Evening journal., 1899-07-07
That Beard Of ThOmpSOn'S
By Augusta Prescott.

IT WAS just like that terrible O'Toole
to come out in his laundering way
with; Thompson, you'd look great
deal better without beard. You have
a clear-cut face that ought not TO be
hidden"
1 know perfectly well that at that
moment my friend Thompson would
have liked TO hide his face in something
still more opaque than dark brown,
close-cropped beard. That is because
1 know the history of Thompson's
beard.
1t had two chapters-or two volumes
that history Of Thompson's beard.
The first volume is brief and devoid Of
interest-the beard grew when Thomp-
son was young and had just reached
the age of beard-growing. He liked the
idea of beard, ] suppose, as most boys
do. Later on, something - perhaps
O'Toole's idea that his face was a clear
gut gem and should be exhibited as a
Thing of beauty-struok him, and he
grew impatient Of his beard.
Now, in the course of that earlier vol
ume of this history, Thompson had be-
come pretty well known. Not only had
he been photographed for the usual So
cial purposes, but, having taken a
prominent part in various amatear COR
certs for prominent charities, having
acted twice as best man at mnch-roport-
ed weddings, and having won lawn
tennis championship for amateur
singles, Thompson's face had appeared
in the papers more often than falls TO
the lot of most plain citizens. Hence
the mischief
The day he had that beard removed
Thompson was like boy just freed
from school. A weight seemed TO be
off his mind. lie told me that it was
quite worth while to grow beard just
for the pleasure of getting rid of it and
running your hand over the smooth
surface.
He was not the sort of a man, how
ever, TO let the exuberance of his animal
spirits become mingled with those that
inebriate. / have to mention this to
guard against the impression that he
was in the least under the influence
of distilled or fermented liquors when
this thing happened that did happen.
Thompson went out calling that very
evening, and it so happened that the
family at which his call was aimed had
recently moved. In that family was
Amanda Carson, and she had taken
good care that Mr.. Thompson should be
informed of their new address-Aman-
da had no wish to lose sight OF Mr..
Thompson. Thompson had the address
in his little notebook, which he carried
in his vest pocket of his everyday busi-
ness suit. But before going out that
evening he put on his full dress suit,
and, looking at himself in the long mir
ror, reflected that in n dress suit and
smooth face he looked very well.
On reaching the street into which
the Carsons had just moved, ne began
saying to himself; "Ihe number is 35,
1 think
Then he thought it would be as well
TO take a look at that little notebook of
his. But when he put his hand TO the
4 place where the notebook should have
been, behold there was no notebook
Then IL flashed on him that his mind
had been distracted so much as to make
him forget TO take the notebook from
the other vest.
"Never mind" Thompson thought
81 know it's 35." Then he thought; III
il isn't 35 it's 53." Then: "Now,
wonder whether it is SO or 1852"
While he was thinking these things
7 Thompson happened TO glance TO the
right and notice a very newly-done-up-
looking house. the number on the fan
light of which was very distinctly
"No. 35."
"Of course that's it." said Thompson
to himself as he tripped lightly up the
fight of stone steps. This is the
house. Anybody can see that"
At the top Of the steps. it so hap
pened, the front door stood invitingly
open.
"Now," thought Thompson, "here's d
chance TO surprise Amanda. III clos,
. the door and go and sit down quietly IN
: her reception room. II she comes II
4 there presently-she's sure to--shel