New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1903-08-03

corner, and the sarcastic grin the face of one
as he turned away; the flash of a thievish news
boy up an alley, with orange under his coat;
the progress of a girl and a young across
the street, oblivious of everything but them
selves. He heard everything-the clatter of the
pedlers toys, the rumble of the wagons. broken
fragments Of sentences from those around him.
the ring of hammers a building the drip
drip of water where a great pIateglass window
had been freshly washed. He smelled every
thing-the manufactured perfume of the bunch
Of gummy carnations thrust into his face the
fragrance Of orrisroot as woman hurried by
the odor of cooking from a basement
kitchen the exhalations of the roadway. Yet
keen as his senses were. he walked in a dream
all the time, unspeculative on all but the one
topic-what would these people think If they
knew what he was his way to do?
Suddenly in his reverie he was aware OF
team bearing down upon him at crossing, and
he leaped quickly to safety. policeman spoke
to him sternly, Mind where ye're gon', now
They'll be We yet"
Thank you. officer. l saw it in time though"
Strange, curious human heart. he unused! He
was going to his death. and yet instinctively he
had lodged the chance which would have made
his walk unnecessary.
Now he in the region Of the billboards
and great. gaudy advertisements screamed at
him in all colors and shapes. Among them. Of
course. were the quotations Of the Shakespeare
Brand. and. over and over MurdOch's face
watching him. 1t gave sign of fright or pity
was not that curious? What would Murdoch
be thinking by tomorrow? But his Autographs
matter what he thought would go on roaring
his wares through the satiated land and his
face would look happy ever-a good sort
of man to clash a stein with, Bradford had
pace was very slow, and he quickened it. walk
ing on through the mile of small, tawdry, dirty
shop fronts, each with the shopkeeper tilted
back on a wooden chair before the door
The shopkeepers would sit just so to-mor-
row. if il were a fine day without the
slightest knowledge or care that the tall
slight we'll dressed young man who had looked
at them so eagerly the day before would never
look at anything again Then he had got among
the mansions on the avenue; he met and spoke
gayly to few people he knew. reached Muir
doch's house let himself in quietly, and went up
to his room without seeing a soul
He sat down at once to his desk He had
three letters to write and he wrote them rapidly,
without hesitation. one directly after the other
one TO Charges. one to his mother. one to his
wife.
Il know that you have done what you could,
forehand that you would fail Still, I'm not
sorry 1 told you about 1t. for had to tell some
one That was because I am a weak man. You
being strong, cannot guess what weakness is.
There was time when 7 dsliked you because
you disliked me OF course. 1t makes no differ
ence TO me now what you think of me; and yet
oddly enough. I dislike you still. I may as we'll
be honest. since this is my only chance I re-
spect you highly, and thank you, but don't like
you. You'll wonder why at this particular min
ute stop to say l hardly know. or yes I
do; don't want to go to my death leaving lie
behind for you. Goodby, and thank you again"
1T is foolish to be writing you. mother since
I shall know in a very few minutes whether your
belief my Of belief is the truer to things
as they are. II you were right about your
heaven, and so on, my chances of seeing you are
not worth much: we shall belong to different
worlds, I'm afraid There are only two worlds.
though; the false and the true believe firmly
that I cutting loose from both. and ending
all my troubles. but perhaps 7 am only getting
into others. At least they can't be worse than
these. and you know I always liked change.
DO you remember the little prayer you made
for me once? 1t was pretty coldly answered.
wasn't it? 1 go the road my father went only I
haven't his consideration for my family. Pray
duh things mother. I made one. once,
and They. whoever They are-or it just
Luck answered 1t. I wanted to feel and be
myself. That was allowed me- But They are
ironical, after all They let be myself as far
suffering was concerned. and then They left
me false in other things Wasn't that like cat
with a mouse, though! Take your cat-Gods.
mother; forget your son; he and they are not for
each other. He will stick to his old theory Of
Luck
We'll. dear, this is pretty harsh. isn't TT I
ought surely to write more kindly things to
dead mother. But. you see, though have been
living lies all my life. don't care to die with
on my lips. I have got pretty far down, but
think I have found myself. down here. and
know what I am. now; there isn't any OF
further talking Is there? That was what Amy
said to me once. Do you know Amy? She has
been worth whichever forget that. mother I
never got to say goodby to you, do you rerne1n-
ber7 You were gone when I saw you. This is
my goodby Luck the cat-Gods whichever
IT is. we shall never see each other any more
So goodby. goodby. my mother"
You think me untrue. not to YOU. but TO my
self Believe me. Amy dear. 7 dying with
no lie on my lips when I say for the last time
I love you. I know that the kindly and cour-
teous thing would be to I'LL this letter with rot.