Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1901-04-03
LATE FORTUNE.

STAGE Sorts, married Mona Veronica,
third daughter of James Morant, NJ. B.,
some time organist of Drulisle cathedral
At that time Banks was an author and
journalist and also child of promise.
Every one knew that he was going to do
great things when his youthful, brilliant
etervescence had passed off. Arthur So
ris Banks himself knew it. At that time
he worked about one day week when
he found work that he felt suited him.
ana when he did not find it he never
worked at ALL AS bachelor and a Bo-
hemian he had very little use for money.
In the fifth year after his marriage
with Mona, to whom he was ever devot-
ed. he was working seven days a week
and some of the nights as well. He was
doing any work that offered and doing il
as quickly as he could. He had multi
piled his income by six and his expenses
by seven. He was much more a Journal
ist than he was an author. There was
no more question of effervescenee. and
the editors could send his stuff up to the
printer without bothering to read it first.
The critics on the rare occasions when
they spoke of Eustace Sorts at all spoke
of him with a gentle regret. He had sold
his birthright, Of course; he had acquired
the deadly facility; he would never do
anything more than quite good hack
work now. He had passed out of the
will be into the might have been He
was sufficiently happy about it when he
was not too much in debt. He was hon
estly devoted to Mona, and he would not
under any consideration have been an
artist at the price of being a man. The
idea that Mona should be limited or that
the babies should lose their high position
in order to spare him anything would
merely have disguised him. He had by
this time raised his own standard of COM
fort and spent money more freely than
he had done in the days when, compare
lively, he had more to spend. The octo-
pus of second rate social position had
its suckers on him, and he gave up any
struggle except that which had for its
aim and end the finding of food for the
octopus. Mona would have checked him,
but this perverse ass was capable of
wanting for her what he had never even
thought about for himself.
She had been proud of her husbands
abilities, and certain following press cut
tings were still cherished by her. She
encouraged him in the weak luxury of
Specializing on what might not happen if
by some lucky chance he found himself
in a position when he could take his own
time over his work and was not depend
ent on 1t for his necessities. There he
never doubted. His literary ideals had
never changed, though he was now per-
force false to them every day of his life
He saw what was good work and how to
do it as well as ever he did. He even
believed that he had gained something
from experience. Once the necessity of
pot boiling had vanished he had GER
tainty that he would quit the ranks of
the might have been and put on his
wings. Mona believed that, too. as she
would have believed any good thing Of
her husband.
Then the chance came at last after
another FIVE years of the struggle. 1t
came in two golden months. Banks had
happened ~ some accident to open a
circular As n rule. he weeded out what
We're obviously circulars before he began
TO open his letters. This was the circular
of minor Germanic lottery, rotten and
fraudulent. With a cynical knowledge
that he was being swindled, Banks sent
for ticket As it happened. the lottery
had decided TO send a big prize over this
side as an advertisement and attraction.
\ nat hdpptuS uDOul OuNt III every
years. And Banks got the big prize.
The mist of accounts rendered rolled
away; there were even some judicious
investments. and Banks began to acquire
n habit, to which for years he had been
stranger, Of going to bed before mid
night. In the next golden month Banks
venomous and virulent great-aunt paid a
tardy tribute to the mortality returns.
For a long time Banks had never heard
of her or seen her. Ascribing to an in
dependent spirit what was really no more
than want of interest, she made her
great-nephew, Arthur Sorts Banks. rich
man. After the diamond tiara and the
new carriage horses Mona put her foot
down. I'VE will 20 on living" she said.
"as we have always lived. | am much
too old to want to change, but | do want
You to do the really fine thing now"
Banks. as usual agreed He began to
do the really fine thing. But there was
something missing. He sat and stared
at the paper and wondered what il was.
1t dawned on him slowly that it was
stimulus. to which he bad become accus-
toned. just as the efferent nerves will
not actuate the muscles until the afferent
nerves have delivered their message. so
II seemed that his intellectual processes
refused to respond now to anything but
the keen necessity for making money, to
which they had for so many years been
used. He merely sat and stared before
him. and for awhile at least nothing was
done. BY an effort of will he did at last
finish a novel which was to be really
good He knew it was not that. The
critics knew that it was heavy and la
bored and compared unfavoraby with
his journalistic work. and they said so.
The public said little and cared less, and
they did not buy that novel.
Ranks has given up all thoughts of
writing now. He speaks of the profess
sion of authorship with something almost
like disdain, and Mona is acquiring the
habit from him. He also has so much
else to do. Any man who suggests that
Banks is dropping out is always remind
ed OF that.
So there the matter stands. His fate
drove him from the FIRST rate to the sec
ond rate work And when fate repented
and gave him his chance to get back to
tho rate oCaii ha foun6 that no was