The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1894-03-29

Il
scathing attacks In the press that added
to his fame. How Murray could serve
him he had not yet determined. but his
gratitude was what he wanted. such
fresh and promising material, which
would easily receive whatever impress he
might place upon 1t, was not met with
every day.
"0h, you needn't thank me. Murray"
he said, with his acid smile and shivering
even in the depths of his endorsements
as an Icy wind swept across the square:
"Fm little bit proud Of this chance to
take you up. You mustn't be tho mod
est. You are success. You've written
Q play that's caught the town--a play
that will live. How you did 1t is o mys-
terry to me. You haven't lived long
enough to know the awful truth Of all
you've said. Once or twice there was
pain in the place where my heart used
to be. Read what I've said Of you in
The Challenge tomorrow. went out
during the act and dashed of criticism
In beer saloon. In q few days I'll 60
into the subject at some length, and
well. you'll see! But tell me now how
your inspiration came. You're some
thing Of q problem to me-"
II haven't known much life," said
Tom, "and Isuppose I'm unsophisticated
and credulous. But somehow under
stand this game in which as yet I've
scarcely taken hand. Somehow seem
to know how would suffer under the
stress Of ( temptation l described.
Some Of the Jrds burned me as I wrote
them. lived in the scene. Within my
own consciousness loved, struggled, fell
and repented with my hero"
go on. l like to hear you. You sound
ed the depths Of your emotional posi-
bilities before the water was troubled. I
understand. The plummet went to
dark depth to have given you even
shadowy insight into such intensely hu.
man mistakes and pain. Think Of it, by
Jovel You who've hardly known sor-
row made the women weep! And that
small, pale ray Of promise at the end was
mastery"
Tom felt nearness to this stranger,
almost an affection, as he listened. BY
degrees his uneventful history was won
from him. He felt little abashed at its
nothingness, the narrative Of days flow
ing quietly in an questionable neigh
borhood and his almost friendless condi-
ton.
"Of course there are Mr.. Kent and
Virginia" he said more brightly. but
know few people in New York. Ididn't
care for the fellows in college. My "a
ther died four months ago. That was
my first grief, as don't remember my
mother at ALL would often have felt
desperately lonely if 1t had not been for
Virginia"
"The girl I met tonight All, yes.
Pretty eyes. Rather q dangerous sort Of
friend. should think, for a fellow like
you."
"You don't know what she's been to
me-" said Tom. And then, morbidly
fearful Of appearing sentimental, he re-
lapsed into silence.
Delatole asked no question. There was
NO need of one.
"Isn't it strange" said Tom after o
pause filled only with the crunch Of their
footsteps on the frost hardened snow, Il
used to think myself awfully wretched
and forsaken sometimes? I had an ar
rogant idea that was the most abused
fellow in New York. But after had
grouped my characters and grew to
know their imagined faces, after / had
knotted the tragic thread that held them,
then I knew the difference. Poverty
and the small perplexities of my life lost
their sting when faced the picture Of q
stricken soul of my own creating. No,
can never be bitter or disconnected
again. Ihave learned a new and sweet
philosophy-to accept the littlenesses Of
life gladly, If only peace go with them"
Delatole's eyes were fixed upon him
now. The burning end Of the cigar be-
tween Toms lips threw a red CLEAN upon
his darby handsome face at every respi.
ration. The dreaminess softening it, the
lingering tenderness with which he spoke
the last slow words, told his companion
that what he had half OWNED before was
true--if Murray had not lived, at least
love had not passed him by.
Aspecies of envy mixed with Delatole's
alert attention. He thought of his ex-
hausted sensibilities and Of the jaded
commonplace which even the best and
brightest in life had become to him.
What would he not give to have back
the youth of heart he saw in Toms eyes?
Fresh for the feast with spurs val.
iantly won in the fray and under the
domination Of a romantic passion-per-
haps the first. And he is so untried he
doesn't know he has cause to cry aloud
and beat his hands foa joy. II won't
last. It never does. By and by, when
life has left bitter taste in his mouth,
he will remember with wonder and long
ing that he once thought one particular
woman worth this impulsive worship
He's quite capable of making fool Of
himself. know the tone. know the
look. So her names Virginia, and she's
been much to him? But needn't laugh.
Was l not just such deliriously happy
idiot once?"
They had reached broad, windswept
street that crossed Madison avenue not
far above the square, and Delatole turned
the corner.
"You have heard of Max Glendenning,
nf course. He leaves for Japan tomor-
row and gives farewell hurrah tonight.
Quite informal, you know. Meats on
the sideboard, help yourself, come and
go as you please, plenty to drink, some
rood stories. some pretty women. Amy
friend of mine is his. We were chums,
lad chambers together and lived free,
Heal existence until"-and savage sneer
twisted Delatole's lip still farther to one
tide-"he went down before Madeline
6orel. the burlesque woman. / never
saw man so madly in love. She kept
running after him, too, making herself
confoundedly at home in our quarters
with her rouge, her songs and her ciga-
rettes, l wouldn't stand it. We split