The morning journal-courier., 1908-06-17

down into the cafe, where pull out the
 Saturday Review and glover hopefully at its contents. And then, for moment this irritating new self of mine leaves
 me, this new self that flies from the mob above as child tumbles home i from school to play.
 And then l go back to the mob, stup- 1 idly seat myself with other unreal peo-
 pie, eat, mor1sely bolt my coffee. glare
 at the toastmaster for his certain
 Wcarying of my too few spirits. grouch- fly withdraw from the mob to a seat
 against the wall smoke my cigar, and
 wonder what the devil it is all about.
 A judge, an orator, laryngeal wind mill rises. He works Up to cinema tograph climax in three quarter of an hour speech in which the deeds of his and my university are extolled to the Iekies. He lauds the bond that keeps
 us all together" (while. look angrily
 al neighbor who cheers). He leans out over his table, knuckles down, his mouth working, his legal countenance Iimpassoned with the words that flow from his fast emptyirg brain I see his thin, pink tongue moisten his
 parched lips He seems to me to he
 tnaccountably stirred hy cerulean
 fervor that I never had and never
 could have. He writhes to hls toes in
 the delirinm of his peroration. His
 hands go out in a passionate gesture
 that accompanies his climax about the
 strangely collaborating thought that the
 north, east. west and south are all one,
 bound together indissouby, If not geo.
 graphically, by the remarkable fact
 that men whose grea; -great-grandfath-
 CTS robbed the Indians In all four sec
 tions are there before him. Only he
 puts 1t poetlcally.
 He pauses, tottering on the edge of
 this precipitate concept, and sits down
 to thunder of applause that l, per-
 force stupidly join in while my cigar
 goes out. A feeble southerner, an octo-
 genarian quaVers through dull man
 uscript speech laundering divine, Ispare, passionate, oratorical, a very
 Demosthenes of twaddle ,yowls in TO- tund periods on the southerner, tho university, democracy and the war He is cheered vociferously l applaud be- cause he is through. A professor of a small college tells some doubtful stor- ies. Young --, 1909, winds up the
 talking with the only natural, human
 words of the night, He is like a vio- . let in a bed of cabbages. He says mo- thing, but the rather sweet youthful ness the delightful naivete of his one story cat the expense of Harvard) , freshen things.
 , It is over. The mob disbands into l unintereeting units. refuse-a fas- tdious self coming to the top--to join } in might cap with a few irritating ly joyous souls. It is too late to get back to my little suburb. l go to a 7 hotel. smoke my second cigar and turn / in at 1.30 in the morning
 All this was last night, you under ) stand. Now it is morning and l am . speeding toward my home. The long f roll of the hills has just come into sight Here in the trees to the left is where l nearly blew Blank into atoms . with my veteran grandfather's gun - upon a hunting trip-my one and only [ Across 6 few miles of this wooded , landscape is my personal burrow-as
 much mine as the rabbits is to him in this little forest. And in my burroW is my real life--my wife, my two boys my furnace ashes, In ten minutes : shall be telephoning to them upon my 5 way to the office. Then l shall forget , the dinner and drop off the varioue ) masks have put on since I left home