River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1904-08-04
The Story Of
a Wise Fool
BY H 0 NJ < r F I S X
(Copyrieht, 1904, by Daily story Pub. co.,


n OHEMIA was in full session at Maj
d f1olps. Everybody knows, of course,
where Mafioli's is-Maffioli's, right
around the corner in the little alley,
where all the middle sort of actors and
artists and musicians and that sort, go
at unholy hours to restore tired nerves
and fill empty stomachs, with the
sparkling wit and the good viands set
f0rth-the latter by Maffioli at most
scandalously reasonable price.
Well, this was well past the hour OF
midnight and the choice spirits present
were just beginning to cut loose and
enjoy themselves. Three tables had
been dragged into the middle of the
room and placed end to end. About
this improvised banquet board were
seated score or more of the devotees
of innermost Bohemia. The feast was
over and the mugs Of beer and clouds
of cigarette smoke told that the "ses-
sion" was on. Never were better stories
told, never were songs better sung,
never did laughter ring merrier.
There was but one solemn counte-
nance at the board-and it was veri-
table deaths head at the feast 1t was
Benton, Russell Benton, who did juve-
niles so cleverly at the Bijou. And usu-
ally he was the gayest and most fun
loving of all Bohemia. Now he sat In
his chair moody and sullen, drinking
his beer savagely and responding not
at all to the sallies of wit. Even the
raillery of Tony Neiman, the original
and slangy sporting editor of the Uni
verse, whose brains, it was generally
conceded, accorded with his 300 pounds
and the dry wit of Archy Neville, the
tall, thin, bearded artist, failed to
arouse him. Finally Mamie de We're,
the dashing little soubrette from the
Academy, took the matter in hand.
Perching on a chair and swinging her
beer mug in her hand, she screamed:
Look at Russ sitting there like a
professional mourner at funeral. |
move, most potent, grave and reverend
seignOrs, that he tell good story, sing
a good song or be fined the drinks"
Hear, hear" shouted the company.
Benton looked up and smiled grimly.
ooh, go on" he growled. cts all a
fake anyhow Booze and laugh and
laugh and booze and then sleep it off
and do it all over again tomorrow.
I'm sick of the game There's nothing
in it"
why don't you quit it?" shouted
little Veleni, the leader of the orches-
ira at the Grand, in his high treble.
"By heavens, l wish 1 could" re-
turned Benton savagely. "I'll tell all
you Holsters something. 1 wish l was
back in the country, ramming about at
the business end of a plow, dodgin'
stumps and rocks-and that's no joke,
either Here we are-all of us think
in we're the wisest people on earth,
maxim fools of ourselves before a lot
of idiots for so much per and spending
what we get giving ourselves paresis
in this old tenth-rate joint. And when
the seasons over we haven't enough
coin to get through the summer in a
fourth floor hall bedroom, without
hawking next seasons salary. Quit it!
I'd quit it so quick it'd make your head
swim if l hadn't cut my bridges behind
me-"
While he spoke girl had entered
the place, glanced about in a half
frightened manner and shrank into an
obscure seat at a corner table. She was
fresh-faced and her attire bespoke the
country. She seemed utterly out of
place in Maffioli's. At the sound of
Benton's voice she glanced toward him
quickly. and a startled look came into
her eyes. The party in the middle of
the room were so engrossed in Benton's
strange words that they did not notice
her at all.
''Oh, cut it," cried the de We're from
her perch on the chair. mo preaching
at Maffioli's, hey boys? A song, a story
or drink and do it now 3"
wait a minute" spoke up George
Preston Brooks, the long-haired poet
in frayed trousers and the new and as
founding Prince Albert, "Forsoeth l
have an idea. Russ evidently has a
pastoral tale on his mind or conscience.
| move he tell it. A little touch of the
serious won't harm us at ALL"
Good, good!" cried the crowd.
'By heavens, WILL" said Benton,
pushing the beer mug from him and
rising.
The girl in the corner had ordered
coffee and a sandwich, which she left
untouched, being absorbed apparently
in the scene before her.
There was, once upon a time, a
thick-headed young fool who lived up
in the country" began Benton grimly.
His father had a good farm and the
young fool grew up where there was
air to breath and good stuff to eat and
a soft bed to sleep on. He worked out
in the open, ate like hired man, slept
like a baby and got up in the morning
with a clear head and feeling like a
fighting cock Over yonder on the next
farm but two, was a buXom, brown
eyed lass with cheeks like peaches and
lips as red as roses. She MIXED the
cows and churned the butter and
washed the dishes and laughed and
sang all day long. The fool used to go
over to the other farm evenings to
see the girl, and after awhile he took
her to singing school or to meetin'
Once he took her to the county fair
He got to sayin' foolish things to her
and she used to blush and look at the
ground. Once he kissed her. That
night after he went home he swore &c
himself he would marry her. You see
he didn't l<pou fbn1 ha+ bo fooI