Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1907-02-07
::::: BY B. L. FARJEON. So:
CHAPTER v.
Cnntinued


Continued.
They, egged on to fierce war OF
words by the disappointment he had in.
flicted upon them by not being dead
returned his abuse with interest, and
declared that a man who kept himself
shut in like that day and night ought
to be locked up and taken care of, for
It was clear he was incapable of TAX
ing care of himself. The policeman
gave his opinion.
II don't know so much about lock-
ing him up" he commenced, and was
Indignantly interrupted by Thomas
Dexter.
"Td advise yer not to try" cried that
Individual.
"And I'd advise you," retorted the
policeman, ''to keep your sarce to your
self. For respectable shopkeeper to
behave as you've behaved amt fair
to the neighborhood. That's ALL
"Well," said Thomas Dexter, feeling
very cold about his legs. "as that's
all, wish yer good-day."
And he slammed the door in their
faces, proceeding which did not re-.
store their amiability.
He did not generally trouble himself
about his neighbors or their opinions,
and he soon forgot the recent occur.
renee.
His delight at finding himself we'll
and in having SO quickly and safely
passed through dangerous illness
caused him to forget all minor details.
and it was with something like graft.
tude he lit a fire and dressed himself.
Then he went out. and being tremen-
dously hungry, ate a hearty meal at
a cookshop counter-a thing he had
not does for years.
Eating his meals at home was much
more economical.
Not much like dead un, Mr.. Dex-
ter" remarked the proprietor of the
cookshop, referring to his customers
powers of absorption.
"a long way from it." assented
Thomas Dexter. ut is a long time
since l felt so we'll. 1 will give you
bit of advice. When you feel little
queer in the head and things seem to
be all going round
Take liver pill" interposed the
proprietor Of the cookshop. That's
what you're going to say"
That's what I'm not going to say.
Take a good long sleep-never mind
If it lasts a week-and it'll make
man of you again. See what it's done
for me-"
YES" he mentally repeated to him
self, as he walked back to his shop,
''see what it's done for me-
What it had done for him outward
ly was apparent; but it had done some
thing for him inwardly which was not
visibly to the ordinary observer.
1t had set him thinking. The whole
of the afternoon and evening, although
he was ostensbly busy with the stock
in his shop, he did nothing in reality
but think of his dream and of what led
up to it.
And in this play of thought Little
Make + i.tve was the central figure.
He could not get her out of his mind.
Little Make-Believe with her paper
flag, marching at the head c. the
ragged regiment; Little Make-BeIlevc,
with the pie clasped to her breast
crouchng at his feet; Little Make-Be-
lieve in the midst of the birds with
their aprons on; Little Make-Believe
appearing here, there and in dozen
places at once, fading away only to ap-
pear again, haunted him, as it We're.
And such an impression did her i'm
palpable presentment make upon him
that at about $50 o'clock at night he
started up from his chair by the fire.
side with the intention of paying her
a visit.
For what purpose, and to what end,
he had not the slightest idea.
He remembered that the man who
had put the policeman off the scent
had said that Little Make-Believc lived
in Paradise buildings.
He knew the turning which led to
these tenements, but he had never had
the curiosity to take a peep at them.
So through the bitterly cold night he
made his way to the child's home, with
the picture of her imploring face before
him as he went.