Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1902-12-24

CHAPTER I.
THE PROBLEM.
By HOWARD FIELDING
= HAVE known Donald Donaldson

HAVE known Donald Donaldson,
Jr., ever since he was born; in
deed, may say, much longer.
There is an entry about him in
my diary under date of March 10, 1877,
and that is about four years before he
saw the light and nearly two years be-
fore l first heard of either of his par
ents or they of each other. In plain
words, he was an ideal of mine, SUBJ
ject of speculation and study, dweller
in my brain before he had an actual
existence. SO that he might be a tenant
of my heart.
1t is singular that two romances,
many mysteries and very startling
tragedy should hang upon SO small and
commonplace a peg as this which
shall show you. Twenty odd years ago
l made an appointment with Stephen
Hackett, then my partner and since
deceased, to meet him in New York
bookstore, choosing the place simply
because 1t was convenient. was ahead
of him and of the hour, indeed, and
while waiting took up volume en-
titled Psychic Marvels." by an Eng
lish writer whom l now perceive to
have been both credulous and menda-
cious, man to believe good lie and
improve it in the telling. In those days.
however, l had read little, and the book
appealed to me as scientific presenta
ton Of a subject of great interest and
Importance too often Stunned by prac-
ffno1 mo n nd loft IN, "a thn Of i'm.
posters
When Hackett arrived, was sitting
on top of small stepladder ON rollers,
device common in bookshops while
two polite clerks were vainly endeayor-
ing to gain my attention for the pur-
pose of telling me that the business of
the establishment was suffering for
lack Of that ladder. bought Psychic
Marvels," and we devoted the evening
to 1t, Hackett and l, in the library Of
my house in Tunbridge, N. j.
Now, If you please. that was the
cause of Donald Donaldson, Jr. If l
had not suggested the bookstore as a
place of meeting, If that particular vol
ume had not caught my eye, perhaps
even If the stepladder had not been
placed handily for me to sit upon.
there would be no story for me to tell.
But some one built the store, and some
| one wrote the book, and some one else
was the father Of the author, and an
other was his grandfather, and so on
back to the monkey who was the an
cestor Of them all, not to go further.
mt f, f,,, AZ
ment of our race, though we know al
ready that the whole past of the uni
verse Is the cause of every blade of
grass, even as that blade itself is an
essential prop of the whole future. It
is worthy effort, however, to see as
much of this vast skein as we can,
and he is wisest who sees most, pro-
vided that he does not fancy that he
sees all which exists even in the small
| portion that is under his eye.
To resume my story, Hackett and I
spent studious evening with "Psy-
chic Marvels," sitting up SO late that
neither of us was fit for business on
the following day, and we were led to
read many other books and to engage
Ut luSI III prdctiCal, common sense
investigation Of an interesting subject.
The firm of Hackett & Harrington
manufactured carpets-still does SO, in
fact-and keeps the name, though my
partner long since closed his earthly
account and went to meet another
which could not have been one to
shame him. hope my own may be
as good, for 1t must soon be closed.
Tunbridge people began to call me
"old" John Harrington matter Of ten
years ago. However, in the days of
which am now writing was a young
man Of forty-two. and Hackett was not
much older. We had made good bit
of money in our business, and both of
US had been fortunate in outside In
yestments, SO that we felt very secure.
The time had come when we might
afford to relax the pressure under
which we had labored since boyhood
and to take more ease and pleasure il
the world. But the opportunity to en-
joy is one thing and the power is an
other. I had little appetite for amuse
Az u . s.s