The Fairmont West Virginian. (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1904-1914, 1913-03-17
BXCIiARLLS KILN
ARTHUR HORN LBElIl .l.!.R !
LLySI!A I, q ~. 6 6olI,.1 RA4 WAlsAS

/ and influence. ones vices as well IS
ones virtues are handed down to US
ready made. He had no doubt that
in the JenEIes family soinewhereih the
unsayory past there had been a weak.
vicious ancestor from whom he had
inherited all the traits which barred
his way to success.
The crowds OF hungry workers grew
bigger every minute. Every one was
elb6WinE his way INTO nelghboring
restaurants, crowdfng the tables and
bufets, all eating toraciously as- they
talked and. laughed Howard was
rudely reminded by inward. paugs that
he, too, was famished. Not q thing
had passed his lips since he had left
home in Harlem at eight o'clock that
morning and he had told Annie that
be would be home, for lunch. There
was no use staying downtown any
longer. For three weary hours be had
trudged from Office to office seeking
employment, answering advertise
ments, asking for work Of any kind;
ready to do no matter what, but all to
no purpose. Nobody wanted him at
any price. What was the good OF a
man being willing to work il there
was no one to employ him? A nice
Lookout certainly Hardly a dollar
left and no prospect Of getting any
more: He, hardly had the courage to
return home and face Annie. With a
muttered exclamation Of impotence
he spat from his mouth the hali.con-
sumed cigarette which was hanging
from his lip, and crossing Broadway.
walked hstlessly In the direction OF
Park place.
lie had certainly made mess OF
things. yet at one time, not so long
ago what a brilliant future life
seemed to have in store for him! No
boy had ever been given a better
start. He remembered the day he
left home to go to Yale; he recalled
his fathers kind words OF encour'
agement. his mothers tears. All, II
his mother had only lived! Then,
maybe; everything would have been
different. But she died during his
freshman year, carried OF suddenly
BY heart failure. His father married
again, young woman 20 years his
Junior, and that had started every
thing Off wrong. The old home life
had gone forever He had felt like
an intruder the first time he went
home and from that day his fathers
roof had been distasteful to him. Yes,
that was the beginning Of his hard
luck. He could trace all his misfor.
tunes back to that, He couldn't stand
for stepmother, q naughty, selfish,
sllperciIious. ambitious creature who
had little sympathy for her predeces.
sor's child, and no scruple in show
ing 1t.
Then, at college, he had met Robert
Underwood. the popular upper class
man, who had protested to take a
great fancy to him. He, timid young
freshman, was naturally fiattered by
the friendship Of the dashing, fascinat-
ing sophomore and thus commenced
that unfortunate intimacy which had
brought about the climax to his trou-
bIes. The suaye, amiable Underwood,
whom he soon discovered to be gen
tlemanly scoundrel, borrowed his
money and introduced him into the
sporty" set. an exclusive circle into
which, thanks to bis liberal allowance
from home, he was welcomed with
open arms. With youth Of his pro-
ciiytties and inherent weakness the
outcome was inevitable. At no time
oyertond Of study, he regarded resi-
denGs IN college as a most desirable
emancipation from the restraint, Of
ESasH Ty4 ~ 4