San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-06-06

COuHIIy bO"u HO", DcllcNe, puO-
tographs. A great artist the major says.
She's dull girl, fancy. Women without
brains have to scratch hard for living now
adays"
Mr. Proctor did not care to enter into the
woman question. He stood whistling under
his BREATH with some queer ideas in his cler-
ical head, which Mr.. Withrow would have
hardly thought beftted it They grew out
of the remembrance of those Saturday after
Moons when, for year after year, he used to
escape from boarding school and repair to
that same cockloft over the warehouse, there
to feel himself Gypsy or Crusoe for a few
delicious hours What a vagabond uncer-
tain life it was! the poverty, the shifts, the
fun, the inextinguishable jollity and tender
love under it all! What prince the major
and Madeline made of him-Saving all week
to compass the Saturdays roast chicken and
cranberry TART Proctor had never known
father or mother; his ideas of love or home
were all drawn from poor Standish and his
crazy menage So strong was this boyish in
stinct in him Just now that he actually stood
breathless when anybody resembling the
major came in sight. If the old man should
not recognize him, or should meet him with
the formal Difference of other respectable
people, why, then, good-by to that old boy
hood, so horribly dear and disreputable!
Now the ma Or was in a restaurant a few
doors down the street. 'Try an advertise
ment in The Camera, SAM" he said to the
bookkeeper. Il swear it will pay you like
like His talk halted; the ideas seemed
to stagger through his brain.
Il believe you've had drop too much,
Standish," said Sam.
mo; I've had to stop drinking. You
can't get glass of champagne fit for gen.
tleman in this accused town. But about
the advertisements" The Camera paid him
a small percentage on this sort of business,
and few cents now would buy him his din
ner.)
No"
The major leaned on the glass counter for
moment. It was two days since he had
tasted food. The steam of savorv dishes be-
low was too much for him. a collapsed
stomach in a powerful frame like his is
deadly drag upon mans pluck He looked
at Sam. The fellow would give him his dim
ner if he asked it, he knew.
He gathered himself up with an effort.
I'D steal, but can't beg" he said, silently.
He nodded atfably to Sam, and filliped to the
parrot as he went out. His high featured,
usually ford face, had turned cold and blue
under the mustache and whiSkers, but he
carried himself jauntily.
John Proctor saw him as soon as he stepped
on the street. There was the identical broad
cloth suit cut twenty years ago, and the vast
expanse of shirt bosom, frayed in the DlaitS,
but Immediately white. The ma or was a
property OF the town, we'll known as the city
clock. With his bushy white name, his inn
posing shoulders, his lofty bow, he radiated
and filled the pavement from wall to curb.
Proctor thought the old man would be glad
to see him, but he certainly had not expected
the strange effect which the sight of him pro-
duced. Standish stopped as though he had
been struck blow, holding him off at arms
length. His pOmpoSity seemed to suddenly
drop from him.
"Why, Jack! jack" he stammered, 81 did
not look to see you. | beg your pardon, Mr..
Proctor. l forget drawing back, yet still
holding the young mans coat sleeve with
what would have been very like a careSs in
a woman
'Forgot2 You forget old friends, I think "
prince Hal has changed his state" said
the major, smiling, with an effort to be him
self. 1T is time he shook off old Falstaff.
How ill white hairs become fool and jester!
So surfeit sweed, so old and so profaner
"You did not use to affect the cynic"
''No. 1t is the sight of you that reminds
me Of what l had better forget"
Proctor was ashamed, as one man always
is of emotion in another. "You had always
an unreasonable liking for me, vicious young
dog that was!" he said, lightly. You're
at the old place, | suppose? I'll come round
at dusk Wen broil steak together, hey,
MAORI My hand has not lost its cunning"
The old man looked down at him steadily
with an inexplicable brightness in his keen
eyes. II did not think you would go so far
as that, my boy" he said quietly.
Mr.. McMurray's carriage drew up at the
door at that moment. 1t was plain but rich,
the horses thoroughbred. An innocent look
ing, delicate little blonde, dressed with
Quaker like plainneSs, looked out and blushed
crimson at the sight of John. At that the
blood mounted also into the fellows tell tale
face, and he went down to the carriage, lean
ing on the door to speak to her
"A handsome pair, major" whispered
WithrOw, who was still lettering near
Standish nodded. 'She looks like a good
religious woman. McMurray would raise his
daughter cleaner than other girls"
''She's worth cool half million; that's the
way in which I'd think you would look at
her"
80 do, Mr.. Withrow Proctor is lucky,
very lucky. Talents and education and re-
igion, and now a good wife with money.
The boy could not ask for more"
There was something in the old mans I'M
usual quiet, and the look which he fastened
on Proctor. that reused Withrow's curiosity.
h.