Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1903-05-07
The Shadow
OF Hdppfness
BY IRVING BAohELLER.
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.

noon was m1dnlght, Then the REQ
door of Morcho was one of the gates
of the city opening on a strange and
merry way of life. They called it
the Roost because it was inhabited
chiefly by the nightfolk. A tall man
could almost touch its caves and had
to pay toll of reverence at its door
if he entered. Once in, he forgot all
care save that of stepping lightly
lest it fall upon him. The Roost had
grown, wing by wing, until it covered
half the short block, and now under
its roof were unexpected caverns far
back Of the red door at the sidewalk.
A big church fanked the little inn
and buried it under fathoms of gloom
as the sun came up. When it was
nearing noon, of bright day, a great
lever of sunlight thrust itself In
where the two buildings came close
together behind Morcho's, and lifted
on the bulk of shadow until it was
gone.
Morcho himself was man worth
knowing. he was an item Of ex-
pense in the moral economy of the
world, but the lesson of his life, if
one were able to make it clear, would
have some profit in it. He was a
brown little Spaniard who knew how
to cook and loved eating and drink
ing and good companionship. One
never sat under the barren beams of
the Roost and felt his blood warming
end the gloom going out of his soul,
in the smile of Morcho, without some
thankfulness for the like of him. But
that was a pleasure, with all its &C.
cessories, full of peril. There was in
it too much of the spice of life and
the cuisine. If one were his friend,
Morcho came and served him with
his own hand or sat beside him and
told stories and at the end of each
lifted his glass and said: Happy
dayl" Indeed, that was the conclu-
sion of every tale he told and, 1
make no doubt, of every dream he
dreamed. He came to misery in due
time, as did many who sat with him
there in the little inn, but he had to
be merry, to give the warm heart to
everyone, to eat when he had no
hunger, to drink when he had no
thirst. Otherwise he would not have
been Morcho and some who came
there would have sought host more
to their liking. 1t was as if he said:
"Is your heart heavy, my friend? l
have a merry little monkey of a soul
here in this body, and I'm going to
show you some of its tricks" He
had no thought of the evil in it all.
He was born a Castilian peasant and
had never heard any preaching about
temperance, and thinking was out of
his line. 1 knew he had heart of
lead some days, but even then the
glad hand, the toast Of Happy day."
the merry tale, were not withheld.
I had been out of New York a year
and, returning one summer night,
strolled to the little inn for supper.
Mine host had grown thin and pale.
He spoke in a rough whisper and
trembled with weakness. I could see
that the man was dying, but the inn
was already dead. A lonely guest sat
near me and Morcho was trying hard
to keep his feet and tell story. He
sank into chair at the end of it and
soon fell nodding. The coy rooms
were empty. The tables were neatly
spread, but where were the merry
feasters, the song and laughter that
rang to the roof in other days?
"Marcho," said the man who sat by
him, lifting his glass, "where are the
happy days?"
'Madre de Dios," he whispered.
Here's happy day!" and then he
took sip out of a glass that had
been waiting for him.
you're sick, Morcho," said the
man, drinking. you'd better go off
somewhere and take a rest" Then
he rose and paid the waiter and went
away.
Morcho had not seemed to hear him
and shortly came over to me, rubbing
his hands. He was bracing himself
for the task before him and his
smile came hard. I was an old GUS
toner and he must do his best to
please me.
81 not sick-no-o-o-oi" he whis-
pered. 81 be we'll purity quick"
He would have the waiter bring
glasses and bottle in spite Of my re
fusal to drink. He'd q great need Of
good cheer-that was evident. His
hand trembled as the ruby food
trickled into his glass. turned mo-
ment to give my order. When looked
again, his head had fallen on his hand
and Morcho was sleeping. The little
clock on the mantel tucked loudly, and
the long hand was on it's last quarter
climbing to IL. The canary that hung
in the window had covered his head
The moment was long with loneliness
A man came in, as l was waiting in
the silence, and stood moment look
ing down at Morcho.
Coin to die soon and he hasn't a
friend in the world-they've all left
him." he said. Icouldn't bear the sight
of him sleeping there beside me and sc
I touched his shoulder and said:
"Morcho, happy daysl"
"He started up and answered quick
ly, as the liquor touched his lips
Happy day!"
"How are you tonight" the maj
asked.
81 better; I get well purity quick,
said Morcho.
you'd better leave New York-it''
tough climate" said the other. "Just
go off somewhere an take rest"
eyes," echoed, you'd better 81
somewhere and take long rest"
81 no leave my business" he said, ant
took another sip. Then he laid his heat
upon his hands, and coughed until
thought he was near his end. Thu
waiter came to fan him. He got on hi
feet presently with an effort painful