The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1910-04-14

The nanurall at tne sue OI tue
steps leading down from the employ
ment Office was much worn. Hugh
Bannards eyes had dropped thought
fully upon 1t as he came out of the
door at the top of the street steps and
paused to decide what to try next.
Hundreds of hands, thousands, yes,
tens of thousands of hands, must
have touched that iron rail, going
up or down.
Thousands of other job hunters,
1ust like himself, the young fellow
thought, with that heavy feeling un-
der his ribs which people call sink
ing of the heart--thousands of others
had come here and gone away again,
all looking for the chance of earning
a living, most of them departing dis
appointed, as he was departing. The
clerk inside had told him coldly that
they could not place a quarter part
of their applicants, an unusually
frank statement. So 1t was sort of
Bridge of Signs, this little stairway
with the iron handrail, with the last
depository for fellows vain hopes at
the top end of it.
He looked out at the passing crowd.
It was made up of men mostly. young
and old men, passing, passing, pass
ing below him. They were all bust
ness and professional men. They had
work, every one of them, from that
big. fine-looking fellow with the silk
hat just alighting from the motor by
the curb, who evidently was person
of consequence in the bank across
the way, to the little chap with the
flashy tie and the green fedora who
was just coming out Of the haber-
dasher's next door, on his gleeful way
to the lunch counter.
1t was the twelfth day since he had
first stepped into the Chicago streets,
and they had been the most misera-
BILE twelve days of his life. 1t would
have been bad enough to be home
sick for the quiet Michigan home If
he had been behind somebody's coun-
ter or at somebody's Office desk.
where he could earn his way. 1t was
"tough," as he whispered under his
breath, to be homesick ION nothing a
week"
Il was the luncheon hour-at least,
It seemed to be for most of these
men. He had been trying not to
think about food for himself. Indeed,
1t had become serious question with
him whether he could afford such a
luxury at all to-day. He fingered one
last small bill in his pocket, and re-
membered that his room rent would
be due again on Monday-room rent
for another week, in advance. This
was Friday. "If the folks at home
knew" he thought, wouldn't / be
fed up this noon"
Somebody had come out of the door
behind him and was standing at his
side. Something in the quiet pause
of the other made Hugh look up quick
ly. He looked into pair of pleasant,
friendly gray eyes that were regard
Ing him with interest through the
glasses that covered them.
well, did you get job?"
The man was not young. He was
tall and rather slender, erect, but
"'hh thO iOoh VI 9Oalo uPOh IilS
hair was white. He was smooth
shaven except for gray mustache
and a small goatee, which somehow
at once suggested the old soldier to
the boy.
"oh, no, 1 didn't said Hugh,
lightly.
Neither did l." said the man.
Are you looking, too?" Hugh
asked.
His eyes went over the other again
involuntarily. There was something
fine about the man. His face and his
hands, as Hugh saw them now, had
the peculiar silvered look that old
peoples faces and hands show some
times, as IL the skin were turning a
satin-gray, too. like the hair. He was
30 straight, so quiet, so self-con-
tained, and yet the corners of his eyes
were twinkling with a smile that
opened his lips also in frank sort OF
comradeship.
oh, yes" he answered, eve been
looking quite while. Nobody
seems to want an old man"
He laughed little, and Hugh was
iorgetful for an instant of his own
troubles.
They don't seem to want boys
either" he said, slowly. 'I've been
standing here watching all these mel
go by, and wondering why they all
have Jobs They're like you and me
aren't they?"