The Hays free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1908-1924, 1910-08-27


the professors desk He was
scholar of no mean reputation, dis
tinguished among men of letters,
rigid student and master of the
arts; yet, even now, within the pro-
fessor's deep gray eyes, there was
CLEAN Of something, savoring not at
all of sociology nor the science of the
people, suggesting no whit of dust
thick volumes, remote from class
room dictates and the rule of college
council. Was it that the professor
smiled?
He held a manuscript, sent him for
correction, a review of his latest
book, accompanied by a brief bio
graphical sketch. The professor was
reading:
at is noticeable that, from the
first, DR.. Carl Sternbaum, our emf
nent scientist, was attracted toward
the study of human nature in all its
varied phases. A boy of sixteen, he
ran away from home and joined a
band of wandering gypsy tramps. os-
tensibly to make personal observation
of the peculiar habits of this peo-
pie"
1t was at this point that the pro-
lessor laid down the paper and the
suggested CLEAN of humor took pos
session of his features.
Yes; he had run away. Who would
not have run away from the stern
discipline of a moody foster-father
and the continual nagging of a stern
faced aunt? Had his mother lived he
would have scorned this thing, but,
when she died all sympathy and love
went with her and he fought his way
unchampioned and alone.
He recalled again that day in early
spring-a Saturday half-holiday 1t
was-and yet he sat alone within the
barren spare room, swinging his legs,
detected and distressed. What bust
ness had Aunt Maria to treat him so?
He was no child, though he was frail
and slender for his age. He was six
teen, and because she had discovered
him buried deep in a volume of his
tory at time when he should have
been drawing water from the well
without, she had sent him peremptOr
lily into the cherries room, there to
await his fathers later Judgment
Sixteen-was he not man? She was
but woman! A man is always great
er than a woman, and his Utmost soul
rebelled.
Again the professor seemed
weighed down, as on that day, by
the oppressive tick-tock-tick of the
moon-faced clock, looming times
tyrant in the corner Tick-tock-tick
1t was very damp and still. But what
was that?
Down the road, far out beyond the
gardens whitewashed wall, and the
rows of nodding daffodils, came {
sound suggesting to the boy many
things. At first it was but a vague
and formless tinkle. then the cleal
echoing of numerous bells, laughtel
and shouts, the rumbling of man!
wheels. There was a sudden call t.
halt, the hoof beats paused awhile
and above the clatter Of the rest, on,
voice shrieked, Fine lace for saleI-
/ your kettles we will mend!-your fol
tune while you wait!"
| With the last blithe statement tn
I sound ceased. Aunt Maria came
raging from the kitchen, Away" sh
scowled, you good-for-nothing beg
gars-away from our clean streets
Go on to the Black Forest whence 20
come"
A gay laugh was the answer t
her ranting and the band went jane
ling on.
But the gray eyes OF the boy with
in grew wide with sudden question
/ he =,
forgetting there of stringent tyraI
( ny! There he would be free and gay
Why not? The window sash wa
open. Already it was dusk. A mC
ment's final argument, and he ha
dropped upon the new soft grass, wa
down the road, away to gypsy-land
They welcomed him, those artles
gypsy waits, made much of him an
claimed him one of them From tn
first, he was useful In counties
ways. He had head for figures an
balancing accounts, and saved tn
lawless band many scrape. The
were kind enough. but he, too. di
his part.
Yet what had kept him there, Ell
during hardships of summer drougt
and winter freshness, accomplishing
with brave grace? Was it that inne
sense of scholarly investigation sui
tly asserting itself? Was it the mer
obstinate braggadocio of a boy, mi
understood at home? Or was it
something else?
Little Rose was a fragile thinj
blue eyed and faxen curled, startling
ly unlike the other children of til
camp. The boy watched her wonde
ingly and used to ponder deeply c
her parentage. Being wise beyon
his years, and knowing the unconfor1
ity of gypsy wanderers. he asked I
IT, A. !