Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-03-01
DO you mind my leaving them here for
a litt1e?" he said.
The man looked at him suspiciously.
M rather didn't -

DO YOU mind my leaving them here for
a little?" he said
The man looked a him suspiciously
I'D rather you didn't
Anthony picked up the despised gar
ments and hurried out of the place. AS
he expected. there was a loud laugh at
his expense from the aproned and tousled
females outside. Even now. more than
twelve hours later, he could not recall the
incident without turning hot and cold
all over.
He walked out into the quiet little
Pimlico street. Luckily the rain had
ceased and the sun had come out He
walked briskly for the first half mile. The
early morning hour holds a promise all
its own. a hopefulness dependent on
nothing tangible. His last meal had been
afternoon tea at the house of friend
the day before. and that had followed
lunch of champagne and biscuits taken
at counter and paid for by an acquaint-
ance to whom Anthony would not for the
world have confessed that he was in sore
need Of a good meal.
Biscuits had for him a humorous asso-
citation. for once. when calling on man.
ager at his private house. he >had been
left alone in the dining room. and had at
tempted to make good days starvation
with the contents Of a biscuit box which
stood On the sideboard. The great man
had entered and discovered him in the
act. Anthony was for moment nom
pluSsed. He stood with faint smile on
his face. gazing at the manager. who
was looking at him sternly, just as if lie
had not in the springtide of his profess
sional career been many "A time hungry
and brOken-hearted.
Il never could resist macaroons said
Anthony, politely, and bowed himself
out.
The manager being only stage com
pdian failed to see the humor and al
lowed him to depart.
AS Anthony neared the buster parts his
pace slaciened. He began to look about
him and TO take that interest i'm other
peoples business peculiar TO those who
have none of their own. The average
paSSer-by would hardly have credited him
with being the miserable pauper ne was.
for l. his very smart friends could detect
that his clothes Spelt. to say the least of
it, financial embarra ssment the uninit
ated would have thought him quite suffi-
GENTLY smart. and he possessed to per-
lection the indescrIbable art of making
the very best of his well-cut rags
Suddenly his mood of easy gaiety
changed. His brOws contracted. He be-
gan TO reVolve schemes. Something must
be done. Luckily he had a dinner invita-
ton for that evening; not the sort of
thing for which 1t was necessary TO dress.
but gathering of three or four shabby
elegants in a cheap restaurant In Soho.
There was poet coming: they would
prOba bly, drink absinthe. and that would
be delightful. Absinthe always gave An
thony an unreal, brutal view of life.
Once. he remembered. when under it's in
fuence. seeing woman run over by a
cab. The spectacle had left him quite I'M
moved
He could last out till the evening. and
after all. this might be the day on which
his real career was to commence. He
had the consolation of knowing that each
succeeding day held that possibility Still.
lie must go on strivinG-for Anthony was
pleased to call the days hopeless saunter.
striving. 1t was impossible that matters
could continue like this. He would turn
into the park and think it out; it would
be quite dry now.
He passed in by one of the more unfre-
quented gates and. avoiding the FASH
ionabe part. in case he should meet any
body whom he knew. made for one of the
shady groves toward the northwest and
laid himself down in the shade. cursing
the supinanesS OF theatrical managers in
general, although disinterested person
might reasonably have asked whether the
London managers were to know by. intui-
ton that he was taking his ease on this
particular spot. and to come post haste
up Piccadilly and across the greensward
of the park bearing leading parts in their
hands. He was impatient with himself
for the condition he was in: 1t was alb
surd. He had more brains than most
people: i'm fact, he inwardly believed that
he had as many as anybody: and yet he
was unable to do such a simple thing as
keep himself in food and clothing. 1t
just showed what nonsense it was to say
that there is always work for willing
hands to do. He should like to know
where this work was. He had willing
hands He would go into the city. This
was a threat which. Anthony always Felt
ought to make fate pull itself together
and do something for him. Gradually he
worked himself up to a state of absolute
indignation over his wrongs. till. quite ex-
laust cd. ne sank into pleasant slumber
the warm summer sun coming through
the leaves above his head with Just
enough power to prove narcotic He
woke feeling hungrier than ever, and as
he lay. lstlessly gazing about him. he
saw little way off remarkably new