Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-02-24

his flaming nostrils resumed their
normal benevolent expression. TAX
ing note of these swift changes. it
occurred to Mr.. Shrimplin that rather
than risk a repetition of his recent
experience he would so far sacrifice
his official dignity as to go on foot to
the lamppost Bill would probably
stand where he was indefinitely,
standing being one of his most valued
accomplishments. The lamplighter
took up his torch, which he had put
aside in his struggle with Bill. and
walked to the curb.
And here Mr.. Shrimplin noticed
that which had not before caught his
attention. McBride's store was ap-
parently open, for the bracketed oil
lamps that hung at regular intervals
the full length of the long, narrow
room were all alight.
Mr.. Shrimplin. whose moods were
likely to be critical and censorious.
realized that there was something
personally offensive in the fact that
Archibald Mcbride had chosen to dis
regard "a holiday which his fellow
merchants had so very generally OBJ
served.
And him, / may say. just rotten
richi" he thought.
Mr.. Shrimplin further discovered
that though the lamps we're lit, they
We're burning low, and he concluded
that they had been lighted in the
early dusk of the winter afternoon
and that Mcbride, for reasons of
economy, had deferred turning them
up until it should be quite dark.
well, Pm a poor man, but I
couldn't think of them things like he
does!" reflected Mr.. Shrimplin; and
then, even before he had ceased to
pride himself on his superior liber-
atty, he made still another discovery,
and this. that the store door stood
wide open to the night.
WELL" thought Mr.. Shrimplin,
maybe he saving oil, but he's
wasting fuel
Approaching the door, he peered in.
The store was empty Archibald Me-
Bride was nowhere visible. Evil
| IDENTIFY the door had been open some
little time, for he could see where the
snow, driven by the strong wind, had
formed a miniature snow-drift Just
beyond the threshold
Either he's stepped out and the
doors bowed open,' muttered Mr.
Shrimpln, "or he's in his back Office
and some customer went out without
latching it,
He paused irresolutely, then he put
his hand on the knob of the door to
close it, and paused again. With his
taste for fictitious horrors, usually
INDUCED in, however, by his own
warm freside, he found the present
time and place slightly disquieting;
and then Bills singular and cratic
behavior had rather weakened
his nerve. From under knitted
brows he gazed into the room. The
storm ratified the shattered windows
| above his head, the dingy sign
creaked on it's rusty fastenings, and
with each fresh gust the bracketed
| lamps rocked gently to and fro, and
as they rocked their trembling
shadows slid back and forth along
! the walls. The very air of the place
was inhospitable. forbidding, and Mr..
Shrimplin was strongly inclined to
close the door and beat a hasty re-
| treat.
pllll peeTlnS uOWH Tie DdIlON IOuih
with its sagging shelves and Uttered
counters, he crossed the threshold.
Now he could see the office, a space
partitioned off at the rear of the
building and having a glass front
that gave into the store itself. Here.
as he knew. stood Mr. McBride's big
| iron safe, and here was the high
! desk. his heavy ledgers-row after
row of them; these histories of COM
merce covered almost the entire
period during which men had bought
and sold in Mount Hope.
A faint light burned beyond tho
dirty glass partition, but the tall
! meager form of the old merchant
was nowhere visible. Mr.. Shrimplin
advanced yet farther into the room
and urged by his sense of duty and
! his public spirit, he directed his steps
toward the office, treading softly as
one who fears to come upon the unex-
pected Once he paused, and address,
| ing the empty air, broke the heavy
| silence:
"Oh. Mr.. Mcbride, you doors OPEN
| The room echoed to his words.
/ ~.