The Columbus journal., 1888-06-13

"Ah, Mr. McMurray! A delightful
morning, sir" The major beamed Oh him
efulgent. Singer and Withrow, the news
editor, both driving their pens furiously at
McMurray's appearance, winked at each
other. The seedy major, with his grand
brawny build, his imperturbable suavity and
his dauntless lying, always came off first best
in these encounters. McMurray, in his fault
less black clothes, with all his backing of
wealth and conscientious religion, seemed to
feel himself thin and sour, and cowed before
him.
81 wonder" he said, with sneer, that
with your higher literary occupations, You
can spare time to besiege this Office as
you do"
that is precisely what my publishers
say to me. Write a book, Standish,' they
say. Take the public between the eyes with
q knock down blow Then those magazine
fellows in New York and Boston are crying
out every month for ME to come to thei..
help. But l like to See the old Camera sue
ceed, that's the truth"
1.-The Camera is under obligation to you >
''Not at all. I'm glad to help build it up
I've pride Philadelphia enterprise, sir-a
pride in it," hacking to the door. What l
have here, sir" touching his forehead, Twas
meant for mankind, not to barter for fame
or money. By the way, have you seen that
last little thing of mine in the Westmin-
sterr
"No nor nobody else, ;" savageiy.
"Ah," you don't take the quarterlies? I'll
send it to you. I'll send it to you. Good
morning, Mr.. McMurray, good morning"
"Keep that liar and braggart out of the
Office, Mr.. Stinser," said McMurray in his
coldest, civilest tones; for when other men
would have RACED, his sense Of duty kept
him quietest. He smoothed his face before
going back into Office Young John Proc
tor was there, the clergyman to whom Ne
Murray's church, through bis influence, had
just given a call. He had just come from
the depot after two years absence in the
west, and McMurray was striving to do him
honor in his hard, ungenial way Proctor
had been a sort Of ward Of his and it was
whispered about in the Office that McMurray
would be glad to have him now for a son-in-
law. This church was his idol. and to see
his only child the wife of one of its ministers
was, in his opinion, to incloSe her in the
pearly gates of salvation while Yet alive
The Office" felt as if the delicate, bright
haired little heireSs would be thrown away
ON Proctor. These penniless preachers
know how to feather their nests" Stinser
had said but few minutes before.
Mr.. McMurray could not forget Standish
when he went back 20 his oftice. LAZY old
BOhemianw he growled- ''If You want the
most disrepntable vices, Mr. Proctor, always
look for them in an old man who lives by his
wits"
"Who was itl'
''Standish-the major. You know him."
"Whatl Therer' Proctor dashed out into
the Office without his hat, and down the
stairs, shouting, "Hillo, major" leaving
AcMurray astonished behind him. He took
up his pen and began to write severely. The
carnal flesh was stronger i'll the young man
than he had thought. Withrow, out of Gu
riosity. loungei down the stairs and found
John at the door looking anxiously up and
down the street.
"Ah, Mr.. Withrow, do you remember me.
John Proctor, wringing his hand in a hearty
fashion which he used to have when bow.
I'm looking for a friend of mine, Mai.
Standish."
"Yess Maj Munchausen, we call him in
the Office"
He is a friend Of mine,n coolly. .'The
ONCE does not know him as well as I do.
probably
Withrow felt himself rebuffed, but only
for minute. 1.-The old fellow has a cockloft
over ware house somewhere where he cooks
for himself. How he lives, God knows He
has nothing now but the odd jobs we give
him here in the Office. He's had nothing from
Us for two weeks"
is he alone! There was q little girl, or
woman, ratherr Proctor hesitatedL The
story Of the old major and Madeline was
something which he could not drag out be-
fore this fellow
Niece or something! She lives in some
country town now, believe, and colors pho
tographs. A great artist, the major saws.
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 befitted it They grew out
OF tho 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 few
delicious hours. What q vagabond, uncer-
tain life it was! the poverty, the shifts, the
eun, the inextinguishable jollity and tender
love under it all! What a prince the major
md Madeline made of him-saving all week
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