The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1912-10-05

collapsed kit-bag, which had in all evi.
dence received some rough usage in
Its time. and reached toward the roll.
Mr.. Ryanne interposed.
II Will see to that, my man." terse.
".
"Yes, SIR"
! "Where is your guest-list?" de-
manded Mr. Ryanne Of the manager.
"The head-porter's bureau, sir. I
will see If you have any mail" The
manager passed into his own bureau.
1t was rather difficult to tell whether
this man was an American or an Eng
lishman. His accent was western, but
his manner was decidedly British. At
any rate, that tone and carriage must
be FASHIONED by good English sover.
eigns, or for once his judgment was
at fault.
The porter dashed upstairs. Mr.
Ryanne. his bundle still snug under
his arm, sauntcred over to the head
porter's bureau and ran his glance up
and down the columns of visiting
cards. Once he nodded with approval,
and again he smiled, having discov-
: cred that which sent ripple across
his sleeping sense of amusement. Ma
/ tor Callahan, room FOG; Fortune Ched.
soye, 2o5; George p. A Jones, 21O.
Him! the Major smells of County
Antrim and the finest whisky in all
the isle. Fortune Chedsoye; that Is a
4 pleasing name; tinkling brooks, the
waving green grasses in the mead.
ows, the kline in the water, the feet.
Ing shadows under the oaks; pas
toral, a bucolic name. To claim For.
tune for mine own; happy thought"
AS he uttered these poesy expires.
sions aloud, In voice low and not un.
pleasing, for all that it was banter.
ing, the head-porter stared at him with
mingling doubt and alarm; and as IL
to pronounce these emotions mutely
for the benefit Of the other, he per.
mitted his eyes to open their widest.
"Tut, tut; that's alright, porter.
. am cursed with the habit of speaking
my inmost thoughts. Some persons
are afflicted with insomnia: some fall
oolSSp III SlllIlCAS 1 LlllllA OTully, Least.
ly habit, eh?"
The porter then understood that he
was dealing not with a species of
mild lunacy, but with that kind of
Hght-hearted cynicism upon which
the world (as porters know it) had set
It's approving seal. In brief, he smiled
! family; and if he had any pleasantly
to pass in turn, the approach of the
manager, now clothed metaphorically
in deferentialism. relegated 1t to
tho limbo of things thought but left
unsald.
Here is letter for you, Mr.. Ry.
anne. Have you any more luggage?"
mo" Mr.. Ryanne smiled. Shall
I pay for my room in advance7"
ooh. no, sir!" Ten years ago the
manager would have blushed at hav.
ing been so misunderstood. "Your
room is 20S."
will you have boy show mo the
way?"
II shall myself attend to that. II
the room 1s not what you wish II
may DO exchanged"
"The room Is tho one I telegrnphed
for. / am superstitious to a degree
On three boats have had fine state
rooms numbered EOS. Twice the num-
Der Of my hotel room has been the
san.e. On the last voyage there were
20S passengers. and the captain had
made 208 voyages on the Mediterrn
nean."
quite coincident."
"Ah, IL roulette could DO played with
such certainty"
Mr.. Ryanne sighed, hitched up his
bundle, which, being heavy, was begin.
ming to wear upon his arm, and signi.
fled to the manager to lead the way.
AS they vanished round the corner
to the lift, the head-porter studied the
guest-list. Ho had looked over 1t a
dozen times that day, but this was the
first instance Of his being really In.
tcrested in 1T. AS his chin was fresh.
ly shaver he had no stubble to stroke
to excite his mental processes; so
he fell back. as we say. upon the CON