The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1895-09-05
HIS FAILURE.

SAloAAu ACNCl navy hllONu tIub ut
was a failure if he had not told me so
himself. Most assuredly he had not the
air of one. For his coats were always
f~ashionably cut, and his taste in ~liqueurs
was almost as delicate as my own, and
he could afford to crafty it far more
frequently.
Such was the testimony of appearance,
and so far as l knew his history it point
ed to the same conclusion. He had been,
l understood, n writer, like myself,
though even less successful, and then
fortunate speculations' had enabled
him to retire from a calling which he
found more honorable thar
tive and spend his afternoons in playing
billiards at the club.
And yet Everard Deane esteemed him
self a failure: IHe told me so emphatic
ally one evening at the hour when
truth ''peeps over the glass's edge when
dinners done"
1T was all that COMPOUNDED Stock Ex-
change" he murmured, gazing gloom
lily into a glass of green chartreuse.
I begged him to accept my cordial
congratulations. Its a better way to
fail than most l said. For I had
known SO many who failed upon the
Stock Exchange and lived happily
drinking champagne and driving about
in broughams-ever afterward.
5 But Everard Deane protested.
- don't mean what you mean," he
said. "fdidn't lose money on the Stock
Exchange. made it-lots Of it. That
is the mischief Of it. That is precisely
why I am a failure"
He looked gloomier than ever as he
spoke and ordered a second green char
treuse.
Jerking his head SO as to indicate a
man at the farther end Of the room-a
well dressed man, excessively bejeweled
with whom, half an hour since, he
had cordially shaken hands, he whis-
pered:
"That is the man who has been my
evil genius. You know him"'
II think so. It's Morrison Parker, the
great financier, isn't it?'
1T is, and Morrison Parker, the great
%fnancier, has been my evil genius. It's
a foolish story, but l sometimes like to
tell it after dinner. A brandy and Soda"
l accepted, and when the waiter had
brought the glasses Everard Deane re-
sumed:
II was an author, you know-a young
authOr-with great aims and high am
billions. / made enough money to live
upon by writing for the papers, but I
looked upon literature, not as a trade,
but as an art. l was a member of the
Waste Paper club, where all Of US pro-
fessed to take the same artistic views of
life and letters and sat up till the small
hours discussing them through a haze
OF tobacco smoke and steaming grog. !
was very happy there until the day came
when Morrison Parker joined the club.
he owned a newspaper-The Stock Elk,
change Recorder, l think he called it
and therefore he was technically quail
fed. But when he came and sat up with
Us in the small hours he did not talk
literature. He talked finance.
Yet the two subjects may occasion
ally have relations with each other"
suggested.
Precisely. That is the point tina
Morrison Parker used to insist upon
especially when he had had a good da,
and made US drink champagne will
him to celebrate his luck. why do s,
many half educated city men profess t.
look down on authors?' he would ask
And then he would answer his owl
question. Because there isn't one au
thor in 500 who knows how to max
El.OOO a year. That has always bee,
the great reproach Of letters, from Dr.
Johnson's time to ours. It's high tim
to put an end to that reproach. VIII
don't you fellows do it,"
l sighed, wishing that I knew how t
put an end to it myself, and then l ask
ed:
And did your friend descend fro1
the general to the particular and te
you how it could be done?"
HE did. He told us all to open
speculative account in L~ouisvilles."
"Louisvilles? That is the name of q
American railroad, I believer"
1T is. And opening q speculative q
count buying the shares witho,
being able to pay for them, selling the,
q . profit and putting the difference
your pocket. Simple, isn't it?"
VERY simple" I said. "The mere