The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1901-08-27
> THE :
BARON'S STORY
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

made him unusually enu6lVe. calleO
on him every evening. Once, few
days before his death, he detained me
until daybreak. He was full Of pathos
and sad humor, and he told me much
of his past life. He was apparently
ashamed of this mood of his and vainly
struggling against it. At last he raised
himself from his pillow. with gesture
of despair, saying:
tits no use trying to be strong and
manly and so forth and so on when the
machine is all out of gear We old folk
are like babies. We want people to cud-
die us, to sigh over us. We are hungry
for attention"
/ must add that with all his laxative
ness and sentimentality and in spite Of
his sincere aversion to being addressed
as baron there was something In his
bearing and manner Of speaking which
kept reminding one that he was a
baron after all.
The story of Countess M. who
brought him to New York. where he
was to cease being a German without
UCCOlul1lA dA AuSIlCd1 90 AC put Az 40
one of the episodes l heard from him
that night.
Her father, Polish nobleman In re-
duced circumstances, settled in Ger
many when Herr Schmidt" was a
sublicutenant. The young mans regi-
ment was stationed in humdrum.
out of the way town. and the advent of
the countess (she was a young widow
made a stir.
"She was pretty. That goes without
saying" he said, with the wistful look
which scarcely ever left his peaked
sallow face during that week. But by
telling you this tell you nothing, for
her real power over me was something
which married her good looks rather
than enhanced them. She had queer
way Of avoiding to meet your glance
when she spoke to you which did not
become her. At first l made up my
mind that she was an affected, disin-
genuous creature. / prided myself up
on my insight into human nature In
those days. 1t was my mother who had
put that notion into my head. l was
her pet. don't you know; so she was
forever discovering some new sort Of
genius in me. / was prophet of the
human soul among lot of other good
things, and for some reason this title
pleased me more than anything else.
In other words, heartily agreed with
her that was prophet and so forth
and SO on. Well, when / met the count
ess for the first time and found that
she could not look me full in the face
said to myself, Liars look like that
II was rather elated by this manifes-
tation of my wisdom, l can tell you
that but soon had to change my mind
about the young woman. l saw her
again and again, and two months had
scarcely passed before knew her as
well as did my sister. Well, she turn
ed out to be the most truthful and sin
cere person had ever seen. AS to her
habit of looking away from her inter-
locutor, it was an Unborn trick, due to
some sort Of kink in her nervous sys-
TEN, suppose. However 1t may have
been, those unsteady, bashful eyes of
hers disturbed my peace Of mind and
were the source of the whole trouble.
why doesn't she look upT Dashed If
don't get her to stare me straight in
the eyes for ten minutes together and
so forth and so on. She was candor it.
self. and if any one was bashful it was
rather than the countess, yet was
crazy to put her at her ease, to gain her
full confidence. The prophet of the
human soul was simply hopeless fool.
That was the long and short of 1t. OF
course did not give up the struggle, as
some ordinary mortal might have done.
Prophetlike, took to philosophizing,
generalizing. calling into play my in
sight
with a flourish of trumpets made
the discovery that 1t was the mystery
of those eyes of hers which was trou-
bling my brain and my heart. The re-
suit was the same as when doctor
puts on learned airs and makes men,
tai note of the diagnosis In his pa
TENTS case Look here If Shakespeare
really thought there was nothing in q
name he was grievously mistaken. A
name is either worse than nothing or
everything. When the doctor does not
know what ais me, he knows at least
that he does not know. Let him ar
rive at the Conclusion that / am sur
fering from something with certain
double breasted Latin name to 1t, and
he Will think he has seized the devil by
his tail Yet ali he has actually caught
is some big Latin word. That's all.
Mysterious look indeedl Phrases Of
this kind are invented by story writers
to bamboozle their readers, and l In
vented mine to bamboozle my own self.
All did know was that l was In love
with the young countess-in love like a
ninny, like an IDIOT
The countess brought with her some
money, but her father went through 1t
in less than six months. He was
good natured, pompous old spendthrift,
and when he was not Boosting Of his
ancestry he was lamenting the defunct
glory of Poland, or else he would bore
the loyelorn young officer with verse
in his native tongue.
Pardon me, sir" the other would
plead, 'but have not the honor Of an
acquaintance with the Polish Ian
guage."
''Ah, but the music of the words,
sirv' the old man would return. "Mu-
sic is the language of the angels, as one
Of our writer's says. and the angels
ought to be able to make themselves
understood to good man like yourself.
Tell me, sir, have you ever heard any
thing sweeter than And the old pa
triot would go on reciting his ode with
more ecstasy than ever.
Once he broke into sobs over the fate
of the country which had produced this
melodious language. Herr Schmidt"
was at once touched and amused, and
the upshot of 1t was that the Pole bor-
rowcd few hundred thalers of him.
Here my Second avenue friend has