The Birmingham age-herald., 1902-10-05
uueried.

queried.
 | I shook my head.
 ''You can almost grasp 1t, can't youg' "Yes," answered.
 But not quite?"
 Not quite"
 Docs it worry you?" | Yes"
 ..Think it will cling to you, and fret you, vex you, haunt your
 T know 1t will"
 Think you'll ever fully compreheno it?p
 q can't say" I replied, thoughtfully- 'Perhaps I may in time. Will you allow me to copy it?'
 What do you want with it?'
 q want to study it." I replied.
 And you're sure you don't understand it. and it worries you, and frets you, | and vexes you, and haunts you? Good. I'll read you the final clause now Una, that may throw a light of some kind on It; and. opening the scroll, again he read: What is it? Who will rightly guess If it be ought but nothingness That dribbles from a wayward pen To spatter Tn the eyes of men? What matterl I will call it mine,
 And will take the changeling home And bathe it's face with morning shine,
 
 Till every tangled tress of rhyme
 Will fairer be than summer-time And I will nurse it on my knee,
 And dandle it beyond the clasp
 Of hands that grip and hands that
 grasp,
 Through life and all eternity!'
 Now what do you think of it?" he asked with a savageness that startled me.
 T am more at sea than ever," I re- piled.
 Well, I wish you a prosperous voy- age, Here's the poem; I've another copy. Read and reflect, as the railroad pos ter says. but don't you publish 't-at least while I'm alive, for I've no thirst for literary fame-I only write for home use; but you're good fellow, and like you for all your weak points, and trust the confidence I repose will not be dis- regarded. Come!
 He had opened the door and was hold ing out his hand for the Key
 I gave it to him and followed out mechanically. He left the door ajar and followed to the bottom of the stairs
 And now if you'll pardon me- he said, 'I'll say goodbye to you here; We some packing to do and ought to be at it.
 why. you're not going to leave the city?' I asked.
 Well, no, not today; but the jig's up with me here, and it's only question of time--I can't hold out much longer as our rural friend remarks, Money mat ters is mighty sceerce'; and if l don't pull out shortly I'll have to fold my tent like the Bedouin and silently plagiar- ize awayH '
 "If could be of any assistance to you, I began, but he checked me ol, 4txatI xrrtfh n I a it, assure you; I've two dollars to your one, doubtless. Thank you just the same, and goodbye. Here's my card; it's not my name, however, but I'll answer; I'll not see you again, though you should live to be as bald as brickyard, for, my dear young friend. I'm going away. Goodbye, and may all good things over take youH
 He gripped my hand like a vice and turning quickly went skipping up the stairway two steps at time "Good-byer' I called to him, sorrow fully; then turned reluctantly away, ex- amining the card he had given me- which. to my astonishment, was not his card at all, but a railroad ticket entitlng the bearer to a ride from Danville, Illi- nois. to York, Pennsylvania; this fact I remember quite distinctly, as I read 1t over and over. revolving in my mind the impression that this was but another instance or his eccentrfcity or perhaps trick by which I might be victimized in some undreamed-of way. But upon | second thought concluded 1t to be sim ply a mistake, and so turned back ana | called him to the window above and ex- | plained.
 | He came down and begged my pardon | for the trouble he had given me, took the ticket, thanked me, and said good | bye again.
 But" said I, you haven't given me your real card in exchange" "Oh, no matter!' he said smilingly. | Gall me Smith, Jones, or Robinson, its all the same; goodbye and don't for l get your old friend and well-wlsher; the