Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1912-07-12

Have Slipped Through HE Fingers.
here's girl who, when ] see her or
think OF her, sends the pulse soaring.
from seventy-seven up to eighty-four..
Bad business; besides, it's so infer
Dally questionable. It's hard work
for man to keep his balance twiIt
the devil and the deep, blue sea; Gio>
coDda on one side and Fortune on the
other Gioconda throws open windows
and doors at my approach; but For
tune locks and bars hers, nor knocks
at mine. That's the way 1t always
goes.
III a man could only 20 back ten
years and take a new start. Asst"
balling his fist at the reflection In the
mirror. Swivel and whine over tho
bed Of your own making. You had
your opportunity, but you listened TO
the popping Of champagne-corks. the
mutter Of cards, the inane drivel d
chorus-ladies. You had a decent COZ
lege record, too. Bah! What a guile.
less fool you were! You ran on, didn't
you, till you found your neck in the
loop at the end Of the rope? And
perhaps that softfooted, estimahie
brother Of yours didn't yank 1t taut as
a hangman's? You heard the codicil;
into one ear and out the other. Even
then you had your chance; patience
for two short years, and a million. No
a thousand times no. You knew what
you were about, empty-headed fools
And today, two pennies for a deat
mans eyes"
He dropped his fist dejectediy.
Where had the first step begun? And
where would be the last? In some
drab corner, possibly; drink, NOR
phine, or starvation; he'd never have.
the courage to finish It with q bullet.
He was terribly bitter. Everything
worth while seemed TO have slipped
through his fingers, his pleasure-loy-.
ing fingers.
Come, come, Horace; buck ND,
Still the ruby kiIdles in the vine. No.
turning back now. Wen 20 on tin We
come bang! against the wall. There
may be some good bouts between here
and there. wonder what Gioconda
would say II she knew why | was %,
eager for this gamer
He went down to dinner, and they
gave him table In an obscure corner
as a subtle reminder chat his style was
passe. He didn't care; he was hungry
and thirsty. He could see nearly every
one, even II only few could see him.
This was somewhat to his vantage. He
endeavored to pick out Percival Alger-
non; but there were too many high
collars, too many monocles. SO he
contented himself with a mild philo-
sophical observance of the scene. The
murmur OF voices, rising as the wall
OF the viollns sank, sinking as thel
wall rose; the tinkle Of glass andt
china, the silver and linen, the pretty
women in their rustling gowns. the
delicate perfumes, the fash OF an
arm, the CLINT of polished shoulder
this was the essence OF life he coveted.
He smiled at the thought and the sure
knowledge that he was not the only
wolf in the fold. Ay, and who among
these dainty Red Riding Hoods might
be fooled by vulpine grandmother!
Truth, when a fellow winnowed II AMI
down to a handful, there were only
fools and rogues. If one was a fool.
the rogue got you, and he in turn de-
voured himself.
He held his glass toward the table,
lamp, moved it slowly to and fro IN.
der his nose, epicureanly;. then he
slipped the wine. Something like! I.
ran across his tongue and down hts
throat in tingling fire, nectarious; and
he went half way TO Olympus, to- the
feet of the gods. For weeks he had
lived in the West haunts, in desperate
straits, bis life in his open hands; and
now once more he had crawled from
the depths to the outer ernst Of the &.
world. 1t did not matter that he wass