Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-05-12

4
Resting mt the Spring.
man who sat all day at his desk in the
| auditors office of the big railroad company
| where he was employed Then. too the
| miserable street-car service in the west dis
| trict where he lived repealed rather than
| attracted passenger traffic.
Father and son traversed several blocks
without either saying a word. Suddenly
Paul spoke. do You think you could get.
me pass to Pueblo?" was his startling
query.
Il might If I applied for it. I suppose;
but what do you expect to do in Colorado?"
asked his perplexed parent.
II went to the Mercury office yesterday"
returned Paul. evading a direct reply, land
had a talk with Mr.. Wilder about news
paper work. He thought he could help
NE, but suggested that 1 see a little of the
world and rub off my rawness before start
ing in as a reporter He thinks that a
practical experience Of this sort will be in
valuable to me later on. What do you
think, father?"
Mr.. Travers hesitated. He was proud of
his sons energy and ambition, but the boy
vas dear to his heart, and the thought of
any separation was painful. Yet, knowing
mis- own shortcomings, he realized that
Journey of the kind proposed would give
the lad practical ideas and a knowledge of
the world that would at least save him
n ON the fate that had befallen his father.
Then, too. he shrewdly guessed that Paups
imaginative mind would never be satisfied
with the dali routine of clerical work, so
with rapid mental survey of these various
problems he replied: Il certainly believe
travel and observation will improve any
one. but. my boy. suppose you go to Colo
redo. What are your plans?'
Frankly, have no definite ones, father.
You know L have standing invitation
from Ernest Horton to visit him at Silver
ton, to which point 1 would probably go
from Pueblo. / am anxious to see some of
the famous silver mines in Colorado. and to
tramp over part of the Rockies 1t seems
to me that one who has lived all his life in
fiat prairie country might be inspired by
the sight of those mighty peaks out there"
But $50 won't last you very long Paul
What will you do when your money is
gene? L am sorry to say l can't spare any
just now
Don't you worry about that dad" re-
turned Paul affectionately. when my last
cent is spent / may take a notion to turn
tramp and keep on walking until 1 strike
salt water. But just rest easy, I'm sure l
can take care of myself and I'll keep
you all posted so that you may know / an
safe and in the land of the living. Only
give me your permission to go and help me
win mothers consent. Is it a bargain,
father? And the lad halted on the Adams
street viaduct. over which they were then
passing, and laid his hand caressingly on
the elder mans shoulder. You know what
Mr.. Wilder's views are" he continued, by
way of a clincher. "and 1 wouldn't urge it
myself If didn't feel certain 1t was a good
thing"
Five minutes more and they had reached
tne general OluCeS OF the railroad company.
AS Paul turned to retrace his steps his
father called from the stairway: I'll think
IL over, my son; I'm half inclined TO let you
go. but i must consult with your mother"
Mrs. Travers was decidedly averse to the
project at first. but after long discussion
that night with her husband, during which
he told some forcible truths regarding his
own early life and it's isolation, the mother
yielded and Reluctantly gave her consent.
When Paul outlined his plans and limited
of a possible extension of his Colorado
trip to points far beyond, both his mother
and the girls thought he was merely joking,
and Edith laughed gayly at the notion of
any prolonged travels with so slender a
purse Paul carried. None of them could
believe he was really in earnest.
In his way Paul was something of a IA
talist and was willing to be guided to a
great extent by circumstances. He was
determined to travel and had planned to do
any honest work, however humble or rough,
in order to succeed in his object. Hard
knocks and buffetings he expected to en-
counter. but If he could have foreseen some
of his later experiences even his enthusiasm
might have suffered a collapse.
Two days before the time set for starting
out on what Madge facetiously termed her
brothers grand tower" Paul made a fare
well call on his fathers friend at the Mer-
curry office.
II have come to say goodbye. Mr.. Wild
err he said. advancing to where the news
paper man sat at his desk. You see, /
have taken your advice and intend to knock
around little before joining the Mercury
staff"
The editor leaned back in his chair until
the springs groaned. BLESS my SOUL boy,
you surely are not in earnest; 1 never
DIRE AIMED your parents would give their con-
sent. Which way do you so. and when do
you start?"
II am going to Colorado first and expect
to leave Thursday" answered Paul II
want to see something of the mountainous
country and will put in a month or two at
the silver mines; what my route will be
after that have not decided. 1 only know
that l intend to keep my face to the west
and hope that l won't have to turn in my
tracks Until 1 strike Chicago again"
The newspaper man emitted a long whis-
tie. We'll. come, 1 like that" he ejacu-
lated; and what do you expect such a trip
will cost your
Paul smiled. well. not much: I have
S53 in cash and a pass over the Santa Fe
road to Pueblo. But 1 mean to make it,
though. sue as 1 live" added the lad earn
estly, noticing the look of ineredulity on
Mr.. Wilder's face.
Tell you what I'll do Paul" said the
editor banteringly. ''Ill give you six weeks
to get back to three meals a day and
clean bed You'll do well II you stand the
pressure that long. Why. man, you'll starve
TO death out in that country when your
money is exhausted"
This light estimation of his powers net
tied Paul, as Mr.. Wilder had purposely in
tended, and mis- tone was n trifle brusque as
he retorted: "Oh, no, sir, 1 guess not, and
am certain you will not see me back here
in less than a year, for l will surely go
clear around the world. But that isn't all;
1 hope to get back with more money than /
have now, if possible
Paul was far from being a boaster and
the quiet. earnest manner in which he said
this seemed to carry conviction to the quiz
zical editor. who Immediately exclaimed:
All, Paul. forgive my Incredibly / haven't
the slightest doubt of your ultimate sue
cess, and promise that a first-class posi-
ton snail be ready for you on the Mercury
stan as reward for your courage and en-
terprlse, when you return. Meanwhile IL
you care to send us in any letters descrp-
tive or your travels we will not only publish
them put pay You a good price if they prove
interesting"
DO you know. my boy, he continued.
am really proud of your spirited resolu-
ton, and only wish 1 were twenty wears
younger. so that / could offer myself as a
travelling companion. But don't forget
Paul, that wherever you go or in what com,
pany you are thrown you have a good name
10 cherish and mother whose heart IyouId
be broken If her boy went wrong Anotbar
thing; don't rush into danger needIessIv
One can be brave without being fooIba rdy
l nrmly believe you will turn up here some |
fine morning safe and sound, with a f,1nd Of
experiences worth the price of one of those
silver mines out in the Rockies. So keen
a stif upper lip. my lad. and try to take
things philosophically-the feathers with the
turkey"
Then this usually cynical leader writer
whose pen. people said was tipped with
H. haa FrN- har, l1k,u