The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-01-30

grinned and went fearlessy by. He had been Hor- aces classmate at Princeton and was not one whit afraid of "Old Goreem."
 'Have you seen this report?" asked the old man. holding up some papers.
 "Yes sir; looks bad. doesn't tt?" /
 "Bad!" roared the old man. '1r's worse than that It's ruin y-less we can stop It. Our sales have fallen of One fifth since Oxenham and Steere got onto tb instantaneous chocolate They've got sev- en of our best customers in the last three months"
 .And twelve during the year." added Mills quietly. ; Old Gorham looked at him.
 I we must get something. You must" he said.
 Mills nodded
 "Did you know ran those fellows out of West bury in 'S7?", asked Gorham.
 'Yes. sir. But it's pity you ran them only far as Eastport It's perfectly easy for both to go for the same trade"
 The old man said nothing. Mills watched him. He knew he had not been sent for to discuss the yearly report of Gorham < Bullock. Finally the old took up another paper.
 "This is from Horace" he said. "In debt again" ]"
 Mills raised his eyebrows if something incredi- ble had been announced. but inwardly he was grim ning He knew the old man secretly worshiped Horace.
 "Ten thousand more," said the old man. "Dd you know that his trip around the world cost me a quarter of million? He must have left streak of red paint a mile wide across Europe"
 Suddenly the door opened, and boy put his head
 Two men to see you, sir And young MT. Cor hana." n - v sy- 7-.---ze1 e1%>1.'
 ~Let Mr. German in and keep the others out. You may go. Mills"
 The door closed, opened again, and closed.
 You sent for me- sir," said Horace.
 .T did," said the elder grimly. "sit down. I want to talk to you"
 Horace sat down, swinging his stick. He wore a frock coat, high hat and gardenia in his but tonhole. mpnocle depended from a silk cord about his neck.
 The old man paused for moment, struck by the boys resemblance to his mother, that decatemind- ed, high-strung woman whose memory the old man worshiped. Although che had been dead twelve years, the wonder was still upon him that she had married him. Aye, and loved him, too, for he had not been rich when he won her. Yet with all her dainty ways, her delicate upbrnging, and her re- fnement against which his own uncouthness must at times have borne heavily, not once, in spite of his constant fear of it, had she spoken against any of This ways" But to this day the thought still troubled him that his lack of breeding had revoted her. He strove to comfort himself with the thought that when prosperity came he had been lavish with his money. and crowning penance he had yield ed, albeit sorely against his wi to her demand for college education for her boy with finishing tour of the world with plenty of money to spend.
 As he sat facing the fashionably garbed youth, so painfully out of place in business o1dce he felt
 grim satisfaction in the fact that if outward ap- pearances were to be believed. he had been right and Cecily wrong, for here sat but the ruin of a real man.
 The old man believed so little in the voices of the soul that he was accustomed to override any tend- TF he felt which threatened to warp his cool Judgment so, in this instance the halt occasioned by his sons strong resemblance to his mother was of short duration. short indeed that the boy did not notice it at all
 CT have no respect for at all, that you come to business office in business hours dressed like tail or's dummy? Gloves! And flowers! By the Lord Harry, now did you come to forget your earrings?"
 He paused. and to his intense anger he saw his son repress smile. U
 I've made you what you are! It's all my fault. sent you East to school when you should have been in common public school here in Westbury with niggers and dagoes to teach you that all men are born equal. the fool that let you go prancing all over Europe with more money than brains aping the low-down whelps that all rich mems sons have come to be. It's my fault that you got to gambling and drinking and playing the fool generally But I'll be cursed if think 1t is my fault that you've learned to dress that way,or that there wasn't enough norge sense in your mother and to make you know better than to shame before ny clerks and fel- low business men. I've lied some and I've got ahead of the other fellow by fair means foul when I found I had to get rid of him, but never was so ashamed of anything before in the whole of my born days am to think am the father of-the thing you are. It makes me sick to my stomach to look at you!"
 don't kick at your extravagances. I've paid oIten ana was going to ta4A to you and tell you 70 go little easy. But that all. I've stood your college clothes since you came home. I've borne your swalowtail at supper every evening. I've said nothing at your having your meals In courses I've aaschaEsed the cook I've had ever since your