The Kinsley graphic. [volume] (Kinsley, Kan.) 1890-1940, 1903-09-11

Ddck Oh al was d HucuCSS tud1 IhoSO
who came into anything like init
mate contact with him could but no
tice. The lack of a mothers love
and guidance, and mistaken gener-
osity and a subsequent obtuse in
sistence on the part of his father,
accounted for much in the wreck
he had made of everything to which
he had put his hand. Born with
a keen artistic sense, endowed with
considerable real literary talent, his
likings had always been made light
of at home, and when it came to the
choice OF career he had that forced
upon him for which he had positive
distaste.
Then his father died; a consider
able amount of money fell to him;
false friends fattered and cajoled;
and very soon he was penniless. his
elder brother helped him to a posi-
ton, but though he did his best, his
apparent Indifference brought about
his dismissal. His sisters husband
now tried to give him lift, but the
recipient soon discovered that he
was hindrance rather than an aid,
and SO one night, returning from his
work discouraged and embittered,
and being reproached by his sister
for his general uselessness, he went
to ais room, put few traps to-
seSher, slung them upon stout cane
over his shoulder, and walked out
into the darkness, from that hour a
vagabond, wandering whittier fancy
led, now working at this or that, now
begging, suffering sometimes, but not
without a certain enjoyment in life,
vastly happier than he had been
when he felt himself dependent on,
and a reproach to, those who were
his nearest of kin. Such was the
story of this ne'er-do-well, a story
of weakness, of folly, of needless
ness, but not one of crime or of dis
honor.
Having settled himself to his salts
faction under the lofty elm, Ros-
sitter opened the bundle he had cast
by his side-a dilapidated change of
underwear, a pair of socks, vest
and an outing shirt-and extracted
a briar-wood pipe of cheap make
and a small piece of smoking-plug.
From the tobacco he cut with miser-
ly care enough to fill half the pipe
bowl, and having lighted it leaned
back with sigh of comfort. 1t was
the first indulgence of the kind he
had allowed himself for several days,
and the fact that he was permitting
himself to enjoy so epicurean pleas
ure at this morning hour indicated
that something of unusual moment
was occupying his mind.
After having blown, to his intense
satisfaction, two or three fragrant
clouds into the warm September air,
he took from his pocket a square
envelope, from which he drew let
ter. This he spread out before him
upon one knee. 1t read in this wise:
Dear Philip: have heard from your
former friend, Everson, that you have
again been seen in or near Kalamanti,
and I am sending this enclosed in q
note to him in the hope of reaching you.
For the sake of our dead father and
mother, for your sake, and for the sake
of us all, I want you to come back for
another trial. VIII you not? On the 1st
of October the Evening Star passes into
the hands of an acquaintance Of mine,
George Agnew, who intends making
some sweeping changes in the staff.
Recalling some sketches and skits you
once wrote which received much pleas
ant comment, and the leanings you
formerly had towards literature, which
father (very unfortunately and injudi-
ciously, I now believe) so insistently dis
couraged, spoke of you to Mr.. Agnew
who has very generously offered to give
you chance on the paper. October 1.
| as 1 said above, is the date when the
change in management takes place, and
If, by good fortune, you receive this let
ter, I beg that you will not allow this
| (perhaps lasO opportunity to retrieve
yourself to slip from you. I hope that
you will believe me still your affection
| ate brother.
ARCHIBALD ROSSITER.
Its mighty good of Archie" COM
mented the wanderer, ga blamed
sight too good! I don't deserve it..
as 1 have of everything else but
this" and he glanced down at his
worn and dusty shoes, and at his
| faded and weather-stained garb.
"And yet-well, it's what I always
used to think I'd like, and here 1 am
more than half way there"
When his brothers missive had
been handed to him two weeks pre-
vious he had been upon the point of
turning south. Instead he set his
| face eastward, not with a definite
idea of falling in with what his
brother had proposed, but with that
possibility in view. Now. after hav-
ing had the past so wildly brought
| before him by his unforeseen tarry
in Illica, after having experienced
emotions that he had fancied be-
longed almost totally to a different
environment, he was more strongly
moved than ever thus to challenge
| fate.
But the old weakness, the hest
fancy, the dislike of responsibility,
fostered by his rowing life was not
| lightly to be overcome; so he lay
| and debated. Against his undoubted