The Hocking sentinel. [volume] (Logan, Ohio) 1871-1906, 1896-11-19

"HE night before thanksgiving the
city was ablaze with lights. The
L first snow had fallen and the air
itself seemed light hearted. The massive
mansions that surround Gramercy Park
were brightly lighted.
In muffled silence n young man cloak
less and gloveless hurried by the iron
bars that fence in the little acre of the
rich toward his lodging place.
For five years Jack Fleming had lived
alone. No one knew very much about
him, except that he was thriftiess, in
dolent genius. When his father died the
fortune that might have gone to him had
endowed certain wealthy charitable in
stitutions. His mother had died in his
infancy, and Jack Fleming had grown up
with the servants and his books for COM
panions. He had never seen enough of
his father to love him. In his childhood
Jack had had one friend, Dora Goldth-
wait. She was a beautiful girl, several
years his junior, who lived in the house
adjoining his fathers, and every day one
or the other would climb the fence that
separated them and drop over into the
little yard for a romp. Dora was proud
of her protector and playmate, for even
then Jack was full of book knowledge,
and Dora soon learned to love Shakespeare
and Milton as read aloud by her hero.
Another great tramping place for the
little people was Gramercy Park, for both
houses faced the handsome playground
and Mr.. Goldthwait and Jacks father
were among the favored rich who pos
sessed keys to the great iron gates that
smut out the children of the poor, who
often lined the iron fence and peered
wistfully between the bars at the smiling
lawn within.
The children were lrseparable until
Jack was 10 and Dora u. Then Jack
went 20 college, but every holiday found
him at home again, and often books went
by the board and Jack came home on the
sly to see his little sweetheart. OF course,
on these occasions he was smuggled into
Dora's home, and good-ratured, easy-go
ing Mr.. Goldthwait would have thought
it the basest treachery for any member
of his family to inform his next door
neighbor, Jacks father, shat his son was
playing truant.
After three years at college Jack was
hopelessly behind in his studies, and his
father, still ignorant Of the reason, called
him blockhead. One day Jack received
a tender, loving letter from Dora asking
him to come home at once, as her father
had just received word from England
that he had fallen heir to large property,
including a theater in one of the large
cities, and the business of the latter was
in urgent need of his immediate attention.
The family would sail for England imme-
diately, but Dora wanted Jack to go with
tb4,,, h4 4 r..
receiving the letter Jack stood in front
of the Goldthwait residence ON Gramercy
Park. 1t was closed. No servant an
swered the bell, and Jacks heart fell like
lead. Again he looked at the letter. 1t
was dated two days before and had been
delayed in the mails. A. home he found
his father, but in mood in which he had |
never seen him before.
"You young rascal!' he shouted. as
Jack entered. $50 you nave been wasting |
your time next door, instead of studying"
No pleading on the part of Jack could |
induce the turbulent old man to tell |
where the Goldthwaits had gone
'Never mind" thought Jack, 81 will |
hear from her soon, and them
But no letter came. Weeks heightened |
into months and Jack grew tall and thin
One day he went up to his college town.
and an inquiry at the postofiice ELECTED |
the fact that several letters had come. I'D !
to a month ago, but they had been for
warded to Gramercy Park.
That night father and son faced each
other for the last time.
"Where are the letters Dora wrote to
ne? demanded Jack, as he leaned over
toward the old man. who stood smiling
in his face.
81 told you that if you refused to return
% college you would regret it," was the
'eply.
Jack turned on his heel and passed out
If the house.
He found it a harder struggle than he
expected. His income fluctuated from
lext to nothing to nothing itself He be-
,ame first a wanderer among apartments,
hen among boarding houses. and at last
IN inhabitant of Furnished rooms" who
tie at cheap restaurants-when he could
at at all.
He had lived week in a rear hall bed
DOM on Twenty-second street before he
discovered that its windows were only