The Bemidji pioneer., 1900-08-30
IN the second tragi-comody Of Johns

in the second tragi-comcdy Of Johns
existence.
Meanwhile. he had never written
home Whether from diffldence or
shame, or touch of anger, or mere
procrastination, or because (as we have
seem he had no skill in literary arts,
or because as am sometimes tempted
to suppose) there Is law in human
nature that prevents young en--not
otherwise beasts-from the perform
ance OF this simple act Of piety
| months and years had gone by.
and John had never written. The
habit OF not writing, indeed, was al
ready fixed before he had begun to
come into his fortune; and 1t was only
the difficulty Of breaking this long
silence that withheld him from an in
slant restitution Of the money he had
stolen or las he preferred to call IT'D
borrowed. In vain he sat before paper,
attending on inspiration; that heaven
Fly nymph, beyond suggesting the
words my dear father remained OBJ
stinately silent; and presently John
would crumple up the sheet and decide,
as soon as he had "a good chance TO
carry the money home in person. And
this delay, which is indefensible, was
his second step into the snares of for
tune. N
Ten years had passed, and John was
drawing near to thirty. He had kept
the promise Of his boyhood. and was
now Of a lusty frame, yerging toward
corpulence; good features, good eyes,
a genial manner, a ready laugh, a long
pair OF sandy Whiskers. a dash OF an
American accent, close familiarity
with the great American Joke, and
certain likeness to "a R-y-l P-rs-a-ge,
who shall remain nameless for me,
make up the mans externals as he
could be viewed In society. Inward
~. In spite OF his gross body and high
ly masculine whiskers, he was more
like maiden lady than a man OF
tWenty-nine. s
1t CHANGED one day, as he was stroll
Ing down Market street on the eve Of
his fortnight's holiday, that his eye
was caught by certain railway bills,
and In very idleness Of mind he cal-s
culated that he might be home for
Christmas il he started on the morrow.
The fancy thrilled him with desire. and
in one moment he decided he would go.
There was much to be done: his
portmanteau to be packed, credit to
be got from the bank, where he was
wealthy customer, and certain offices
to be transacted for that other bank in
which he was an humble clerk; and it
CHANGED, in conformity with human ma
ture, that out Of all this business it
was the last that came to be neglected.
Night found him, not only equipped
with money Of his own, but once more
(as on that former occasion) saddled
with considerable sum of other PEG.
pies. III. 81
Now 1t CHANGED there lived In the
same boarding house a fellow-clerk Of
his, an honest fellow. with what is
called a weakness for drink though It
might, in this case, have been called a
strength, for the victim had been drunk
for weeks together without the briefestI
|intermiss,on. To this unfortunate John
intrusted letter with an inclosure OF
bonds, addressed to the bank manager.
Even as he did so he thought he per-
ceived certain haziness Of eye and
speech In his trustee; but he was too
hopeful to be stayed, silenced the voice
Of warning in his bosom, and with one
and the same gesture committed the
money to the clerk, and himself into
the hands Of destiny.
dwell, even at the risk Of tedium,
on John minutest errors, his case
being SO perplexing to the moralist;
but we have done with them now, the
roll is closed, the reader has the worst
Of our poor hero. and / leave him to
Judge for himself whether he or John
has been the less deserving. Hence.
forth we have to follow the spectacle
of man who was a mere whip-top for
calamity; on whose unmerited nnisad-
ventures not even the humorist can
look without pity, and not even the
philosopher without alarm.
ITO BE CONTINUED,