The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1886-10-20
THE PAWNED WATCH.
BY REBECCA HARDING DAVIS.

hhRDlNO
"Taking the line 8, 4 as the
base, p
David Kershaw's eyes wandered from
the hook to the window. There was
nothing to b. seen there but red brick
wall. about three feet distant. Then they
travelled wearily over the walls Of his
room, with their soiled red and yellow
paper, the bare floor, the cheap pine
table pi!el with books, the cot bed in
the corner.
''If one had even fire or stovcw he
mu,ttred, kicking at the black grating
of the register, through which feeble
supply of warm air crept into the room.
lie took up his book, scrowling impa-
tiently.
"If takes, 4 as the basc"- AMI
again the hook dropped on his knee.
'rour years of this! Four years of ut
ter solitude! You've taken too big q
contract, Dave: You can't go through
with it," and he fell to staring gloomily
at the bricks outside of the window.
David kershaw was country boy,
used to a free, outdoor life, to big
house, with roaring fires, ard 10 4 large,
gay family OF young people He had
been working for years for the money to
carry him through college, and had come
up to begin his ooirse three months ago
He had not an acquaintance in the
great city. He rented this attic room,
bought his dinner for ten or fifteen cents
at cheap eating house, and ate crackers
and cheese for breakfast and supper. His
clothes were coarse and ill-ftting, and
he was painfully conscious of it, and held
him elf haughtily aloof from his fellow
students. College lads are not apt to
break through any shell of pride and sui
lenne to find the good fellow beneath.
They simply let David alone, with care
less indifference more CALLING than dis.
like.
lie rlodded silently from the college
to his bare room, and thence to the mis-
cradle eating house day after day.
Being naturally a genial, friendly fel-
low. the thought of the four long, lonely
years to come sickened him.
lie threw up the window presently,
and put his head cut to catch q glimpse
of the street into which the alley opened.
A young man on horseback passed at the
moment. 1t was Jourdan Kitchener,
one of his class. Hc rode blooded
mare, and was fully equipped in cordu-
roy coat and knickerbockcrs, cream col
ored leg .ings, and gauutlets.
"A regular swell.' thought kershaw,
laughing good -humoredly. He had no.
ticed this Cr1 sus of the college before.
"Hc has coed strong face. Well,
luck's unevenly Y divided in this world"
taking up his book with sigh.
Half an hour later there was knock
at the door. David opened it, expect
ing to sec his landlady, but there stood
Mitchener, smiling, whip in hand.
'>"Mr. Kershaw2" lifting his hat.
ASHAMED not to have known you be-
fore, but there are such lot of lis fel
lows, you know. Thanks, yes,' taking
chair. "My mother saw your name in
. catalogue, and sent me to tel you
that your mother and she were school
mates and friends, Daisy' and Lilly
that sort of thing, believe. My mother
married city man, and for that reason,
during the years that have pas:ed, has
lost sight of her old schoolmates who
lived away from the CITY,"
Sand my mother married farmer,
and has been poor all of her life,' inter-
ruptcd David, morosely.
'Yes, yes. American life! Up day
and down tomorrow" carelessly.
Something in Mitchener's MANNER made
his wealth and David's poverty appear
psltry accidents, to which they, as men,
were loftily superior. Before they had
been together ten minutes, David felt
his morbid gloom disappear. He began
to talk naturally and laugh heartily.
"This Mitche er was a thorough good
fellow" he wrote home that night
"Was not conscious, apparently, that he
was worth dollar"
The truth was that Jourdan fully ap-
preciated the value of his fathers great
wealth, but he was a we'll bred and cour-
teous young fellow, and knew how to
put poor and awkward lad at ease.
nershaw was invited to dinner at Mrs
Mitchener's on Sunday. He went about
the next day after this dinner in daze
of delight, a. if he had been passing
through golden mist and had brought
some of it still clinging to him. He
hummcd tune, as he porcd over his
problems. He did not see the bare floor
and hideous wall-papcr, but the beauti-
home in which he had been treated
as an honored guest. The Persian car
pets, the statuary. the table brilliant with
flowers and silver, even the delicious fla,
vors Of the dishes fingered gratefully on
his long-starvei palate. He had met,
too, women more charming and men
more geDtiy-bred than any he had evel
known before.
What a world they lived in! He was
even yet bewildered by his glimpse into
it. Every luxury and delight waited on
the lifting of their hands. Libraries,
galleries OF art, operas. balls, voyages to
Europe, to the Nile! This was life. lie
wanted more of it. more of it.
Mrs. Mitchncr had asked him to co nc
often; had offered to introduce him TO
her friends, "a gay young set" she said.
He walked up and down the room,
flushed and painting. He had never
dreamed of such world! He must see
more of it! How stale and dull the
Latin and mathematics seemed now!
But how to compass it? He could not
70 again without dress, suit He had
seen cne that day in a second hand shop,
very 2':c p Ills blood gscw hot at thc
idea of wearing some other mans cast-off
clothes, but he pashed that thought
saidc.
How could he raise the money! Hc
drew out his watch. 1t was gold one,
the one luxurious possession in the fam,