The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1894-11-29
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fcoPYRrSHT. 1891

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"Tant que vous n'aurez rien de r,ieuH en-
brasser. tachez de voOS faire Illusion LA
Joie felt peur.
We were at school together. I was
the show-boy of our school. / did the
brilliant things, wrote the clever es.
saws made the most successful passes.
| It was inevitable that / was to sue.
coed in the world-succeed? No; the
word was mine for the asking. AS for
Bontor, who thought of him? He was
near the end of the form: remember
him well. He wore dirty collars,
hadn't much money and was dense in
school. He played football passably,
and was banned as having commercial
instincts. He had low tricks of sale
and barter with boyish tools and toys,
which afterwards seemed less useful
and delightful than at first, generally
having some skillfully hidden flaw. 1t
was supposed that he would go into
his fathers Office, the elder Bontor
being a merchant, rag merchant, our
boyish wit said) in the city. AS for
brilliancy or success. ridiculous.
Bontor left school before did His
father had gone bankrupt, it appeared.
Not much notice was taking of his leay-
ing. He was nobody.
l left not very long after. when ]
finished the course, in fact. The head
master took leave of me in very
neat and laudatory speech; expressed
regret at hearing that 1 was not going
to a university; expected to hear OF
my success, and, in fact, seemed to be
grateful for my having condescended
TO shine in the school.
My father began to look glum when
I had been at home twelve months, and
was still at his expense. pointed out,
and l still think rightly, that it was
not my fault, but the worlds. He was
illogical. and showed me his bank
book. Upon this persuasion, / swal-
lowed my pride and wrote novel. 1t
took me four months to write and was
not published. My father and brothers
became covertly sarcastic. My father
even wished openly that l had not
been brilliant. All this was hard, but
I succumbed and tried hard for en-
ployment on the best newspapers;
then on magazines; then on minor pa
pers, and lastly even on the ruck of
weekly dust-heaps. Brilliancy was at
a discount.
left home after this at my fathers
request, and tried to sell my novel
again, but still without success After
awhile l became a devil. / grubbed
among books for more successful, but
less talented men. / could be seen
daily at the British museum.
I was sitting in Staple Inn one after
noon under the trees. This was some
years after had left home, and I had
not yet arrived" On the other hand,
/ had not then even begun to doubt
myself. At that time / thought my
hard luck was the usual tempering
process which my biographical knowl-
edge assured me all men of genius had
to suffer. l was waiting for the world
TO acknowledge me. Now, / have got
past that stage. l am sarcastic at the
mention of successful men and sati-
rical as to the worlds favor.
was tired when l sat down in Staple
Inn. had been walking about all day
20 pass the time, and was feeling
hungry. 1t was early autumn, and l
should have liked an overcoat and
missed my waistcoat. There was a
young man sitting on the seat by me.
eating a saveloy; penknife and roll
We're in piece of paper by his side.
He was seedy, but well brushed; his
boots were down at heel. and his nails
black. His felt hat had been linked. 1
had been sitting some minutes, when
he suddenly stopped munching and
said: Halo. Grant" ! looked round
in some surprise, and he continues:
Don't you know me?" No" l said,
with some ssperity. He was common