The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1906-08-09
Cant you talk to him, and tell him


better?'
81 could. l know it all by heart
all the things to say to man on the
downward path. Heaven knows I've
heard them often enough, but I'd feel
ashamed to talk that way to Uncle
Peter. If he were my son, now, I'd
cut off his allowance and send him
back to make something of himself,
like Sile Higbee with little Hennery;
but I'm afraid all can do is to watch
him and see that he doesn't marry one
of those little pink-silk chorus girls,
or lick policeman or anything"
you're carryin' on the same way
yourself" ventured his mother.
"That's different" replied her per-
spicacious son.
Uncle Peter had refused to live at
the Hightower after three days in that
splendid and populous caravansary.
1T suits me we'll enough" he ex-
planned to Percival, "but have to look
after Billy Brue, and this amt any
place for Billy. You see Billy amt
city broke yet. Look at him now over
there, the way he goes around butting
into strangers. He does that way be-
at his new patent leather shoes-first
pair he ever had. He'll be plumb
stoop-shOuldered if he don't hurry up
and get the new kicked off of 'em. I'll
have to get him nice warm box-stall
in some place that amt so much on
the band-wagon as this one. The CELL
ings here are too high fur Billy. And
I found him shootin' craps with the
bell boy this mornin'. The boy thinks
Billy, bein' from the west, is stage
robber, or somethin' like he reads
about in the Cap Collier libr'ries, and
follows him around every chance he
gets. And Billy laps up too many of
them little striped drinks; and them
French-cooked dishes amt so good fur
him, either. He caught on to the bill
of fare right away. Now he won't or
der anything but them allas-them
dishes that has "a la something or
other after EN-" he explained, when
Percival looked puzzled. 'He knows
they'll always be something all fused
up with red, white and blue gravy, and
little paper bouquet stuck into 'em.
I never knew Billy was such a fancy
eater BEFORE
So Uncle Peter and his charge had
established themselves in an old-fash-
Toned but very comfortable hotel down
on one of the squares, dingy mOnu-
ment to the time when life had been
less hurried. Uncle Peter had stayed
there 80 years before, and he found the
place unchanged. The carpets and
hangings were bit faded, but the
rooms were generously broad, the
chairs, as the old man remarked, were
made to sit in" and the cuisine was
held, by few knowing old epicures
who still frequented the place, to be
superior even to that of the more pre-
tentious Hightower. The service, it is
true, was apt to be slow. Strangers
who Glanced in to order a meal not
infrequently became enraged, and left
before their food came, trailing plain
short words of extreme dissatisfaction
behind them as they went. But the
elect knew that these delays betokened
the presence of an artistic conscience
in the kitchen, and that the food was
worth tarrying for. "They know how
to make you come back hungry for
some more the next day." said Uncle
Peter Bines.
From this headquarters the old man
went forth to join in the diversions of
his grandson. And here he kept a
watchful eye upon the uncertain Billy
Brue; at least approximately. Be-
tween them, his days and nights were