Arizona republican., 1911-07-26
The Little
Green Bird
BY William Holloway.
Copyright 1910 by The Pearson Pub
listing Company.

It0u L tell YOU hlC sOu II sON
KEEP it up?" demanded the massive
tawed floorwalker, as he stood glarlng
angrily at his pale-faced, understood
subordinate. An haven't you KEEP it
up? This amt place for reading
poetry. an It amt an openair sleep
ing joint; this is department store.
Dye get that?"
Henry Marston, who earned eleven
dollars a week by sliding dressgoodS
across a shiny counter, nodded dole
fully. Il get it, Mr.. Davidson" he
said with little gasp.
The floor-walker, who had almost as
much sense of romance as an ostrich.
snorted violently. Department store
rules make no allowance for man
who stands absorbed in beautiful
dreams when he should be measuring
off seven yards of blue serge for a
Ted-nOsed spinster.
Couldn't see the old maid, could
you?" asked the floor-walker with
clumsy sarcasm. AN of course you
couldn't notice tn dumpy young
woman with her; she hadn't style
enough, l suppose"
The space before the dress goods
counter happened for the moment to
be deserted: but as a matter of pre-
caution the fiOor-walker lowered his
voice TIL young lady was Miss
DraytOn, her that's going TO marry tn
French count-an' tn old woman was
her aunt. TIL porter told me tn old
woman fairly dragged her in. An now
they've goine off huffy."
DraytOn's department store, as
everybody knows, is OLeary's greet
rival. Consequently the news that
Miss Drayton had actually come into
the store and that she had left with
out getting served caused clerks at
neighboring counters TO gaze at the
unhappy offender much as they would
at a needless puppy in the death-van
of the S. P. c. a.
Il dunno what tn old mans going
to say to me-" went on the floorwalker
gloomily. Like as not he'll fire me;
hut | guess I'll clean house before
CO."
He shook his fist at the insignificant
figure of the dreamer. "Twenty-three
for you" he growled.
Narston came slowly from behind
the shiny black counter, stufling into
his pocket the volume of Keats, which
he had been reading.
The salesladies-many of them raw.
ishing creatures with gilt hair and the
attest compleXiOns-who might rea-
sonably have been expected TO ap-
preciate romance, but who somehow
failed to associate il with MarstOn's
dropping shoulders. his pale blue eyes,
or the caricature he called his face,
made way for him as he passed. For
an instant he saw their careless,
scornful faces through a mist; the next
he was standing, bare-headcd. in the
avenue.
Fired" he said half-aloud. Fired,
by all that's holy"
lie swung upon his heel, put on his
nat, walked out and slowly up the ave
nue. AT the corner a street fakir was
telling fortunes by means of melan-
Choly green bird, which stood upon
box filed with tiny folded papers. each
containing a printed fortune, war
ranted TO strip the veil from the fu-
ture.
MarstCn had passed the man and his
feathercd prophet time out of mind,
with no thought of consulting the
oracle. Sow, in the chaos 10 which
his discharge mad reduced him, it
seemed the rToUer, almost the neces-
sary, thing to do.
He paused b. the box and placed
nickel in the fakir's grimv hand. The
man made queer sound in his throat,
and the melancholy green bird, thrust
ing down its beak with an air of pro-
found Indifference, pulled out a small
folded paper.
Marston opened II eagerly. while the
green bird with a blasG air began to
preen its detected tail feathers.
"You are about to change your posi-
ton for better one" was the legend
that confronted him.
He looked az the melancholy green
bird, and at the stOlid falIir; then he
glanced at the printed slip. After
which lie thirst the paper in his
pocket and went tEoughtfully on his
way.
Half an hour later he found himself
in the Freach quarter. a few blocks
west of Madison Square. And here.
leaning against an old-fashioncd iron
railing. he took out his paper fortune.
For the first time he noticed ne had
read 1t ouIv in part.
you are about TO change your posi-
ton for q better ore. You have failed
because you have been a dreamer. Be
practical and success is yours,"
He stood n moment in thought.
while he carefully slowed away the
precious slip of paper. Then from his
coat pocket he produced a padded
leather edition of Keats's poems.
The spectacle of a man tearing TO
pieces a well-bound book of poetry and
cremating the fragments is sufficiently
unusual TO attract attention, even in a
quiet side-street A man. who had
been smoking at the basement door Of
the house behind him. now came for
ward to the iron railing.
VAR funny" he remarked, with
strong French accent. What for you
do zat?"
Marston looked up from his labors.
He had seated himself on the curb
stone and was burning the torn pieces
of the immortal poems with great In
dustry. y.
81 got fired to-day" he explained.
81 was thinking of poetry and wasn't
on the job. Dye see?"
The Frenchman. who was short and
fat. nodded wisely. 81 chase one
waiter other day" he declared. "All
time he read papers-all time"
"a man has got TO bo practical"
I. .