The Anaconda standard. [volume] (Anaconda, Mont.) 1889-1970, 1890-08-03
IN THE PRIDE OF HIS YOUTH.

YHEN / was telling you of the joke
VVV that The Worm played oil on
the Senior Subaltern, l prom
ised q somewhat similar tale, but with all
the jest left out. This is that tale.
Dicky HIATT was kidnapped in his early,
early youth-neither by landlady's daugh-
ter, housemaid, barmaid nor cook, but by
a girl 30 nearly of his own caste that only
a woman could have said she was just the
least bit In the world below il. This hap
pened n non before he came out to In
dia, and five days after his one-and-twen-
tieth birthday. The girl was nineteen
six years older h Dicky in the things OF
this world, that is to say-and, for the
time, twice as foolish as he.
Excepting, always, falling of a horse,
a there is nothing more fatally easy than
marriage before the registrar. The cere-
inony costs less than fifty shiliings, and
is remarkably like walking into a pawn
shop. After the declarations of resi-
dence have been put In, four minute will
cover the rest of the proceedings-fees,
attestation and all. Then the registrar
slides the plotting pad over the names,
and says grizzly with his pen between his
teeth: Now you're man N wife," and
the couple walk out into the street, feel
ing that something were horribly illegal
somewhere.
But that ceremony holds and can drag
a man TO his undoing just as thoroughly
as the 'long as We both shall live" curse
from the altar rails, with the bridesmaids
giggling behind, and "The voice that
breathed DER Eden" lifting the
roof of. In this was
Dicky HIATT kidnapped, and he ON
sidered IT vastly fine, for he had re-
ceived an appointment in India which
carried q magnificent salary from the
Home point of view. The marriage was
to be kept secret for a year. Then Mrs.
Dicky HIATT was TO come out and the rest
of life was to be a glorious golden mist.
That was how they sketched il under the
Addison Road Station lamps; and, after
n short month came Gravesend and
Dicky steaming out To his new life, and
the girl crying in a 3O-shillings n week
bed-and,iving room,i In a back street of
Montpelier Square near knightsbridge
Barracks.
But the countr that Dicky came To was
"A hard land where men" OF p were reck-
oned very small boys indeed, and life was
expensive: The salary that doomed so
large 5000 miles away did not go far.
Particularly when Dicky divided il by
two, aud RENTED more than the
fair half, at 1-6, 10 Montpelier Square.
One hundred and thirty-five rupees out of
80 is not much to live on; but IL was alb
NuEtl VI ttDDoct tustt NlTSs lLt Coulu eA-
list forever on the 40 held back by Dicky
from his outfit allowance. Dicky saw
this N RENTED at once; always remem-
bering that RS. 700 were to be paid. II
months later. for n first-class passage for
n lady. When you d to these trifiinR
details the natural instincts of a boy be-
ginning n new life In n new country and
longing to go about and enjoy himself,
n the necessity Tor graphing with
strange work-which, properly speaking.
should take up q boys undivided atten-
tion-you will see that Dicky started nan
~dicapped. He saw it himself for a breath
OF two; but he did not guess the full
beauty of his future.
As the hot weather began the shackles
settled on him and ate into his flesh. First
would come letters-big. crossed, seven
sheet letters-from his wife, telling him
how she longed to see him, and what q
heaven upon earth would he their prop
erty when they met. Then some boy of
the chummery wherein Dicky lodged
would pound ON the door of his bare little
a ~pony-the very thing To suit him. Dicky
could not afford ponies. He had TO ex-
plain this. Dicky could not afford living
i'm the chummery, modest as IL was. He
had to explain his before he moved to
a single room next the Office where he
worked all day. He kept house O n a green
oil-cloth table cover, one chair. one char
poy, n photograph, one tooth glass. very
strong and thick, a seven-rupee eight
anna filter, and messing by contract
at thirty-seven rupees a o N Which
last item was extortion. He had no pun
kali, for n punkah costs fifteen rupees a
month; but he slept on the roof of the
Office with all his wife's letters under his
pillow. Now and again he was asked out
to dinner where he got both a punkah
n an iced drink. But this was seldom,
for people objected 10 recognizing a boy
who had evidently the instincts of a
Scotch tallow-chandler, and who lived in
such n nasty ashion. Dicky could not
subscribe TO any amusement, so he found
no amusement except the pleasure of
turning over his bank book and reading
b y aid about loans on approved Sc.
~curity." That cost nothing. He RENTED
through a Bombay bank, by the way, and
the station knew nothing of his private
affairs.
Every month he sent home all he could
possible spare for his wife-and for an
other reason which was expected to ex-
plain itself shortly and would require
more money.
About this time. Dicky was ~overtaken
with the nervous haunting fear that be-
sets married men when they are out of
sorts. He bad no pension TO look to.
What il he should die suddenly. and
leave his wife ~unprovided for? The
thought used to lay hold of him in the still,
hot nights on the roof. till the shaking of
his heart made him think that he was go
inc 10 die then and there of h~eart-disease.
Now this Is a frame of mind which no boy
has N right To know. Ii Is a strong mans
trouble; but. coming when II did, it nearly
drove poor ~punkabless. perspiring Dicky
HIATT mad. He could tell no one about IL.
A certain amount of "screw" IL a neces-
~ FOR "a htlllnF1 hall IL