Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1895-07-12
THE FOURTEENTH.

It has been said that it is always the
unexpected that happens, and that to be
prepared for emergencies one must be
both a philosopher and fatalist. AS
Professor Smythe, musician, piano tuner
and general utility man-in a musical
way-was going to the Globe theater,
where he was to play flute obligato
with the regular orchestra, he would
have been much surprised if any hint of
a new calamity in his run down for
tunes could have been then and there
foretold. He certainly thought he had
taxed the ingenuity of adverse fate to
it's utmost, and he had enough misery
on hand to last lifetime. But the mis-
fortune awaiting him was of a grotesque
turn and quite unlike the others. which
were the commonplace ones of illness,
poverty and bad luck i'll everything he
undertook.
AS he walked along in the shrinking,
depressed fashion that had become nat
ural to him through habitude with mis-
fortune he was aware of the sudden
opening Of door in handsome resi-
dence he was passing and flood OF Or
ange light beaming across his path. At
the same time man in evening dress
ran lightly down the steps, seized him
by the arm and said briskly:
"My dear sir, excuse me, but would
you do me great favor?''
Professor Smythe forgot to draw into
his shell, so sudden was this attack. He
stood still, like the wedding guest in
the "Ancient Mariner" but finally
stammered his need of haste and the &C.
casion of it.
ST will pay you twice as much, and
you will have nothing to do but make
yourself agreeable. 1t will be a great
accommodation, and I shall never for
get it. I can see by your appearance
that you are a gentleman. Consider me
a friend and accept my offer"
"But what service is required of me?"
asked the professor, who had vague
idea that grand piano had suddenly
gone wrong.
"Why, you see, am giving dinner
to some friends. 1t is all on the table,
and we have just discovered that there
are IS of us. That would never do at
all Now if you will dine with us, you
shall be well paid for your services, and
dare say you will be in time for your
flute solo at the theater, as you can be
excused when you desire You will
come? Thanks!'
The professor followed his host in a
state of absolute subsection, as it he
might have been hypnotized, but the
fact was that the poor man had not bro
ken his fast since morning, and the de-
licious aroma of the dinner coming
through the open door proved irresisti-
BILE. He gave his name in whisper,
was handed over to a servant, who took
him up stairs into a guest chamber,
helped him remove his shabby oyercoat
and whisked off his best suit with sill
yer handled brush, taking its thread
bare CLINT for dust. 1t was we'll he was
engaged to play; otherwise he would
not have been in evening dress. He was
beginning to enjoy the little comedy in
which he was himself an actor.
There was no introduction. His host
motioned him to a seat between the
maiden lady and a severe matron who
turned her silken back on him to talk to
her neighbor On the other SIDE The pro-
fessor's pride did not once assert itself.
He was masquerading-tha was all.
But fats had not done with Professor
Smythe.
The consomme had dash of cham
payne in it, and new life was infused
into the veins of this professional diner
out. The fish and game and pate that
followed were all triumphs Of the Gull
nary art, and the hungry man cloyed the
edge of his appetite, not by the bare
imagination of feast, but by the feast
itself It was no feast Of the Barmecede
either, for the viands were actual, and
the wine was not a pretense, but de-
lightful vintage, served in cut glass COB
lets The poor professor felt like saying
to his neighbor, "Pinch mel" for it was
like dream or an illusion rather than
a reality.
But the striking of the clock reminded
him that he had been there an hour, and
as be had broken the spell Of the un-
lucky 10 he venthred to excuse HIM
self and rose stiffly from his place and
bowed himself out Of the room.
He was followed by a servant who
handed him an envelope with the COM
ailments of the gentleman with whom
he had Just dined. Not for worlds would
be have opened it, though it was unseal-
ed, before the man, but he accepted it
graciously and went up stairs to get bis
hat and overcoat unattended.
A number of handsomely appointed
chambers were on the upper hall, and
the professor glanced into each as he
passed on his way to the partien Lar g9est
chamber where he had left his belong
ipgs Perhaps he was a trifie overcome
by sherry and other beverages, but ne
thought the room had been dlarkssened
and that he was right. He stood mo-
ment in the doorway and looked eau
siously in, peering about at the luxury,
but at tbs same time noting that it was
pot the dressing reoni for which he was
btIOlG uC COtllu SlSE DoGES
turn down the corridor again the nnex:
pected happened, He received Sudden
and violent push from behind, which
flung him forward out Of the doorway
into the room, the door was instantly
locked upon him, and he was a prisoner.
sfSnythe luck!" said the poor man
as he tried in VAIN to open the door and
knew by the rumpus he could hsar cut.
sids that the house was in a state Of ex:
citemena 81 suppose they will think !!
was trying to steal something"
And to add to his terror he heard the
alarmed household coming up stairs,
and the next moment the door of his
room was opened, and his host, backed
by all the male guests, stood in the open
doorway.
''What are you doing here?" Was tfs
first question his host propounded. '"Tel
the truth now as you would hope fol
mercy. ~
y came here to get nay has ant
coat" said the professor, the dignity o
all the Smythes since Mount Ararat il
his thin, rasping tones.
"a likely story. Turn your pocket
s.,osLo o.,4 oo,,,,,,o,,dod tho hood