Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-12-03
Sepen Keys to Baldpate
BY EARL DERR BI0GERs
Copyright by Bobbs- Merrill Coz

a better man might have spoken the
name of the girl he loved Its a
great little Christmas tree. The can
dies are always burning and the tim
sci presents always look good to me-"
The hermits eyes strayed far away
down the mountain-and beyond.
New York. said he, and his tone
was that in which Max had said the
words. "a great little Christmas tree
it is, with fine presents for the
reaching. Sometimes, at night here,
/ see 1t as 1t was four years ago-I
see the candles lit on the Great White
Way--I hear the elevated roar, and
the newsboys shout, and Diamond
Jim Brady applauding at musical
comedy's first night New York;"
Mr.. Max rose pompously and
pointed yellow finger at the Hermit
of Baldpate Mountain
II got you!'' he cried in triumph.
I'm wise! You want to go back
A nalf-hearted smile crossed the
visible portion of the hermits face.
Il guess I'm about the poorest liar
in the world" he said. II never got
away with but one lie in my life, and
that was only for little while. 1t
was a masterpiece while 1t lasted, too.
Usually l fail. as l have failed now.
lied when 1 said I couldn't cook for
you because / had to be true to my
hermit's oath. That isn't the reason.
I'm afraid"
"Afraid?" echoed Mr.. Magee.
Scared said Mr.. Peters, "of
temptation. Your seventh son of a
seventh son friend here has read my
palm O. K. l want TO go back. Not
in the summer, when the inn bazes
| like Broadway every evening, and /
can sit here and listen to the latest
comic opera tunes come drifting up
| from the casino, and go down and
mingle with the muslin brigade any
time | want, and see the sympathetic
look IN their eyes as they buy my
postals. 1t amt then / want to go
back. It's when fall comes. and the
trees on the mountain are bare, and
Quinnby locks up the inn, and there's
only the wind and me on the noun
tain-then | get the fever. / haven't
the postcard trade to think of--so j
think of Ellen, and New York. She's
my wife. New Yorl-it's my town
That's why I can't come among
you to cook. It'd be leading me into
temptation greater than 1 could
stand. I'd hear your talk, and like as
not when you went away I'd shave
oii lniS btdru ana Durn the manu-
script of Woman" and go down int
| the marts of trade. Last night
walked the floor till 2 I can't stand
such temptation"
Mr. Peters's auditors regarded hin
in silence. He rose and moved TOWARD
the kitchen door.
Now you understand how ii is
he said. Perhaps you will 60 ano
leave me to my baking
"One minute objected Mr.. Magee
You spoke of one lie-your master.
piece. We must hear about that
"Yes-spin the yarn, PAL" request
ed Mr.. Max q
WELL" said the hermit reluctantly
"if you're quite comfortable--it aim
very short
Please" beamed Miss Norton.
With sigh the Hermit of Bald
pate mountain sank upon a most UNI
social seat and drew his purple splen
dor close
1t was like this" he began. "Fiv,
years ago / worked for a fruit com
pany. and business sent me slidin,
along the edges OF strange seas ant
picture book lands. / met little brown
men, and listened to the soft swisl
of the banana growing. and had al
orchestra seat at revolution or two
Don't look for a magazine story abou