New-York tribune., 1903-04-06
Zeckel.
By KATHLEEN o'CoNxoR

,s] well l-IE Mr. Al, ,Ailday. ANYBODY I'D think you'd
bein' comfortably settled in as smart little shop
as ever ciapped eyes on. and free Of expense
Ezekiel Halliday groaned as his eyes wandered
bent his white head to hide gies, tear that was
slowly coursing down his cheek Martha .
And 'ow any one could fret themselves silly
tnat dirty old booksellers beycI.d II
ought to ave been done away with years ago. a.
any clean ana sensible person could see! Why.
never day passed bu; l bumped my poor cad
against them pesky doorways: and as for that
mnne- gar5ee De ma I'D me sh9p. & WASH larger than
g. Ne an my old girl found it comfortable enough
e59ke out az length stung by the eontept IN The
prevent living to a good old age I'm ninety
three now. and she only died two years ago come
old place Was twas it there when you
Passed this morning Martha he asked pteously.
his stick Martha tossed her head "a She laid the
TT were standing there right enough them she
replied carelessly. but they were at work on the
Next to it. Martha. next to it7.
feet stretchins out hand for % his hat that e buns ms
on peg But Martha guessed his intention
you don't leave this parlor till you've 'ad
fresh cup o tea The men 'un be Ieavin' of work
now and If the old place is gone you won't bring IL
back by goin' off without a sup bite"
Zeckel fell back into his armchair with working
-, Its .., true he qoa1ed Nothing can bring the
and you don't see things like We do"
Martha was on the shady side Of forty. so she
was not i'll pleased at the soft impeachment
Well she returned slightly Modified. Il sup
pose We don't All I know is that Fd--that I'd
thank Providence my bended knees IL IL nc give
me shop IN the Charing Cross Road But there's
the bell The tea 'ull be ready by the time you
come back"
ZeckeI rose and attended 70 his customer with
the accIS Orned care ana genial bonhOmie which
had made him quite a personality in Booksellers
Row, Left alone the smile died out OF his eyes.
counter Yes. It was fine enough he reflected.
this shop. with its unOeum covered floor and
shining brown shelves, its shrin electric bell and
other modern conveniences: there nothing
Inissing-noJhing but those subtle associations
which alone created the real atmosphere OF home.
He took up a broken backed volume lying at his
elbow, and fingered its yellow pages lovingly. Il
a rare edition of Pilgrims Progress" much
coveted by certain celebrated novelist, who had
imagined that the old man could not possibly IN
derstand its value
chuckIed at the idea. There wasn't a man in
London that could hoodwink him into buying
imitation OF the real article, Many a time Mr..
Charles Dickens had tried TO play trick on him.
and had declared him TO be "a willy old beggar-"
Marthas impatient voice behind the glass door re-
Come along now" she exclaimed Drink your
tea, and eat this nice piece of buttered toast I've
all the crusts off,
The rough kindness of her tone. she settled
the cushion in his chair. cOmfOrted the old man
somewhat, and he obeyed her meekly.
You're very good to me, Martha" ne said. sud
denly
Nonsense. 'Aven't I known We for the last
twenty years. and didn't I lay out the poor old
mfssus avowin all the time in cart TO see you
comfortable every eveuin. 'usband or no 'usband J.
And now" she added. with quick change OF