Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-08-30

mother will not pine away if you will leave her alone for at least three hours day. And as to my being the prop | of your old age, your vigor of language assures me that you are strong enough to stand alone"
 | So Paul Beecot repaired to London and after the orthodox fashion began to cultivate the muses on little oat. meal by renting Bloomsbury garret. There he wrote reams on all subjects and in all styles and for six months as | siduously haunted publishers doors l with varying fortunes. Sometimes he came away with check, but more 1 often with bulky manuscript bulging bis pocket.
 l Shortly the great manager of the Universal theater enlisted Paul as an actor, and he assumed the double role of an uuappreciated author and sigh | ing lover. In the first capacity he had in his desk ten short stories, couple of novels, three dramas and sheaf of doubtful verses. These failed to ap- peal to editor. manager or publisher, and their author found himself re duced to his last five pound note. Then the foolish, ardent lad must needs fall in love. Who his divinity was, what she was and why she should be div inized can be gathered from conver- sation her worshiper held with an old schoolfellow.
 It was in Oxford street at o'clock on June afternoon that Paul met Grexon Hay. Turning the corner of the street leading to his Bloomsbury attic, the author was tapped on the shoulder by resplendent Bond street being-that is, the said being wore a perfectly fitting frock coat, silk hat, trousers with the regulation fold back and front, an orchid buttonhole, gray gloves, boots that glittered, and carried a gold topped cane The fact that Paul wheeled without wincing showed that he was not yet in debt.
 "Beecotv' said the newcomer, taking rapid stock of Paul's shabby serge suit and worn looks. T thought I was right"
 The voice if not the face awoke old memories.
 "Hay-Grexon Hayw cried the strug- gling genius. "Well, am glad to see you" And he shook hands with the frank grip of an honest man.
 And l you" Hay drew his friend up the side street and out of the human tide which deluged the pavement. But you seem"-
 Its a long story" interrupted Paul, flushing. Come to my castle and I'll tell you all about~it, old boy. You'll stay to supper. won't youi See here'- Paul displayed parcel-"a pound of sausages. You loved 'em at school, and I'm a superfine cook"
 Grexon Hay always used expression and word to hide his feelings. But with Paul-whom he had always con- sidered generous ass at Torrington school-a trifie of self betrayal didn't matter much. Beecot was too dense and, 1t may be added. too honest to turn any opportunity to advantage. "Its a most surprising thing" said Hay in his calm way, really most surprising thing, that a Torrington public schoolboy, my friend and the son of wealthy parents, should be buy ing sausages."
 "Come, now" said Paul, with great spirit and towing Hay homeward, T haven't asked you for money"
 If you do. you shall have 1t" said Hay, but the offer was not so gener- ous one as would appear. That was Hay all over. He always said what he did not mean and knew we'll that Beecots uneasy pride shied at loans, however small.
 Paul, the unsophisticated. took the shadow of generosity for It's substance, and his dark face lighted up. You're a brick, Hay" be declared, but don't want money. No"-this In reply to an eloquent glance from the well to do q have sufficient for my needs, and besides" with look at the resplendent dress of the fashieZ plate dandy, q don't glitter in the west end"
 "vhlch hints thst these who do are r.ch." said Grexon, with nn arctic smile. Wrong. Beecot. I'm poor. Only paupers can afford to dress well"
 Tn that case I must be million aire," laughed 3eecot. glancing down ward at his well worn garb. "But mount these staIrs. We have much to say to one another"
 'Much that is pleasant" said the courtly Grexon. . Paul shrugged his square shoulders snd stepped heavenward. "on your part hope" he sang back: certain ly not on mine. Come to Poverty cas- , tie" And the fashionable visitor found his host lighting the fire in an apart ment such as he had read about. but had never seen.
 aAs near heaven as I am likely tD Er1, rauIeu on Beecot, deftly fry. ing the sausages after placing his visit or on the sofa ''The grub will soon be ready. I'm a first class cook. bless you. old chap. HousemaId too. Clean. eh7- He waved his fork proudly round the III furnished room. "Td dis miss myself If 1t wasn't
 "But-but." stammered Hay. much amazed and surveying things through an eyegiass. what are you doing hereTr
 Trying to get ny foot on the first rung of fame's ladder
 But I don't quite see--
 Read BalzacTs life and You will.