The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1907-12-22

deliberately from head to foot. "Oh,
he murmured slowly. He said not a |
word more, but somehow, everybody
felt that Charles was demolished
| saw that Wrengold, when we went
in to dinner, hastily altered the cards
that marked their places. He had evil
IDENTIFY put Charles at first to sit next
| the poet: he varied that arrangement
now. setting Algernon Coleyard be-
| tween a railway king and magazine
editor. / have seldom seen my respect
ed brother-in-law so completely 81
fenced.
The poets conduct during dinner was
most peculiar. He kept quoting poetry
at inopportune moments.
Roast lamb or boiled turkey, sir?'
said the fOotman.
Mary had a little lamb" said the
poet Il shall initiate Mary
Charles and the senator thought the
remark undignified.
After dinner, however, under the
mellowing influence of some excellent
Roederer. Charles began to eXpandt
again. and grew lively and anecdotal.
The poet had made us all laugh not
| little with various capital stories of
| London literary sOciety-at least two
| of them, l think, new oneS-and
Charles was moved by generous emu
lation to contribute his own share to
| the amusement Oh lne company. he
was in excellent cue. He is not often
brilliant: but when he chooses he has
a certain dry vein of caustic humor
which is decidedly funny, though not
perhaps Strictly without being vulgar.
On this particular night then,
| warmed with the admirable WrengOld
| champagne-the best made in America
he launched out in a full and en-
| brOidered description of the various
| T. xTri1i I,,I Il,
| ceived him. 1 will not say that he mar
! rated them in full with the same
frankneSS and accuracy that | have
shown in these pages: he suppressed
not a few of the most amusing details
| on no other ground, apparently than
| because they happened to tell against
nlmSeI1-and he enlarged a good deal
on the surprising cleverness with which
| several times he had nearly secured his
man; but still, making all allowances
for native vanity in cOncealment and
additions he was distinctly funny-he
| represented the matter for once in its
ludicrous rather than in it's disastrous
aspect. He observed, also. looking
around the table, that after ali he had
lost less by Colonel Clay in four years
| of persecution than he often lost bv
one injudicious move in a single dav
on the London stock exchange: while
ne seemed to imply to the solid men
| of New York that he would cheerfully
sacrifice such a fleabite as that in re-
turn for the amusement and excite
ment of the chase which the colonel
had afforded him. The poet was
pleased.
You are a man of spirit Sir
Charles" he said. Il love to see this
fine old English admiration of pluck
and adventure! The fellow must really
have some good in him, after all. /
should like to take notes of a few of
| those stories they would supply nice
material for basing a romance upon"
I hardly know whether I'm exactly
the man to make the hero of a novel"
Charles murmured, with compIacence.
And he certainly didn't look it.
I was thinking rather of Colonel
Clay as the hero" the poet responded,
coldly.
All, that's the way with you men of
letters, Charles answered, growing
warm. You always have a sneaking
sympathy with the rascaIs."
That may be better" CoIeyard re-
torted in an icy voice, than sympathy
with the worst form of stock exchange
! speculation"
The company smiled uneasily. The
railroad king. wTiggled. Wrengold tried
to change the subject hastily, but
Charles would not be put down
|
said. That's not quite the worst. The
meanest thing about the man is that
he's also hypocrite. He wrote me such
a letter al the end Of his last trick
here, positively here, in America" And
| he proceeded to give his own version of
the QuackenbOss incident. enlivened
with sundry imaginative bursts of pure
Vandrift fancy.
When Charles spoke of Mrs Ouaclr
enbnss the poet smiled.
The worst of married women" he
said. iS-that you can't marry them:
the worst of unmarried women is-that
they want TO marry you"
But when it came to the letter the
poets eye was upon my brOther-in-law.
Charles, I must fain admit, garbled
the document sadly. Still, even So.
its sentences. But Charles ended all
by saying:
50, TO crown his misdemeanOrs, the |
rascal shows himself a whining cur
and disgusting Pharisee."
Don't you think" the poet inter-
posed in his cultivated drawI he may
have really meant IT.? Why should not |
some grain of compunctiOn have stir |
red his soul still? Some remnant OF |
conscience made him shrink from be-
tray1ng man who confided in him |
have an idea myself that even the |
worst of rogues have always some good |
IN them. l notice they often succeed |
to the end in retaining the affection !
and fidelity of women"
oh, l said so,'' Charles sneered. 81
told you you literary men have always |
an underhand regard for a scoundrel." |
Perhaps So" the poet answered, "for |
we are all of us human Let him that |
Is without sin among us cast the first |
stone" And then he relapsed into |
moody silence.
We arose from the table. Cigars went |
round. We adjourned to the smoking
room. 1t was a Moorish marvel, with |
oriental hangings. There Senator |
Wrehgold and Charles exchanged rem |
lnlScences of bonanzas and ranches and |
oIher exciting postprandiaI topics /
Wnlle the magazine editor cut in now |
ana again with pertinent inquiry or /
quaint and sarcastic parallel in |
stance. 1t was clear he had an eve /
to future copy. Only Algernon Cole
yard sat brooding and silent. with his
chin on one hand and his brow intent |
musing and gazing at the en5berS in
the fireplace. The hand, by the wav.
was remarkable for curious. antique |
looking ring, apparently of Egyptian or
EtruScan workmanship, with a project
ing gem of several large facets. Once
only, in the midst of a game of whist.
he broke out with a single comment
sfT1WEinG r11ado - |