Cameron County press. [volume] (Emporium, Cameron County, Pa.) 1866-1922, 1900-12-20

1ON oh6ht " nave huOWh, ut StOIm
ed, "since you write. You writer's, you
have no respect for the private affairs of
people, so you make money out of them,
you publish anything. Nothing is private
to you. Nothing is sacred
"Doddy," | demonstrated, that was no
private affair. You said it right there at
the table with dozen listening. Didn't
youT
II did," he acknowledged defantly,
'but do you suppose l thought once ot
your The accent on that you came
near bringing the tears. II forgot you
were a penny-a-liner; that you were sit
ting there taking the thing down, con-
graduating yourself that you were to get
so much a word for it,"
"a penny-a-inerr' $50 much n word"
A penny-a-liner doesn't get so much n
word even.
"Doddy," l said presently, quite calmly,
too, considering everything, Il didn't get
n cent for that anecdote, not red cent.
1t was a private letter not intended for
publication. Won't you believe that?"
"You can't believe anything these peo-
pie who write say" he declared. "They
mix their Imagination up so with facts
that they get so they can't tell the truth
You know it. And now see what you
have done. You have made me notori,
Gus. Do you suppose | want cheap news
paper notoriety like thatf | hate it! !
hate it!'
I was stricken to the dust-mute. In
storm of anger he flung himself out of
the room and slammed the door.
After that he sat dumb and unforgiv
ing at one end of the long table, and I
sat silently Mt the other. 1t was impos-
sible to catch his eye. He refused by so
much as look to reveal his cognizance
Of my existence.
Then Christmas day approached. We
had arranged for the day, Doddy and |.
We had prepared to ward off homesick-
ness, to certain extent at least. He
was tc make me present, and | was tn
make him one.
There is little bust of Napoleon in
shop down in the Rue st. Honore that
want" | told him. you get it for
me, and 1 will buy you a cigarette case
in the same shop. They cost about the
same money. Is it q got"
"Its CO." answered he, and we shook
hands on It.
As matter OF fact, had already pur
chased the cigarette case. 1t was stow
ed away in the bottom of my armoire
drawer for safe keeping. Now and again
l took it out and looked at 1t, thinking
how proud the boy would be to offer his
cigarettes in that pretty new case in the
place of his old one, which was finger
marked and worn at the edges.
And now it was all over. Perhaps he
would scorn to take it from me, penny
a-liner, a scribbler who mixed up lie:
imagination with facts in so alarming
a manner that she had at last arrived at
stage wherein she could no longe:
speak the truth.
The morning arrived, and, as | say, ii
not only rained, but it poured. deposit
ed Il franc or two in the hand of Bethe,
who brought me my chocolate, to remind
myself that it was Christmas day, and oc-
cupied myself brisllly with my toilet to
| keep from thinking what a royal good
| time they We're all having at home. Then
| | 4ave a few francs to Florence of the
| velvet foot and to Aimc, the cook, ufte'
| which | went out into the rain to the
| Care st. LaZare, where | bought a great
| bunch of French roses for mademOiscllp,
| presented them to her, received her
| thanks and compliments, profusely cN-
| pressed in English so fractured as to be
scarcely recognizable, and retiring to my
| IOOlIy NOlhtu All dalS IDilE at lIltll penny
a-liner business for which l was so look
ed down upon by the boy from Milwau-
! kee, trying to pretend that it was only
an ordinary every day and not Christmas
| at all.
From my window l could see the rain
descending dsmally into the court, the
palms huddled In one corner and the big
drcnched bronze girl, whose uplifted
arms, holding up the lamp, gave me at
times Il feeling of such intense weariness.
One bright spot alone cleaned through
the window Of the concierge's room,
which was opposite mine, two stories be-
| low. 1t was his fire over which he bent,
reading all the letters before he sent
hem up to the rooms.
The day passed somehow, and it was
evening. The boy had not come to din
ner. | sat waiting for him in my room
l waited a long time. l had his cigarette
case in my hand ready, for after Christ
mas day of such loneliness l was deter
mined, If possible, to make friends with
him again. | was afraid of going t.
sleep and dreaming the day all over again
otherwise.
At last | heard his latchkey in the
door and his footstep in the hall. wait
ed until he should have had time to light
his candle; then, softly opening my door
went out and halted, looking at him.
He was standing by the heavy mahog
any table upon which fickered his candle
i haven't much pride when it comes to :
question of happiness or unhappiness. Ii
lowly manner | approached him. HI
started at seeing me, but glanced up with
= go, - IL