Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1892-09-08
HER SISTERS HONOR.
A Tale of English Life.
By Walter Besant-
CHAPTER I.
NY sIsTER-OH. Ny SISTER


On a fine Saturday evening in July
there are never many readers in the Free
Library. The old men who come in
winter, because the place is warm and
light and quiet, are now walking up and
down the pavement, where the Sunshine
warns them through and through and
chases away their rheumatic pains. The
younger men are all atield, playing
cricket, boating, cycling, rambling afoOt,
thinking of nothing but the delights Of
fresh air, and rejoicing in their youth.
What have the young to do with
musty, dusty library on a summer even
ing? A library is a cemetery. Books
are mostly the tOmbs of dead mems
brains. Young folk are much better
occupied with reading each others
thoughts than with walking among the
tombs, so that the library is almost
empty.
It was about seven o'clock. At the
window into which the sun would have
poured its wealth Of heat and light
which it gives to the tombs Of the dead
as we'll as to the fields and flowers Of
the living-a brown blind was hauled
down, leaving a long. narrow line. The
sun, pertinaciOuS in its attempt to reach
everything, took advantage Of the line
to make a thin plate or lamina Of bright
sunshine, across which the merry notes
danced with their usual cheerfulness.
There was a smell of leather bindings;
the tables were covered with magazines
and papers; a few readers sat at the ia
bles. But I think that knowledge was
not greatly advanced. One or two of
them slept; one or two looked as if their
thoughts were elsewhere = with the
brook babbling over the shadows, with
the village crOnieS gathered under the
lean-to beside the ale-house. One of
them, gaunt, hOllow-eyed, hungry, sat
with an illustrated paper before him.
But he never turned over a leaf, and he
looked not at the pictures. The libra
rian watched that man SuspiciOuSly. He
did not like the look in that mans eyes.
It meant rebellion; it meant a wicked
spirit of discomfort with the social order
which left him starving while it made
his neighbor fat and refused him work
while it suffered his neighbOr to liVe-in
comfort on the work of other men. Only
a year or two agO-Or it might be ten.
because to one who is librarian years
have no significance in connection with
numbers-a man had come into the
place with just such look in his eyes.
That man asked for book, sat down,
and proceeded to tear away its bindings
and to wrench its sheets aSunder. Then
he gave himself up to the librarian with
the greatest gentleness and politeness,
explaining that liberty without crust
was really mCckery, and that IN future
he meant to be maintained by his eoun-
try, and that when he had served his
time for the destruction of the book, he
meant to smash a lamp, and, that
atoned for. to steal a stretcher from
police station, and so on, getting per-
haps longer sentences, until he should
be called to his reward. They walked
off together to the nearest police station
like two old friends, and parted with
hearty grasp after the sergeant had
noted the case.
Another man there was whom the
librarian regarded with eyes of compass
sion. He dragged himself slowly and
YEARLY up the stairs, threw himself
upon a seat next the wall, and there
fore provided with a back, took up a
paper. sighed, and instantly fell fast
asleep. This sort the librarian knew
very welI-he was the clerk out OF work.