Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1903-06-04
The Shadow
OF HdppineSS
BY IRVING BAOHELLER.
THAT little inn was somewhere Of

II
the road from New Amsterdam
to New York-a halfway house be-
tween now and antiquity. A part
was old and part new, and il was
all very shabby and simple and genu-
inc. Its day began at dusk and its
noon was midnight. Then the red
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 il was inhabited
chiefly by the nightfolk. A tall man
could almost touch its caves and had
to pay a toll Of reverence at its door
IL he entered Once in, he forgot all
care save that of stepping lightly
lest il fan upon him. The Boost had
grown, wing by wing, until i covered
half the short block, and now under
its roof were unexpected cayerns far
back of the red door at the sidewalk.
A big church fianked the little inn
and buried il under fathoms of gloom
as the sun came up. When it was
nearing noon, Of a bright day, great
lever Of sunlight thrust itself in
i where the two buildings came close
together behind Morcho's, and lifted
on the bulk Of shadow until it was
gone.
Morcho himself was a man worth
| knowing. He was an item of eX-
pense in the moral economy of the
I world. but the lesson of his life, II
one were able to make il clear, would
\ have some profit in it. He was a
I brown little Spaniard who knew how
I TO cook and loved eating and drink
| ing aud good eompanionship. One
never sat under the barren beams Of
| The Roost and felt his blood warming
/ and the gloom going out of his soul
I IN the smile Of Morcho. without some
I thankfulness for the like Of him. But
that was a pleasure, with all its ae-
eessor,es. fun Of peril. There was in
IL too much of the spice OF life ana
the cuisine. II 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 conelu-
sion Of every tale he told and, /
make no doubt, of every dream he
dreamed. lie 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
D a. d .sssaHnNH mt have
been Morcho and some who came
there would have sought a host more
TO their liking. 1t was as II he said;
as your heart heavy, my friendF 1
have a merry little monkey of 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 ana
had never heard any preaching about
temperance. and thinking was out OF
his line. | knew he had a heart OF
lead some days, but even then the
clad hand, the toast of Happy day,
the merry tale. were not withheld.
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. ! could see
that the man was dying, but the inn
was already dead. a lonely guest sal
near me and Morcho was trying hare
20 keep his feet and tell a story. h'
| sank into chair at the end Of II ane
soon fell nodding. The coy roomi
were empty. The tables were neatly
| spread but where were the merry
| feasters. the song and laughter thai
| rang TO the roof in other days!
| sNIarcho.r said the man who sat b.
him. lifting his glass, where are I'M
happy days?' ,.-,
aNadre de dos" he whispered
.Here's happy day." and then NJ
| took a sip out Of glass that ha'
been waiting for him.
| you're sick, Moreho. said IN,
man. drinking. You'd better go OF
somewhere and take rest Ihei
he rose and paid the waiter and wen
away.
| Moreho had not seemed to hear hin
and shortly came over TO me, rubbing
his hands. he was bracing himsel
| for the task before him and ~
| smile came hard. was an old Gus
| toner and he must do his best {
please me. - Ia,
a Il not sick-no-o-o-o! ne WIN
+" pered. Il be well purity quick
He would have the waiter orlni