The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1903-04-03

Of the Man.
The Girl looked up at the attic door
I'm absolute dismay She was pretty,
decidedly pretty, and young and sly
lishly dressed. She lived over the
way in two charming rooms, where
pretty girls like herself and nice boys
were glad to take tea She had heaps
Of friends, and studied at the college.
Why she, the daughter Of an Ameri-
can citizen, should aspire to medical
honors In Aud Reekie was by no
means clear "Poppa" busy in Balti'
more making dollars pulled his chin
whisker, and guessed there were d.
ploma factories enough their side the
streak" But 'PoppaN eventually had
to give way, as every one alike had TO
where Maisie was concerned. 50 a
self-possessed damsel Of p summers
and three brass bound trunks, marked
with the Stars and Stripes, arrived in
L. Walk
And He-the man who knew every
thing, and was professor at the
college-lived here
She hesitated moment, doubtful Of
the propriety of intrusion He was
great man, and a professor Of inte-
grail philosophy, which is very alb
struse subject to take degree, stu
more so to teach.
The Man knew everything
how to compel buttons to remain on
shirts, and to keep mice from his pro
visions, to tidy up his rooms, and the
principles of household economy, gen
eral comfort and such like trifes,
which were not included in the currl-
culum of any college he had ever
heard of, being even outside the limit
of integral philosophy, and, as affairs
that chiefly concerned women, OF no
matter.
Then she went boldly up to the door
and knocked.
The Man was sitting at a large Ia
BILE covered with papers, his trousers
turned up and his feet immersed In
a pan of once tepid water.
Oblivious to everything outside his
own thought he sat and wrote.
He was engaged on a great work,
to be published in two volumes at
the scientific booksellers'-and also in
adding many lines and burrows on his
face.
Life was short, but the power of man
is great. In his short travail he had
held the lamp of truth to many hid
den mysteries. What secret should
escape him? What line of demarca-
ton stay his search? Meanwhile
there was one thing only-to work.
That was why his eyes peered dim.
1y over his dull, dark folios, and his
feet splashed in the cold water he
had forgotten to take them out.
His pen shook little as the grabbed
characters formed themselves on the
sheets of his manuscript. Doggedly
he wrote on, exultant, determined
while some one knocked, unheeding.
"The Principal Vitae" He under
scored the headline, and began fresh
paragraph, as some one entered-"Tht
Principle of Life is-a pretty girl"
That Is not what the professor
meant to write in his great treatise
nor is it what he would have aclnowl
edged or realized at any ordinary mo
ment. / do not pretend to know the
psychological reason that explains tn'
phenomenon. 1t may have been tn
retina of his eye received an impress
IL SoI, f1AY
the current of his thought, and auto
madcally his hand transcribed. ANY
how, it was there, in black and white
and anyhow, she was there also, clat
in dainty muslin.
He looked dreamily at the bright fig
ure from over his clouded glasses. Hi
tired gaze rested on the blue of he
ewes. the gold Of her hair the re-
of her mouth and the freshness Of he
bright young face, as on a beautiful
picture destined only to fade. The
he sighed, YEARLY.
Even then, however, his mind, ben
on the great work, was not who'll
equal to the situation. He addresse
her laconically as he would hav
done the charwoman who tende
him.
Well" he grumped
The pretty Girl looked at him fC
a moment. A half stiaed laugh at hi
surliness rose to her lips. Then ia
amused merriment died out frol
her eyes, and they renewed their loo
of sympathy.
\ you are the professor?"
WELL"
\"And an the girl over the way