Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-11-01

ly mos nlmSolI WllQ tlUU ID nlb pVcAet the result Is sometimes curious. He finds with a vague sense of surprise that he has forgotten how to spend. { That extravagance. like other artificial passions, requires cultivation.
 This he realized even more fully on the days that followed the night of his i first return, and with 1t was born new bitterness. The man who has friends and no money may find lie difficult, but the man who has money and no friend to rejoice in his fortune or benefit by his generosity is aloof Indeed. With the leaven of incredulity that works in all strong natures, Loder distrusted the professional beggar; l therefore the charity that bestows cas- fly and promiscuously was denied him, and of other channels of generosity he was too self contained to have learned 1 the secret
 When depression falls upon man of usually even temperament 1t de- scends with a double weight The mercurial nature has hundred coun- terbalancing devices to rid itself Of gloom-a sudden lifting of spirit, a memory of other moods lived through, l other blacknesses dispersed by time, but the man of level nature has none of these. Depression when 1t comes is indeed depression; no phase of mind 1 to be superseded by another phase, but a slackening of all tho chords of lie. It was through such depression as this that he labored during three weeks, while no summons and no hint of remembrance came from Chilcote. His position was peculiarly difficult. i He found no action in the present, and toward the future he dared not trust ] himself to look. He had slipped the old moorings that familiarity had ren- dered endurable, but, having slipped 1 them, he had found no substitute. Such was his case on the last night of the three weeks and such his frame of mind as he crossed Fleet street from Cnford's inn to Middle Temple lane. I It was scarcely [ o'clock, but ai- ready the dusk was falling. The great CT press of vehicles had ceased, and the light of the street lamps gleamed back from the spaces of dry and polish ed roadway, worn smooth as mirror 1 by wheels and hoofs. Something of the l sollture of night that sits so i'll on the strenuous city street wns making itself felt. though the throngs of people on the pathway still streamed eastward and westward, and the tnverns made a busy trade.
 Having crossed the roadway. Loder paused for a moment to survey the scene. But humanity in the abstract made small appeal to him, and his glance wandered from the passersby to the buildings massed like clouds against the dark sky. As his gaze mov- ed slowly from one to the other a clock near at hand struck ., and an h. stant later the chorus was taken up by dozen clamorous tongues. Usually be scarcely heard and never needed
 these innumerable chimes. but this evening their effect was strange. Com.
 ing out of the darkness, they seemed
 to possess a personal note, human
 declaration. The impression was fan
 tastic, but 1t was strong. With 2
 species of revolt against life and his
 own personality, he turned slowly and
 moved forward in the direction of Lud'
 gate hill.
 For a space he continued his course
 then, reaching Bouverle street, he turn.
 ed sharply to the right and made hii
 way down the slight incline that leadl to the embankment. There he paused
 and drew long breath. The sense of
 space and darkness soothed him. Pull
 Ing his cap over his eyes, he crossed to
 the river and walked on in the direc
 ton of westmipster bridge.
 As he walked the great mass of watel
 by his side looked dense and smooth al
 oil with Its sweeping width and nstworh
 of reflected light On Its farther bani
 rose the tall buildings. the chimneys
 the daring lights that suggest another
 and an alien London. Close at hand
 stretched the solid stone parapet, giv ling assurance of protection.
 All these things he saw with his men tai eyes, but with hls mental eyes only for his physical gaze was fixed aheat
 where the houses of parliament loomet out of the dusk. From the great build |, ings his eyes never wavered until th |, embankment was traversed and West |, minister bridge reached. Then he paus
 ed, resting his arms on the coping Q : the bridge.
 In the tense quietude of the darkness s the place looked vast and inspiring ' The shadowy terrace, the silent rivel , the rows of lighted windows. each wa , significant. Slowly and comprehensive : ly his glance passed from one to th f other. He was no sentimentalist an I no dreamer. His act was simply th 2 act of a man whose interests. robbe > of their natural outlet. turn instinctiv'
 iy toward the forms and symbols r the work that is denied them. III ! scrutiny was steady-even cold. H Q was raised to no exaltation by th
 yastness of the building, nor was ! f chilled by any dwarfng of himself. H 4 looked at it long and thoughtfulll f then. again moving slowly. he turne e and retraced his steps.
 4 Ills mind was full as he walked bacl fl 1 still ob.iv!ous of the stone parapet a the embankment. the bare trees an l, the naring lights of the advertisement . across the water. Turning to the lef