The Montgomery advertiser., 1902-02-01
THE ADVERTISERS DAILY SHORT STORY

Tbe p,av wa. s'Richard H." and 1t was during an intermission that I noticed him sitting opposite-a shriveled little man, colored in faded sepia tints, with blind-seeming eyes By those eyes l recognized him; for when had last seen him. fifteen years ago, he had not been shriyeled at all and that head. half bald and half gray. had been well coVereo with rich brown locks: but the same eyes Greeks gave their statues by dispensing with eyes altogether. I was filled with sympathy. What could have changed him so? Ill healthf Trou-
 GoldenSSoats. Gts nm % i siIver-tongue, as had fondly nicknamed him in boyish edmira- l tion. For Professor Eustis had the rar- est gift of eloauence that l have ever meditated flood of beautiful, classical English for couple of hours at time He was that most attractive kind Of IL erary man. naturally poet. put With
 and superstructure of logic. So when he spoke you would be sure of beautiful imagery, sometimes springlike, Chaun- cerlan, with the delightful changing light and shade of the first fuller-hgntea days of March; again. there was never ever any one who could be at the same time so tropical and yet so chaste. Neverthe- less, it was not for this that ne spoke
 you heard him Thers Was nstrct,oy aiWays His fault, and that an ineradicabie one was a lack of sympathy with nIe- l his life was entirely In his nina. ne l was conscious of this, and had tried to overcome 1t. I am sure. for l have never known any one more unfailingiy klnd and cordial of manner. But his ref1ne- ment was so far removed from the cru-
 dity of Crdnary %e tSese seas cr~de | ordinary mortals are honest eno9gh 10 acknowledge real superiority when It | comes before them. so that he had a
 goodly number of admirers and friends l I crossed the theatre, took the vacant place beside him and was soon listening | to a richer conversation than that Of old well, John, I was quite proud the other daw to see that one of my old boys had taken his Ph. D. I congratu- late you
 Thanks. yes-and what are the rights
 and privileges appertaining thereto? On
 commencement days President C. ut
 ters that praise with large and lordly
 air, as though he were conveying to us
 some mysterious wealth, veritable
 treasure of Monte Cristo; and at the
 same time he smiles. generous, yet
 slightly humorus smile-the same that
 one wears in the game of Hold fast t
 "Why. the right to work aright- You know how to work in the domain of truth and light. The right to deive in the mines, to plough the fields, to forge the metals, to traffic in all the marts and on all the seats. for the benefit of hu-
 msnity. The privilege of holding com munication and intimate companfonship with the great minds of this and every age. We'll may Dr. C. smile to feel | himself the almoner of such gifts as | these, John; how noble is the life of the searcher for truth ty the indu ;tive | method. Who loves the truth so much
 as he who makes himself a slave for | the truth?'
 Just then Richard did something bad and the people laughed again | Why are these peQplo laughing? A | high moral indignation would seem to be | more appropriate.
 An my boy, still good at asking ques- | tions Richard Crouchback Is a fairy tale | to frighten children with. King Shake speare Is only trying to make our hair | stand pleasantly on end. and in as open | and mischievous a manner as Stevenson | in some of his horrors or Orphant Annie
 with her witch tales by the evening | frelight' You know Shakespeare is far | from being historically servile in this l play It Is he and not Richard who does l these prodigiously immoral. not im- | moral, things. for the simple purpose of 1 causing us to go back to- the days of | our childhood, before we became casu-
 ists, the days when we could be amused | -s.,- ..n-,. .sNE pOuEMIA hv E,ru