The Montgomery advertiser., 1905-08-15
AN UNAVAILABLE PLOT.
BY LOUIS J. sTELLMAN.

tcopyrigkt 1905, by Daily Story Pub,
 ''Yes," the Man was saying. life is full of pathetic little incidents that crop out from the most unexpected sources. He was combating with considerable eloQuenct the Girls statement that It was sentimentless age. She did not believe this herself for she was young and pretty-but she was bored. for one thing, and she wanted to draw the man out.
 Every one has his secret tragedy with a real. human heart-throb in It.. the Man went on. 'The beggar, the washerwoman, the millionaire. the Failure in life-the stoic, the beast, the fanatic. Each one of them has at some moment in his life stood face to face with his soul. And no matter how long ago it has been, how many things have como between-some trivial incident, aower, a tune, a word, anything, will at times bring that memory to the surface and temporarily transf1sure him; s
 The Girl regarded him curiously. She was succeeding better than she had anticipated. Usually his mood was light--too light, she thought. to harmo- nixe with the shadow that sometimes crossed his face.
 '-Tell me about it," she said at a ven- ture. 'Is this new story?" The Man
 
 .polxed about in all sorts of odd corners for realistic material" Occasionally he outlined a plot for her, after some such prelude as this.
 Tt would make a good story" he unused. T hadn't thought of writing it. though. It's to-elusive; Just commonplace little thing-but, if I could put old Joe Henderson into it, just as he looked! If I could do that"
 "who is Old Joe Henderson," inter gupted the~Girl.
 He's the survivor of a past regime" replied the Man, gazing into the fire ab stractedly, "of a time when newspaper men were called Journalists and wore top hats. frock coats and the dignity of old-school professional men. when they fraternized with princes and statesmen and were honored through out the land The misplaced remnant of faded glory-that's what Old Joe Henderson Is. Absolutely inapplicable to modern conditions. He edits little trades paper at $40 a month. and poll ishes every word that goes into it. even the ads. His frock coat and top hat--he still wears them-are thread bare with age. but always carefully brushed. It Is pitiful toNsee him try to fit himself into an age that has out stripptd him. You see, Joe never had much enterprise. so the years have slip ped by and left him far behind. He still has youthful spirit He's not much over fifty and. until the other day. I've never heard him mention the past Never a whine about 'decadence' or the good old times Just futile. never ending hope that he will rise again"
 erly-"about his past. Tell me that"
 "Ah, yes, the story" said the Man, shaking of his revery and facing her. "As I said, it was quite an everyday affair. It was the way Joe told 1t; the look on his face, apd-all that" He turned to the fire again.
 You see. we were up at the club. CA lot of us got together, and we elected Joe an honorary member some time ago--because he couldn't afford to join you know.) We were taikingIaoout midnight it was-and I asked him out to have bite with me. We went to a quiet little place and had black coffee and things. Then we smoked, and something or other I said-about a girl l had left behind me when I came West stirred a responsive chord within him and he began to tell me of his early life, About woman-of course, there had to be a woman in it--a broken en- gagement and a westward flight; a checkered career; odd jobs here and there and everywhere; crqmbling pres tige, lack of ambition; a memory that would not down, and, finally, forgetful- ness and drifting with the stream of resignation. Many a man has told me the same thing before. There was no bitterness In Joe's Yecital-that was, perhaps, the only difference-nothing but a placid acceptance of the inevita- ble
 awhile in silence. After a time he threw down his cigar and looked at me It was the most peculiar look! I couldn't describe it-but I turned my face away.
 "'Hal.' he said. the other day I met q man from Philadelphia-my old camping ground, you know-and we