The Appeal. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. ;) 1889-19??, 1910-06-25

AoSe OIedkIaSC to reach the Office of
carson & Jones, architects, where, in
the absence Of the heads of the office,
ne was supposed to keep the force
tremendously at work He was tired
and little disheartened. He won
oered, being already at his limit of ex-
pense for delicate wife and four ro-
DUST children, how he was going to
SEND Katherine, aged fourteen, to the
expensive private school Mary had de-
c1ded was the right thing, and which
sne mad awakened him in the night to
discuss. He had not opposed her-he
never did. What was the use? And
PROBABLY she was right. She herself
mad been to a private school: was just
OUT OFT when he had married her.
When the Office work was running
smoothly and he was going over the
plans for the Parsons mansion his
mind still ran Oh the private school,
And, for the first time, 1t came over
MIN that he was approaching middle
age and was on salary. generous
enough. but which was not like being
IN business for. himself. Once, ten
years ago, he had turned down such a
chance for a partnership. He could
run no risk of not succeeding. There
was his family. On the New Years
eve when he married his girl-wife he
made to himself the sincere VOW to do
always the right thing by her. He
kept the VOW, and he renewed it yearly
and at the birth of each child. Be-
cause OF this he belonged to no clubs,
d1d not smoke, denied himself any
friendship that would cost money, for
otherwise he could not have carried
heavy life insurance without restrict
ing household expense. He wondered
II other men had this limp, gray, grim
ly respondent feeling to fight? He
tried to shut his mind to it.
But the private school required. It
would eat into the money he had been
putting aside for capital if ever he saw
q chance to get into business for him.
self. He had said nothing about this
fund, but 1t had meant self-denial. He
supposed, however, that the grades she
had just finished were enough of the
public schools for his super-refned lit
tie daughter, his pride, and the chief
pawn in Mary's carefully planned
social game. But he worked on with
that steady reliability, that evenness
that held him in his place when log
tcally a younger and more brilliant
man would long ago have replaced
him. Sometimes he had an uneasy
feeling that the firm would be glad if
he gave them good reason to let
him go. "
He thought now of Sorter, a little
younger than he, of "Sorter and Sort
er" across the hall in the big office
building. He liked this ~go-ahead
young fellow, his zeal and ability, his
self-confidence. He had longed to &C.
cept his proffered friendship, but he
could not afford it. He could not af-
ford to lunch where Sorter did, be-
long to his clubs, to share his amuse-
ments. j
When noon came Hart dismissed
the working force-it was to be half
holiday, but with the force of habit he
continued going over the Parsons
plans. Young Doty had made mis-
take here-another there. His quick,
practised conscientious eye missed
nothing.
It must have been one o'clock when
Sorter himself put his head in at the
door, saw Hart and, coming over be-
hind him, took hold of his fine but
rather bent shoulders and straight
ened him back.
You're coming out to Luncheon
me, and l won't be refused-again.
You always turn me down, Hart, but
l believe on my soul you've nothing
against me! want to see you-come
along!" ;
Hart hesitated for a moment, made
ready.
If your wife expects you this aft
ernoon, you can phone her you are
not coming; I"want you for the mat
inee- and for something else, too"
continued Sorter.
Despite himself Hart obeyed-in-
deed he was willing to be amused-he
wanted to forget the private school
and some proposed alterations in the
house, and a dress suit for Don. who
thought he needed one, and who
thought himself a candidate for COL
lege. 4
The two men had substantial
lunch at good place, and then went
to Sorter's club, where they played
billiards, and finally sat together in
the library. They talked, Sorter
leading where he wished, and Hart
had a queer feeling that this man,
albeit in a friendly way. was sizing
him up" but he always had seemed
to do that. 7 ~
The play to which they went was
light thing enough, modern to a de-
gree, still it bore it's lesson, and was
a fruitful theme for comment-lightly
and continually made by the younger
man. It was the old American story
of the overburdened man, the overin-
dulged family living a little beyond it's
means. 49,. . ,
"That fellow is paying for the sin
of not doing right by himself Sorter
remarked. Its a common mistake.
Nc man who pinches and deprives
himself can grow. AS he grows old
CT. he gets afraid to take the initia-
tive, to risk, because his caution for
his family hampers him. In the end
it is even worse for his family than
for himself" v.
Hart nodded, and finished, slowly.