Sacramento daily record-union., 1889-09-28
ONLY A JOKE.

margin of the long galley of proof, folded
it, thrust it into stamped and directed
envelope, then stood up, stretched his
arms and expanded his chest, in the man.
ner of man coming out of heated room
into the fresh clear air. Suddenly his eye
lighted on little packet of manuscripts
lying on the table; he pounced upon it al
most fercely, futtered the leaves, then
tore it savagely across and threw it on to
the fire. The fire was dull, and scorched
and blackened the sheets without burning
them, so he caught up bent and battered
poker, and pressing them down into the
red glow, held them there until they
burst into fame lighting up the dark
corners of the room, which had been only
half rendered visible by the light of the
green-shaded lamp.
1t was one of those rooms which the ad-
Vertisement columns of the daily papers
call "bed and sitting-rooms, suitable for a
single gentleman of quiet habits" The
"single gentleman" must be person of
simple and singular tastes if he really
finds this kind of room suitable" to any
thing but his pocket. The chairs are
funereal horsehair, the seat of the s'easy"
one being invariably an inclined and slip
perry plane. The ornaments are always an
inkless papier-mache inkstand in the
middle of the red-and- black table cover,
and two Parian figures on the mantel-
piece, covered with gilt erdptions and pre-
served under glass shades.
Sebastian Lundy had made the best of
h d. i
inkstand had disappeared into cupboard;
the black-and-red tablecloth had given
place to green baize one, on which a
practicable inkpot and heap of papers
were now set forth; the mantelpiece was
used as book shelf, and so was the top of
the chest of drawers. They were a mixed
lot, those books; mostly divinity of the
evangelical kind, with here and there
volume of poetry. Only few of them
were new, and these stood all together at
one end of the mantelpiece. They were:
Literature and Dogma" "God and the
Bible" Greg's "Creed of Christendom,"
translation of the "Critique of Pure Rea-
son." and "Middlemarch"
When the manuscript had faded away
into gray ash, Sebastian stirred the fire
into a blaze and threw himself into an old
and broken American armchair which
stood in front of the fire. He clasped his
hands behind the back of his head and
wrinkled his forehead in puzzled medita-
tion. He was one of those men of whom
people say that they "Iook CID" implying
thereby that their looksdo not speak truly.
He had thick, straightish eyebrows, and
large, gray, weary-looking eyes, a thin,
rather ragged, black mustache, and small
black whiskers, with clean-shaven chin,
which never looked clean shaven. He was
long and bony, with the sort of bodily
angles which soon make new clothes look
old. The fire burned through, and fell in
with hollow little crash He rose and
took down ''Middlemarch, sat down by
the lamp, and with elbows on the table
began to read. He had not turned one
page before confident tap at the door
made him look up. There was shade of
annoyance on his face, but it faded before
he opened the door and yielded his hand
to the light-hearted hand-shake of the
Taper,
"Studious as usual! / am afraid l am
interrupting you, Lundy."
"Not at all, not at all Come in, Fisher
I'm glad to see somebody
"Why, what's the matter ?'' Down In
the dumps, Ell? Indigestion or love.
whi3h is it? Eh ?"
aseated himself in the slippery arm
chaS and thrown one fat leg over the
other. He was stout, well-looking per-
son, with a high color and pleasant
face
"Don't chat, there's good fellow" said
Lundy; ~ don't feel very gay tonight"
Fisher had come into the room with a
genial and jolly air, but, as the other
spoke, his whole expression changed. 1t
became at once serious and sympathetic.
I'm awfully sorry, old chap. What is
"Well, to tell you the truth, feel 1
can't go on with this sort of thing any
longer"
"What sort of thing 2' casting his eyes
round the room.
Lundy jerked his thumb toward the
stamped envelope on the table, and
Fisher, taking it up, read:
"To the Editor Of the Church and People"
"Why, what nonsense! You don't
mean that! What are YOU going to do
then?"
Lundy walked restlessly up and down
the room.
'That's Just the question" he said.
Fisher stood up and leaned against the
mantlepiece and looked at the other with
gravely-kind expression.
"The fact is" Lundy went on, " | feel
such wicked hypocrite. How can | go
on writing what l have ceased to really
believer"
"oh, my dear fellow, but I thought
you"
Yes, but don't see those things quite
as did"
Well, but even then"
Yes, | know what you're going to say
that journalists should have no con-
science, and that may be true in politics,
but it isn't in religion"
Well, but, dear me, how long has this
been going on?''
"A good deal longer than it would have
gone on with an honest man. It's no use,
Fisher, | can't bear it any longer"
The other shrugged his shoulders and
drew his hand along the backs of Mat
thew Arnold, Greg and Kant
That's what comes of reading these, /
suppose. | told you so; you should have
taken my advice. As soon as a man begins
muddling himself about Subject and
Object it is all over with him. never
think myself"
Its no use. It's too late. You see,
I've done 1t. can't go back and be the
same as if I'd read nothing but the Meth
odjst Times"
1t was Fishers turn to pace the room.
ITS pity, Lundy, it's a pity Nothing
pays so well as religion nowadays. And
you have quite special gift that way,
they say"
Good heavens, Fisher - Lundy looked
straight into the others eyes. "You
; wouldn't wish me"
No, no, no, of course not Fisher be-
came explanatory. 81 only mean that it
was lucky for the people who can believe