The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1904-07-08
THE WAYT,0.A
MANS HEART
~ JOSEPH BURNETT

- JOSEPH BURNETT
%3. (oopyiisht, lsaA. by Daily Story Pub. oe.l
SrIERBERT MILFORD was thorough
MI ~ dissatisfied with himself and
81 with his lot in life. He had awakened
4 to the fact that riches do not neces-
sarily bring happiness.
He had challenged fortune in the
arena of life and had won the joust.
He was q very rich and very power
full man.
He had gone at 1t early and worked
unremittingly. He had been fortunate,
% we'll as faithful, and found himself
the possessor of great riches before he
had reached 40.
When he found his fortune secure he
had turned to the enjoyment of IT..
''Now," he said, Il will indulge
the dreams I have dreamed during ell
these years of grind" But the flowers
of fancy had turned to ashes at his
touch. The desires of his youth proved
to be q mirage when put to the lips.
Society bored him, the pleasure resorts
drove him distracted; travel tired him,
and Europe nearly landed him In q
madhouse. The moment he left the
fascinating game of business he be-
came lonesome, homesick and discon-
tented. Once back at his desk his en-
thusiasm returned, he felt at home,
satisfied, confident and ardent to pur-
sue the game.
OF course he enjoyed the freedom
and the creature comforts his grea.
wealth gave him, and he lavished mon
ey on his personal expenses without
stint. But he was compelled to admit
that his life was circumscribed by the
limits of the business world, and that
no pleasures, no society, no higher or
other ambitions or activities could be
his. He yearned for a home, yet
shrank from the thought of matri-
mony. He yearned for leisure and re-
pose, but was unhappy away from the
ticker. He dreamed Of reveling in art
and literature, but realized that they
were for no half-hearted sutton, and
knew that he was tied to his idols.
The home yearning was the strong
est of all, and he bent to it to the ex-
tent of securing an establishment with
a retinue of servants. Here he gen.
orally slept, and sometimes ate-in
lonely grandeur and from menu pre-
pared by $500 chef whose autocracy
was approached only by his stupidity.
But more often he dined at the clubs
or the exclusive restaurants, where, at
least, he did not feel apologize to those
who served him. His living cost him
a great sum, but ever and anon, as he
awaited some particularly expensive
course, or left the table, drowning his
disappointed appetite in the aroma of
. Havana cigar, there would flash be-
fore his mental vision the old dinner
table at home-on the rock-strewn
farm. He could fairly smell the steam
ing dishes on the red tablecloth, and
it sometimes seemed that he could
reach the great platters of fried chick
en- and the fragrant dishes of vegeta-
bles and the great plates of home
made bread.
OF all these things had Milford been
thinking one afternoon, after futile
attempt at lunch at the club, as he
wandered perfunctorily through
great apartment building of the cheap
er class on which he was about to
make a considerable loan. For once the
business in hand seemed of secondary
Importance and he lounged idly
through the labyrinth of halls and cor
ridors unseeing and unaware, his soul
full of bitterness and his body full of
WEAKNESS. OF what avail his successes,
his money, his power, when it could
not buy for him that which he craved
his lost youth and freshness and Joy?
He leaned against the wall heavily,
oppressed by the gloom of his thoughts.
Presently he was aroused by pungent
odor which permeated through his
thoughts and his bitterness and as
sailed his Inconsistencies odor
which galvanized into very life the
memories with which he was strug-
Cling. Yes, surely it was-no, it could
tainly it was the odor of fresh-baking
bread-none Of your bakery smells,
but the real aroma Of homemade
bread. He glanced at the transom
through which the tempting odor came.
At this instant stalwart young fel-
low came charging around the corner
and, without as much as looking at
milford, slammed open the door be-
meath the fragrant transom.
What followed Milford heard invol-
UNFAIRLY.
Hang it, Mabel; no luck!" said a
masculine voice. mot q red cent IN
til they hear from old Jasper. Con-
found the luck! There goes the straw
berry shortcake, after all our plan
ming" =.
''Never mind" replied a feminine
voice. soothingly. "I've got the crust
~ mt n F0Tr9N