The Rathdrum tribune. (Rathdrum, Idaho) 1903-1963, 1913-02-21
The Door
OF Unrest
Strange HalIucinatiOns of a
RemOrseful Shoemaker
BY o. HENRY
Copyright. 1911, by Doubleday. Page
& Co.

sunlight filtered through the corn
stalks in Micajah Widdups garden
, patch and cast an amber glory upon
my paste pot. l sat at the editorial
desk in my monetary revolving chair
and prepared my editorial against the
Oligarchies.
Then In from the dusky, quiet street
there drifted and perched himself upon
corner Of my desk old Father Times
younger brother. His face was beard
less and as gnarled as an English wal
nut. l never saw clothes such as he
wore. They would have reduced
Joseph's coat to a monochrome. But
the colors were not the dyers. Stains
and patches and the work of sun and
rust were responsible for the diversity
On his coarse shoes was the dust. con-
ceivably. Of a thousand leagues. l can
describe him no further. except to say
that he was little and weird and old
old l began to estimate in centuries
when saw him. Yes, and remember
| that there was an odor. faint odor
like aloes. or possibly like myrrh or
leather. and thought of museums.
II am glad TO see you. SIR l said.
II would offer you chair. but-you
see. SIR" ! went on. II have lived in
Montopolls only three weeks and
have not met many Of our citizens"
l turned doubtful eye upon his dust
stained shoes and concluded with a
newspaper phrase. II suppose that you
reside in our midst?"
My visitor fumbled in his raiment,
drew forth soiled card and handed
1t to me. Upon it was written, in plain
but unsteadily formed characters, the
name "Michob Alder"
II am glad you called. Mr.. Alder" l
said. "As one Of our older citizens you
must view with pride the recent growth
and enterprise Of Montopolis. Among
other improvements l think I can
promise that the town will now be pro.
vided with live, enterprising news.
pa
DO ye know the name on that card ?.
asked my caller. interrupting me.
1T Is not q familiar one to me-" /
said.
Again he visited the depths Of his an.
cient vestments. This time he brought
out torn leaf Of some book or journal !,
brown and flimsy with age. The head /
Ing OF the page was the Turkish Spy |
In old style type. The printing upon II |
was this:
There Is man come to Paris |
this year 1913 who pretends to have
lived these sixteen hundred years. He
says Of himself that he was a shoe
maker In Jerusalem ut the time of the
crucifxion, that his name Is Michob
Adler and that when Jesus. the Chris.
tan Messias. was condemned by Pom
titus PLATE. the Roman president, he
paused to rest while bearing his cross
to the place Of crucifixion before the
door of Michob Adler. The shoemaker
struck Jesus with his fist saying: Go
why Earliest thou? The Messas an
swered him. L indeed am going, but
thou shalt tarry until come thereby
condemning him to live until the day
OF Judgment. He lives forever, but al
the end Of every hundred years he falls
into u fit or trance. on recovering from
which he finds himself In the same
state Of youth In which he was wher
Jesus suffered. being then about thirty
years Of age.
such Is the story Of the Wandering
Jew. as told by Michob Adler, who re.
lates"- Here the printing ended.
l must have muttered aloud some
thing to myself about the Wandering
Jew. for the old man spoke up bitterly
and loudly.
Ills lie" said he. like nine-tenths
Of what We call history. IT'S a gentle
am. and no Jew. am after foot
in 1t out Of Jerusalem. my son. but
II that makes me Jew then every
hing that comes out Of bottle is ba.
Dies milk. ie have my name on the
card We hold. and We have read the bit
u paper they call the Turkish Spy that
printed the news when l stepped into
-heir office on the 10Th day Of June,
n the year 1913. just as | have called =,
upon We today"
laid down my pencil and pad
Ilearly 1t would not do Here was an !,
tenn for the local column of the Bugle
hat-Dut 1t would not do.
l was trying to think of some con.
'ersational subject with which to In
crest my visitor and was hesltating
between walking matches and the n
'liocene age when the old man sud. !
lenly began to weep poignantly and a
listressfully. b
Cheer up. Mr.. Ader." / said, a little v
wkwardly; this matter may blow l
'ver in few hundred years more '
there has already been decided re. W
etion in favor of Judas Iscariot and b
'olonel Burr and the celebrated violin c.
st. Signor Nero. This is the age of s,
You must not allow your W
elf to become downhearted." C
'Unknowingly l had struck a chord OF
he old man blinked belligerently CT
Trough his senile tears pl
TITS time" he said. that the liars til
e dom justice to somebody. Yer his VI
orians are no more than a pack OF m
ID women gabblin' at wake. A fine,
lan than the Emperor Nero niyer xvor. pl