grab-
bling secularity of the trading classes in this
country. l denounced the. hypocrisies Of
Sodom and the fieshpots of Gomorrah. The
press took up my cry, and Philistinism bad
bad time of it. Poor idiots, they thought
that l had grievance against society,
Nothing of the kind. was only trying to
have my revenge on Sandie Macpherson.
"For, wrestle as might against him, the
1 Il