Devils Lake inter-ocean. (Devils Lake, Ramsey Co., Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1905, 1885-01-03
The Story OF a Humorist.

AAc oOOGS VI GAutllOrISC.
Williamstown, where Williams col
lege is situated, lies snugly nestled i'll
among the cluster of purple giants
known as the Berkshire Hills. After
the college commencement is over the
town is filled during the summer by q
crowd of pleasure-seckers, and has
quite a reputation as a summer resort.
I had gone up to attend a class re-
union, and, having a week or two to
while away until I went back to my
desk, concluded to spend them loafing
around where l was. The college halls
were empty, and but few of the sum-
mer visitors had arrived, so I spent the
greater part of the time under the large
trees in front of the library. As 1 lay
there one afternoon watching the jaunty
sparrows fit in and out the ivy on the
chapel walls l saw, stumbling along
the walk, a man who was evidently
strongly charged with New England
rum. He seemed conscious Of ny
scrutiny, as he suddenly wheeled
around and stared steadily back at
me.
George Kane" I cried out, half to
myself and half to him. "George!'
How are You, Browne?" Tin a
sheepish tone). "What'r you doing
hereP"
If you were in Washington five years
ago you surely remember George Kane,
He was the wittiest and brightest man
in the ranks OF the pencil-pushers. He
never wrote anything that was not eager
ly read and laughed over. A merry
| sprite seemed to dwell in his quill, and
he always had 4 joke at his tongues
end. He was Menus on earth again.
And it was this happy laughter that
stood on the walk near the steps of the
library with blinking eyes and shaky
knees, looking like Il drrary tramp just
risen from a bed in the gutter: stupid,
swaying from side to side. withh his head
tilted on II side: this was George Kane,
whom we considered q giant of journal
ism. and a word from whom would send
us youthful journalists into the seventh
heaven of delight!
II suppose you're seeking inspiration
from the grand old h-hills,' he said
with a lurch; som inspiration with
a little sh-sugar II it,
And then seeing my look of astonish-
ment at his plight. Come, come.
youngs,er. is this the first time you've
seen a man full? Haven't YOU any
place to get myself decent in?'
took him to my room and tried the
usual remedies is such cases, bat he
seemed TO grow only more maudlin.
He wept ove me, and called me q
"a zcmplery fren'," and US Il last re-
sort | made him come out with me and
walk up one of the mountain roads.
He talked necessarily, cursed the dusty
roads, laughed at the buds, whistled to
the ~chipmunkS, cried about the pine
giants, and admired the sunset, and
when we reached the top of the noun
tain road he stopped abruptly and sa,
down by the little mountain brook un.
der a grand old pine, and told me hit
story.
He had come to Washington with 6
young wife whom he loved madly, anC
whose slightest wish was his law.
Newspaper work kept him away from
her the greater part of the time, and
she found other company. One day he
came home and found an empty house.
He saw her once afterward, as she
whirled past him behind a magnificent
pair of horses along one of the avenues.
II tried hard to find her. Browne" he
said. Indeed did. loved her toe
much to let her CO." But he never hac
found her, nor see her face again.
And yet, with his awful sorrow alway!
by his side, he laughed his heartiest
and kept his world of readers in a con
slant grin. II couldn't cry, so l hac
to laugh. would have gone mad if
hadn't. l tried to keep the blue devil.
away with my pen. l wrote and wrote,
pose they laugh all the time there.
have tried drinking lately, but it's nc
use, and l think I shall try water
%soon,' with a horribly significant ges
ture toward the river, lying far dowr
below u in the valley. So he ramblet
on in an aimless way, with many. hor
rible, almost blasphemous jests unit
the valley lay in darkness beneath u.
and the dark arch above us twinkled
with a Thousand stars. We descend.
ed in silence until we neared the hotel
A stylish dog-cart just then passed US,
in which sat a lady alone. George Kane
ran from my side to the horses head
and stopped it.
Mary he cried: ''for Gods sake
Mary listen to me"
The woman half rose at the sound o.
his voice, and then with her whip up.
raised, in a hard voice, brazen and loud,
answered him:
80. get out OF my way, George
Kane!'
He let the rein go, and stood there
irresolute and miserable. The light
from a hotel window fell on his face.
There was no laughter there now
White, distorted, haggard, and weary
of life, a face l can never forget, and
when the whip descended with a hiss
and the frightened horse sprang for
ward, it went down. and was crushed
in the dust of the road. The horse,
with a furious gallop, rushed along tie
rough road; the dog-cart pitched this
side and that, and finally was over.
turned. and two days afterward George
Kane lay in the college cemetery buried
beside his wife.-G. Il. Copeland. tn
WASHINGTON Ratchet.
A Nobiemnn's Cheek