The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1901-09-01
A Memory
of JulyA


.r,. against the rec arch Of the gateway.
-. had come to lie conclusion that it WAS
.,.,t IN walk "a 10 draw-to do anything
- s,ct. but dream. Resides. he had been
- ill., and he felt that ne deserved for
- 20 be idle. As he stood, with eyes
80 closed. his arm resting on the worn
-.,,e that felt cool to his touch on this
sing July afternoon. ne pictured TO him
-srf a procession of strange figures passing
avn the roadway. in the glimmering
i.gr+ beyond the archway they glded by
.t--,rah the dead centuries. Men in armor,
.Ieeo+ions from the slowly-howing river
-trikfnq silver helmet and breastplate;
-+s+elv gentlemen in black velvet with long
-erks encased in ruffs, DANES in full skirts
~ ..taffeta" with bright eyes smiling under
tbefr hoods. Then broadfaced Flemings
came past sailors with pigtails, sour puri-
tans and testing cavaliers, princes and
sturdy beggars. Once or twice the man
started at the incongruity of some utter
auce echoing from the road, or one Of the
scsriet-sailed barges on the water before
him The modern slang word, the coarse
Or vapid laugh. Jared upon his nerves. 1t
g-as some moments before he could again
take I'D the thread of those pleasant mag
irfngs But anyhow, in however prosaic an
epoch ne might be living, he could console
himself with the knowledge that on this
particular July day life was a very good
thing. Every instant of it seemed to hold
some new and distinctive Joy. The atmOs-
pbere simmering with heat as it was,
was vet pure and healthful. The green
English landscape through the gateway
possessed the charm and color that a trav-
eler home from many lands sees with
poignant pleasure that is akin TO tears
The sweeping bOughs of the ash trees in a
grove beyond the daisied field cast shad-
Ows in which children had stretched them
selves to rest after school. The scarlet sails
Of the barges gave vivid patches of color
which served to heighten the repose Of this
grass-grOwn expanse. To the left, a row of
tiled houses, sleepy, oldfashiOned dwell
ings led to the bridge. and yet another
gateway. The man slowly opened his
sketch-book I've wasted a whole after
noon again." he found himself saying
aloud. He yawned sighed, inhaled the air
which held mingled scent of tar and lime
blossoms, and took a last look upward at
the arch, where. in old days, the portcullis
had been raised to admit the traveller.
Then another and longer gaze at the fields
from which a soft. hot mist was rising.
His steps led him down silent streets to-
wards the inn where he had taken I'D his
quarters. He drew near and pictured to
himself how the figure of the merry mon
arch must have looked when, as the
townsfolk tell US, he halted at the door
way and quaffed a Gun of sack before he
rode on towards the seaport town some
miles beyond. He almost fancied that he
could hear the Clatter of the horses hOOfs
on the cobblestones and the jingle Of spurs,
and that he could see the bewigged mayor
IN his robes bowling ObsequiOusly at the
Kings bridIe-rein. Then the swarthy face
with the black curls hanging round it, the
eourtiers. the horses and pages, vanished
round the corner Of the street, and Mr..
Walter Alleyne found himself in the new
ly-restored entrance hall of his hotel, with
its very modern upholstery, and its clus-
ters of gOIfsticks in the corner He
mounted the stairway, went down the cor
ridor. and the several little flights of steps
which still give the inn its character of an
old-world house. and ordered tea in the
coffee room.
What a mercy TO have no evening pa
pers." he thought. as he took a parcel of
letters. neatly strapped together, out of
his pocket and re-read one or two. The
waiter came in bringing a nickel teapot,
thick, soft toast and some jam. Mr.. AL
lcyne was in "A humOr to be pleased with
most things. The sOmnOlent charm Of the
town had exercised a wholesome effect on
his WORKOUT nerves. He had had an un-
usually hard spell Of work in London, and
the do-nothinE life of the last few days
had been to him an unmixed delight. He
had astonished the hotel manager by not
caring TO play golf; for he found that loaf
ing by the river bank, strolling in long
grass which rustled and whispered at his
feet and listening TO the song Of the larks,
who seemed almost delirious with joy, had
more than satisfied him. He was thorough
~ tired out. Ii was gratifying to find that
no familiar friend seemed likely to come
his way. Any one looking at him, as he SAT
stirring his tea, and glancing from time to
time al his letters, would have guessed him
TO be a hard worker. His clean-shaven
face had the sallow tinge of man whose
occupation keeps him in a vitiated atmOs-
phere-the lines round his mouth and
across his forehead might have scanned the
face of a man ten years older. His eyes
when he raised them to glance at the patch
of velvety blue above the opposite gables
were keen and shrewd. as If more accus-
toned TO note the fOibles Of humanity
than the graces of nature. Though in nc
ordinary sense good looking, Alleyne'S
face was somewhat attractive from its
alertness of expression, and the air OF
kindly humor that seemed to fit across il
when he spoke and smiled. His figure was
slight and active, mis- hands strong and
refined in shape He poured himself out g
second cup Of tea, and the head waiter
came in again with the bland, half-patron-
izing smile on his lips that he considered
suitable TO his position. He laid a printed
circular on the table before Mr.. Alleyne.
90 a concert" said that gentleman, with
an air of indifference that vexed the heac
waiter not a little.
Tickets can be procured In the hotel
sir he remarked firmly.
Thank you, thank you'-and Alleyn'
laid down the circular, and looked thought
fully at the overhanging roof of the op
posite house.
Shall / say you require tickets, sir?'
remarked the head waiter with grave per
slstence. It's for a good hobjeck." he con
unued, rather more sternly, as this gentle
man seemed very absent-minded.
All right, all right said Mr.. Alleyne
Suddenly looking round And he laid Z
sovereign on the cloth BY the cruet stand
CIV many tickets shall 1 book, sir?'