Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1893-12-06
justone moment the gray picture Deiatole

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He beat it back fiercely. Ho would
not believe. But the resistance was no
longer buoyant; it was forced.
Then there is the other side-freedom
knowing no limit" continued Delatole
in q soliloquizing tone-ns he walked up
and down smoking. never once CHANGING
at the silent, erect figure in the window.
Freedom. Only those who have sur
rendered it know the full sweetness of
that word. Every door would be open
to you. You need not only be Bohe-
milan. A fellow like you, of undoubted
talent, well looking, clever, independent
and with some money would not have
to knock ut society's golden door for ad-
mission. 1t would fly open to you. For
myself hate the stiff set, but it is al
ways well for an artist to become
acquainted with every sort of human.
Under conditions of this sort Your artistic
vein would warm and expand, Your ma
ture vibrate TO change after change. The
man who enters a race fettered is a fool.
When 1 have said this, l have said all.-
There was silence after these words
and then the rustling of paper. Tom
hastily turned and saw Delatole leaning
against the table, looking scornfullv over
each of the pages whereon the criticism
was written that had SO delighted him.
a painful premonition made him cold,
but he said nothing.
"Ah, well, wish l had known that
you contemplated this idiocy before l
wasted time and ink on You. Murray.
You didn't tell me, of course. No rea-
son why you should. But assure YOU,
had guessed what manner of man YOU
were wouldn't have plunged into such
a bewildering prophecy about Your fu-
ture greatness. I'm not usually SO i'm
pulsive," and he rent the sheets half
across before Toms voice made him
pause.
lis this fair: If you really liked The
Worlds Way why won't You say so:'
The mysterious violet gray of twilight
stealing through the high windows be-
hind him touched his young face with
shadows. 1t was pinched, eager, watch
full
''Oh, I'll do that, of course. A few
lines, n paragraph, will suffice, but not
this psalm of victory, this heralding of
a new voice that is not to be stilled, but
will rise again and again-not that.
You'll have to provcal I've said false
before Lwrite of you i'll that strain"
And he was the incarnation of bland,
impersonal regret as the papers once
more fluttered in his hands.
He looked them over half resretfully.
Its one of the best things I've ever
written, but in submission to my honest
opinion must destroy it
III :! few strides Tom was beside him.
They looked intently at each other.
Toms eyes wavered and fell
''Don't-dor't," he said. and his voice
was half checked Give me time. Let
NE think"
Half an hour later they We're walking
up University place. They dined at
chophouse frequented by Bohemia,
where tables We're bare and beer was
served in mugs.
Better than Delmonico's i'll certain
moods, said Delatole as they crossed
the sanded floor: ''the food is excellent
and cooked IL suit Lucullus. As accom-
panimcnts You have art, devil-may care
ism. smoke and even socialism"
His friends Were scattered through
the long room, and merry greetings were
called ont to him, which he repaid in
kind. The hours passed in sparkling
"reminiscences, iests and laughter. Dela-
tole's levity became astonishing. and In
this impudent wag, who soon formed
group around himself. there was not a
trace of the Cynic. the philosopher. the
serious man of letters Much that he
said was coarse. but 50 aulaciulslv hu-
morous it was Impossible not t. respond.
Tom found himself moved 10 pntnusi-
assn and laughter. His pulses were
alive; his eyes ghStened. Ne>. let him
reason as he would. he was attuned to
this reckless hrillancy, this mingling of
wits, this clatter of defiant freedom and
spontaneity. Delatolc was right Chance
words here and there gave hiu new in
sight into Il happy. modern pagauism
that filed his brain with imagery The
witchery, the sweep of il Were intoxic T.
ing.
He regretted when o'clock came and
DelatOlc parted with him 10 keep an APP
pointment ut his club. No word had
been exchanged between the two men
upon the subject that SO nearly con-
Cerned them both. Now, as Tom hur-
ried up town the undecided question
danced before his eyes. his heart became
suddenly weighted.
Should he east the old life behind him
utterly and enter upon new one-free?
He reached Union square. II spanked
in crystal whiteness. The branches pat
termed on the pavements waved fantas-
tically about his feet as he strode on, his
head down. Passionate indecision went
with him like wrath in the white rays.
He thought of his enchanted dreaming
of the night before. Only last night.
All, he had learned much since then.
Had he ever really reasoned or under
stood before?
Keep yourself unshackled. The man
who enters race fettered is n fool"
The frosty breeze that whistled past
his ears seemed whispering these words
to him.
His memory flew back to n miserable
childhood spent among the rigors of
poor western farm, and he shuddered.
Only by hard fight and incredible sac
rifce had his father saved the money
necessary for his support and education.
Poverty. How he loathed and feared
it! How he had always loathed it. In
grained in his nature was love for the
poetry of life, hatred of the common
place, and now-let him be careful, lest
by enc i'll advised step he taste all the
old bitterness again.
Inc 1EdSTduCe Vi Inc ny aSlulils III HIS
coat came to him in the crisp air, SO
penetratingly sweet it gave him heart
ache-the flowers she had given him.
With groan he flung himself into a
seat.
Il love her! l love her! And she?
Have not had the confession in her
eyes-in her kiss: Who has helped me
who has understood me like her? How
can 1 pain her-how can l leave herr"
For himself, if the reckless ambition
mastering him required it, he could put
love away, blot it from his life, and the