Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1907-01-30

NouQer lnat was ms. he DaQ never
been taken much notice of. His short
walk in life had been very near the
ground. where trifles look very large,
and from whence those larger STUN
bling blocks which occupy our attention
are quite invisible. He had been the
| third-the solitary third child who
usually makes his own interest in life,
and is left by or leaves the rest of his
family.
1t was not quite clear TO him why he
was the center of so much attention.
Ills mind did not run to the compre.
henson Of the fSct thar he was the
wearer of borrowed plumes--the sable
plumes of King Death.
He had always wanted to get OIL to
the Kitchen table. There was much
there that interested him and supplied
him with food for thought. He had
| rlsked his life on more than one coca.
| sion III attempts to scale that height
with the assistance of saucepan that
| turned over and poured culinary deli
| cacles Oh his toes. or perhaps Il sleeping
cat that got up and walked away much
annoyed. And now that he was ut last
at this dizzy height lie was sorry to find
that he was too tired to crawl about
and explore the vast possibilities of 1t.
| He was rather too tired to convey his
foreRnger to his mouth, and was forced
to work out mental problems without
that aid to thought.
| Presently his eyes fell on Guy Oscard's
face, and again his own small features
expanded into smile
| bad case.' he said, and, turning
over. he nestled down into the pillow,
and he had the answer TO the many
questions that puzzled his small brain.
AS through an opera runs the rhythm
of one dominant air, so through mems
lives there rings a dominant note, soft
In youth, strong In manhood and soft
again In old age. But it is always
there, and whether soft in the gentler
periods or strong amid the noise and
ciang of the perihelion, it dominates
always and gives Its tone to the whole
life.
The dominant tone of Sir John Mere
diths existence had been the high, clear
note of battle. He had always found
something OF some one to fight from
the very beginning, and now, in his old
age, he was fighting still. His had
never been the din and crash of war
fare by sword and cannon, but the
subtler, deeper combat of the pen. In
his active days he had got through a
| oSf t.,f ~, :,
work of the foreign Office which never
comes through the cheap newspapers to
the voracious nav of chattering pub.
lie. His name was better known on the
banks of the Neva. the Seine, the Bos.
porus. or the swift rolling lser, than by
the Thames, and grim Sir John was
content to have 1t 10.
His face had never been public prop.
erty; the comic papers had never used
his personality rs peg upon which to
hang their ever changing political prin-
ciples. But he had always been
there" as he himself vaguely put it..
That is to say, lie had always been Mt
the backbone of those invisible powers
Of the stage by whose command the
scene is shifted, the lights are lowered
for the tragedy or the gay music plays
on the buffoon. Sir John had no sym
pathy with Il generation OF men and
women who would rather be laughed
at and despised than umnoticed. He
belonged to an age wherein It was
held better to be gentleman than the
object of cheap and evanescent
notorlety, and he was at once the
despair and the dread of newspaper
interviewers. enterprislng publishers
and tuft hunters
He was 80 little known out of his
own select circle that the porters in
Euston station asked each other in vain
who the old swell waiting for the 4
o'clock up" from Liverpool could be.
The 4 O'Clock was, moreover, not the
first express which Sir John had met
that day. II Is stately carriage and
pair had pushed Its way into the crowd
of smaller and humber vehicular fry
earlier in the afternoon, aud on that
occasion also the old gentleman had
INDUCED in a grave promenade upon
the platform.
i He was walking up and down there
now, with his hand In the small of his
back, where OF late lie had been aware
Of constant aching pain. He was
very upright, however, and supremacy
unconscious Of the curiosity aroused by
his presence in the mind Of the station
camille" His lips were rather more
Troublesome than usual, and his keen
Eyes twinkied with Il suppressed eX-
element.
In former days there had been no
me equal 10 him in certain diplomatic
crises, where it was a question Of
browbeating suavely the uppish rep
resentative of some foreign state. No
man could then rival him in the inso.
lently arlstocratic school of diplomacy
which England has made her own.
But in his most dangerous crisis he had
never been restless, apprehensive, pes
simistic, as he was ut this moment.
And, after all, it was a very simple
matter that had brought LIN here 1t
was merely the question of meeting u
man as IL by accident, and then after.
ward making that man do certain
things required of him. Moreover. the
man was only Guy Discard, learned, IL
you will, in forest craft, but mere
child in the hands of SO old IL diploma
list us Sir John Meredith.
That which made Sir John so uneasy
was the abiding knowledge that jacks
wedding day would dawn In twelve
hours. The margin was much too
small, through, however, no fault of Sir
Johns. The west African steamer had
been delayed. unaccOuntably. two days.
A third day lost in the Atlantic would
have overthrown Sir John MeredIth's
plan. He had often cut things fine be-
fore, but somehow now-not that lie
was getting old, oh, no!-but somehow
the suspense was too much for his
nerves. He soon became irritated and
distrustful. Besides, the pain in his
back wearied him and interfered with
the clear sequence of his thOuphtS