The morning call., 1892-08-21

an epen-hearted. honest-lookiug fellow as
iiaroid Ia all appearance. i had Dicknamed
MIN the Saxon" and the name stuck TO
HIM. Tor 1t was appropriate. He lived
gay, reckless kind of life. and was always
taking OF marrying money or going
out to the Cape, as the only alternatives to
The bankruptcy Court; but believe he was
comfortably IF. 1 liked him. / thought
him one of my few friends. i like to re-
member him as | thought he was. even now;
for l believe he was nv friend ia those DAYS,
as Tar as such a man could be anybsdy's
friend.
do not know what there Is about the
smaii hours of the morning, or whether
sympathy is aH absolute necessity 10 lover.
but within five minutes we were talking Of
Kate Winterlon.
"a fine woman? | should think she is"
cried Harold enthusiastically; land a hne
fortune, too"
bright, witty. good-tempered aud pleas
ing, ii not pretty l added, continuing nay
description.
''Why. you might be in love with her. PEN
rose, 70 hear You talk"
1T was very foolish of me, / know: but
lovers are foolish, and il was early in the
morning, and of course L did not know then
that Harold was my rival Had / suspected
If, L think | should have entered a nolle
proseQul and dropped my suit, leaving hum
clear field. After all, it was perhaps only
natural effect OF my aiiment that should
long TO tell some one my secret. The glory
oil secret lies in imparting it. Keeping a
secret Is very poor fun, and / have no
secrets at O'clock in the morning-it is a
sympathetic hour. l rose and stood by the
fire.
Harold, old boy, I've something 10 tell
you am in love with Kate HniertonI'
Ine Saxon nearly dropped his pipe. He
gave long whistle and said nothing. /
was disappointed: | expected congratuia-
tons, pleasant laughter, good wishes-some-
thing.
A 81.
taton: "You haven't actually proposed.
eh9 Have you?"
mo, mol of course not. No one knows
but you. and why the devil l told you don't
know, l added testify. His GOODNESS irri-
tated me.
by Georgel old fellow. I'm sure wish
you joy. Benedict reGivivusp He laughed
heartily and. shook me by the hand. The
Saxon was himself again, and so was l.
"Ahl Harold" / said. 81 hardly know
whether | shall ever tell her. Let me see.
this is Monday night"
uesday morning you mean"
les, yes. shall not see her until SUM-
day; L have week before me yet All,
nv boy; give me your good wishes on Sun
day. The better the day you know"
L shook him by the hand again. He was
not very enthusiastic, but ne listened o my
garruious rawlings, and that was all /
wanted then. Il feel Young again." i con-
tinued. land when | think OF her loving
face and sweet, gray eyes"
Gug! gug! guSi Ii was that COMPOUNDED
lamp. Out IT went, and put period To my
rhapsody.
Let us take it as a gentle hint to me,
ana not levers omen" laughed Harold
pleasantly. Igroped about, found candle,
and bid him goodnight Then | sought re-
pose and dreamed real dreams, haunted
with Hates bright eyes and silver treble
laugh.
think have said that l reviewed for
stuff, and had long ceased TO be proud OF
1t; but it provided my daily bread, or
rather my daily outlet and pint of claret.
and L was at least honest about it. l GER
talnly worked very hard at NV learned re-
views, and crammed my subjects thor
oughiy. l was always at work. Ethe-
ridge used TO say that 1 worked
like the devil, but without his in
teliigence'" The truth is they were
all little Jealous of my position; for
l was the big ''we' who taught Darwin
science, instructed Tennyson in the laws of
meter, and patronzed George Eliot. 1t was
admitted, too, on all hands that | was excel
lent in turning cut those readable reviews
that the public enjoys, and that used to
drive weak-minded authors to early graves
In my time. Nowadays weak minded au-
thors are difficult to drive; more's the pity.
was wiring something the next evening
for Saturdays Slasher when Harold came
in with merry smile on his lace. l saw
no deviltTy in il then.
do you want subject for one of your
real good things?" he asked Here's a
new volume of poems just out; they are
screamingly funny"
''Where did yon get them?'' 1 asked.
Il found them in a fellows room and
borrowed them for a few days. No one
you know" he added hastily.
He handed ne thin volume daintily got
up in white-and-gold boadolr binding, let
tered ia scarlet on the caver, Signs From
Ny Heart by Sappho."
Modest young lady, isn't she?" sug-
gested the Saxon QuiZZically.
IF she is lady," replied senten tionsly.
with the air of one who was too old hand
to jump al obvious conclusions
Listen to this, then" cried Harold.
snatchlng the book from my hand, and read
ing with very comic effect poem addressed
ITO My Hero" each verse of which ended
thus:
HIS locks are gold.
His locks are bold,
Just suits You, Penrose." be said. as he
finished. 'You have red hair and your
looks are perfectly braZen."
hi; Who publishes itf" said. smiling at
through it. and If it is at all like that stuff
it will CONS in asefuI. I've lot of dull.
solemn things here, nothing to make fun Of"
NOW do write good one. Let us have
specimen of your cayenne pepper papers
as Crofts calls them. L shall come In and
keep you up TO il.
His locks are gold
His looks are bold,
My Heror'
Etheridge struck an attitude as be said
this. laughed aloud at me IN his merry, high
spirited way, and went of, leaving me the
volume.
l read the poems, and found them lust the
weak sort of rubbish expected, and Knocked
OF notice Of them. 1 sent down TO the
publishers TO find out why we had not got
copy al the Slasber. and was told that il
would come in on Friday. / wanted some
thing light for half page, SO | did the
ordinary kind of sneering, smart review
that the public chuekles over and enjoys
Even as l wrote 1t sighed TO myself as [
! often did, for l never grew eallous about
other peoples feelings, and / always blame
| an authors friends az much as an author
| for the nonsense be publishes. / shall never
| forget that review; every wretched word Of
! IL Is burnt deep into my heart, and when l
remember the hundreds of equally cruel
and equally just notices. must be fair to
myself-that had written. l feel happy TO
| have left the trade to others who have less
tender consciences and tougher hearts.
On Sunday morning | rose early. l had
! not slept WE'LL do not wish TO pretend i
had, neither did / eat good breakfast, but
l was awake TO the necessity of blessing
| carefully-particularly earefulIy-and this
i did. / strolled northward toward Park
| Crescent, where Mrs. Winterton lived. All
| the good people were coming out of church
and the dinners were coming to meet them
| out of the bakehouses. Il was a clear.
frosty morning. Every one seemed cheer
| full and contented. had never known Lon
don look so bright and happy. As for me,
l walked on air. erect, with swinging steps,
smiling pleasantly al the passers-by, for l
did not know what was before me.
Or course Mrs. Winterton was at home to
me, just as she had been for the last ten
Sundays at this hours No one was there,
and she would be down la a minute. Jane
smiled at me as usual, for | was very reg
ular visitor and remembered Jane very
handsomely In my Christmas boxes. /