The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1902-08-09

than an impressionable enthusiast
who had tormented himself into a fan
cied condition of utter ruthlessness by
dwelling overmuch upon he wrongs of
others.
SO cambridge thought; and he knew
his opinion was shared with frank
unanimity by all of Griswold's friends,
who agreed in calling him Utopian, al
truistic, visionary. What milder cpl
thets could be applied to Il man who,
with sufficient literary talent--not to
say genius-to make himself a work
ing name in the ordinary way, must
needs run amucll and write novel
with purpose!-a novel, moreover, in
which the purpose so overshadowed
| the story as to make the book a mere
/ preachmcnt.
AS a matter of course, the publishers
would have nothing to do with the
book. cambridge remembered with
considerable satisfaction that he had
prophesied it's failure, and had given
Griswold no little good advice while it
was in the process of writing. But
! Griswold, being to he full as obstinate
as he was impressionable had refused
to be counseled, and now the conse-
quences of his stubbornness We're upon
him. He had said truly that his liter
, airy gift was novelistic and nothing
else; and here he was. pennilesss and
desperate, with dead book on his
, hands, and with no chance to write
since one cannot write fasting.
Thus cambridge reflected. and was
sorry that Griswold's invincible pride
had kept him from accertinga friendly
stop-gap in his extremity. Yet he
smiled in spite OF his sympathy. 1t
was amusing to think of Griswold,
who, as long as his slender patrimony
had lasted. had Leen emphatically
man not of the people, posing as an an
archist, and up in arms against the
world. None he less, he was to be
pitied.
| Poor devil. he is in the doldrums
now, and isn't quite responsible for
what he says or thinks--or for what he
thinks he thinks" said the journalist
to himself. Just the same, wish l
| had made him take that-Why, how
are you. Griffin? Where in the mis-
chief did you drop from?"
| 1t was the inevitable steamer ac-
quantance who is always at hand to
prove the exceeding narrnwness of the
world. and cambridge made room for
him on the settee.
81 didn't drop, | walked in. More
than that kept step with you all the
way down from Chaudiere's to the
leyee. You'd be dead easy game for an
amateur"
"Confound you!" said cambridge,
laughing. Can't you ever forget that
you're in the shadowing business?'
eyes; just as often and just as long
as you can forget that you are news
| hunter"
The Swallowed one laughed again,
and they smoked in silence until the
AdeIuntado doubled the bend in the
river and the last outposts of the city's
| lights disappeared in the blackness.
Then Griffin said:
"Who was the fellow you were talk
ing to in front of Chaudiere's? His
! face is familiar enough, but l can't
! place him.
The question fell in with the report
cr's train of thought, and he answered
it rather more fully and freely than he
might have at another time under diff
fcrcnt conditions. From telling who
Griswold was, he slipped by easy de-
grees into the story of his ups and
downs. ending with a vivid little word
| painting of The scene in Chaudiere's.
"''o hear him talk. you would think
he was a hloody-minded anarchist of
the thirty-third degree ready to sweep
the existing order of things off the
face of the EARTH" he added; "but in
reality he is one of the best fellows in
the world. gone Il bit morbid over the
social problem. He has a heart of gold,
rs happen to know. He used to spend
good deal of his time in the backwa-
ter. and you know what the backwater
in Il big city isl
"Yes."
"Wcll. one night he stumbled into a
cellar somewhere down in the lower
ing for fellow that he had been try
ing to find work fora crippled long
shorcman. I believe he was. When he
got into the place he found the man
stiff. the woman, with the death-rattlc
in her threat, and Il twu-year-old baby
creeping back and forth between the
dead father and the dying mother
starvation. YOU know, pure and sim
pie. Grswuld jumped int % the breach
like Il man and tried to save the wom-
an. II was too late; but when the
mother died. he took the child to his
own eight-by-trn attic and nursed and
; fed it till the missionary people took
ii off his hands. He did that. mind you,
when he WAS living ON two meals a day
himself; and fancy he skipped one of
them to buy milk for that kid"
"llnmph! And he calls himself an
anarchist, does ne? lisa bowling pity
there amt a lot more just like him,
said the detective, sententiously.
; "That is what | say cambridge
agreed. Then, with sudden twings OF
5 remorse for having told Griswold's
story to n stranger, he changed the
: subject with an abrupt question.
| where are you headed for, Griffin? .
The detective chuckled. "You don't
: expect me to give il away to you-a
A newspaper man-do YOU? But ! will
spriuu Won can't ret if on the wires