Middletown transcript., 1909-04-17

Walllng OF Lne Wliiu oOO"s
ranch house walls, and Charters
turned from the piano to light q
cigarette.
The stranger in the deep arm
chair across the room stirred
slightly, and uncrossed bis legs.
/ suppose you know you play
magnifcently, hesuggested, with
an affected Indifference.
Only SO SO. said Charters,
chserfully. l thought the same
myself once, until I was told on
the best authority That there was
something vital MISUNDERSTANDING
or something.
/ don't see it. protested the
stranger.
Charters shrugged a pair OF
broad, round shoulders.
No, you wouldn't, he said,
bluntly, you're not Of the elect;
you can appreciate but not ap-
praise; you know when a thing
pleases you, but never pull it to
pieces to see if its charm is pro-
duced correctly. For Instance,
you would deal in exactly the
same way with theses pictures,
his glance indicatlngthe walls OF
the room, they're all fair; quite
good men have said they re fair.
The stranger, rose from his
chair, and made slow detour Of
the room, examining each paint
ing in turn, while Charters
watched him from the piano stool
with a quizzical half smile.
You think they're pretty good?
he queried at last.
1 think they're uncommonly
good, said the other, with touch
Of asperity.
thoughted ycu would, laugh
ed Charters, exultantly, but
they're not; they average So
are the two novels l have
written, which | dare say you
have half-reaa at some time and
thrown aside. He broke off with
a short laugh. You must bear
with a hermit's egotisms;; this is
the first time efor oversa year that
I have talked with any one who
has a thought beyond a COW or
horse. I have only entered on my
novitate to the prairie; give me
another two years, and | shall
have adapted myself.
The stranger slowly paced the
room.
It's nothing to do with me, he
said, l don't know you; if did, !
think you. would rather annoy me
but why-all this2 His ges-
ture embraced the log walls of
the room, the dreary glimpse Of
driving snoWu through the tiny,
double framed window. 1t seems
such Internal waste. Here are
you, with capabilities most Of US
would give our eye teeth to pos
sess, burying yourself in the
wilderness to raise hnrses-or is
it cattle?
Cattle, replied Charters, short
horns. ] find that with a little
care I can raise good shorEhorns
far better shorthorns than pic
lures, books or music, and that's
something.
The stranger stopped in his
stride, and regarded him fxedly.
Charters smiled YEARLY.
Yes, he said, you probably
think me mad; perhaps I am,
but / was sick of it-sick of going
just so far and no further with |
everything I touched. Some
men can easily satisfy them
selves with it; others never rea-
lie it; but to a few mediocrity is |
q curse, a direct dispensation,
and I am one of these. Never
to do anything that matters;
never to leave the rut; to feel in
stinctively but surely that you
never will, try as you will. To
struggle on the treadmill of life,
climbing, and then to look back
and find yourself exactly where
you started; oh, I tell you I was
sick of it! It's worse than fail
ure; you can at least distinguish
yourself BY going to the bottom
time.
Charters flung the dead cigar
cite beneath the stove, and con-
tinued more slowly:
One day l realized that I had
never done anything big, or
strong; that / never should in
the cramped life I was then liv-
ing, so I left, and came here,
where there is room, and some
times-lately especially I be-
lieve I have put one foot over the
lead line. ! built this ranch
from my own plans, and riders
have told me it is the best ap-
Il