The Forrest City times., 1895-09-27

himself a holiday, and then his recrea- ton was limited to day only.
 The family by the thriftiness of their combined efforts had placed themselves beyond the need of the sons industry, but his work had so grown into his life and he invested it with so much pride and interest that he could not think of giving it up No longer lad, but nearing forty, he was still the same persistent, punctual vender; still know as Walter the popcorn boy. It was merciful for him but pitiful for others to think that it never dawned upon him that the range of his facul- ties was any narrower than that of men in other callings; it never oc- cured to him that there was anything insignificant or petty in his poor ef- forts. But the crude system of ac- counts which he carried in little pocket memorandum he was often seen working upon as he stood with his box before him on the street corner: the stress he put upon never missing a train or losing any time in pleasure and his strict insistence upon the cash basis all these indicated that his business interests were as weighty to him as the multiplied responsibilities of a great mercantile house to Stew or Mandel; and they were faint evil dences of what sterile, unfagging nature, keen business acumen and genius for conception and execution had been fated to go crippled through the world.
 Even the torments and cruel sport iveness of the boys who belittled his trade and made game of his air of au- thority and importance about the trains, did not bring to his conscious ness any hint of his mental infirmity And we'll might the lads who guyed and derided this silent hero have taken 2 lesson from his faithfulness, his in- dustry and business system, as we'll as from the blameless character of his life. Evenings found him always at home, and on Sunday it was his pride to have a humble part to perform in the church work and a post of duty in the Sunday school library which he discharged with greatest zeal and tol- erated no usurping of his place by others.
 Thus the monotonous tenor of Wal ter the popcorn boys life went on till the fall ef 1894, when the baneful in- fuence of the panic first became ap- parent in the village. No matter how banks might tremble and fall and capital take alarm. no one would think that the sale of popcorn and apples would be affected. But they. were, for at length Walter was heard bemoaning the let-up in trade. Perhaps there was not such a serious slump in his line, after all, and he had simply caught the calamity note from others it is so quick to spread. Anyway, the popcorn boys face grew more de- spairing, his tones more mournful Often he was seen shivering in the chill air and making figures with stub of d pencil in the pocket ledger. He was making comparisons with sales the day before, the week before and year back. He had heard some of the merchants tell how their trade had fallen off. The comparisons were not encouraging.
 "Oh, it's dreadful" he would be heard to wall often and again.
 What's the matter, Walter?" one of the boys would ask.
 My trades falling off like every thing" was his rueful answer. "These hard times will ruin me-"
 He was really in despair. The calam- ity contagion had hold of him. The business aspect was as serious to him as to the man of millions. His receipts for years had never fallen below cer- tain average To his dismay the boast he had always made would not again be true. It was seen that the worry was telling on him. Never strong looking, he began to look paler and thinner.
 'Oh, cheer up, Walter!" some con- siderate bystander would say. You'll come out all right"
 It was no use. "The figures speak for themselves" he said as he produced the little book all filled with rude pen cilings "rm falling behind-I know am" Many merchants sitting in their offices in sixteen-story buildings could sympathize with him.
 Walter, the popcorn boy, was incon- solable. It was common remark that he was getting worse. Each day seemed to add to his burden of despair In all his quarter of century of mer- humble as it had been. he could count on profits. The prospect of anything different was too much for him.
 l remember the last time I saw him. 1t was just before the fast mail from the west was due, shortly before two o'clock in the afternoon of a wintry