The Bottineau courant. (Bottineau, Bottineau County, N.D.) 1895-1929, 1914-04-17
Il q, ,nuch of II In the world"

suspicion IL the keynote Of mOdern
life. especially IN New York" he
drew the purple dressing gown closer
about his plump form. Il remember
the last time | was in the big tOwn
seeing a crowd of men in the grill room
Of the Hoffman House. One ut them.
long. lean. like IN eel. stopped down
and whispered IN the ear OF Il little
fellow with a diamond horseshoe desc
Grating his haberdashery and pointing
to another man near by. No. | won't
says the man with the diamonds. 4
don't introduce nobody to nobody.
Let every man play his " game. 1
say That's New York. That's the
essence Of the own \ introduce no.
body to nobody"
1T seems odd" remarked Mr.. Ma.
gee. Ito hear you speak OF the time
you walked ON pavements.
II haven't always been on Baldpate
mountain" replied the hermit. Once
l. too. paid taxes and wore a derby
hat and sat in BARRIERS chairs. Yes.
| sat in EN- in many towns. in many
corners Of this little round globe. But
that's all over now"
The three visitors gazed at MI. Pc
tiers with a new interest.
"New York." said Mr.. Max softly. as
4 better "a might have spoken the
name Of the girl he loved. Its a great
little Christmas tree. The candles are
always burning. and the tinsel pres
ents always look good to ME"
The hermit's 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 reach
ing. Sometimes at night here l see It
as it was four years ago. | see the
candles lit on the great white way. 1
hear the elevated roar and the news
boys shout and Diamond Jim Brady
applauding at a musical comedy's frst
night. New York;"
Mr.. Max rose pompously and pointed
a yellow finger at the hermit Of Bald
pate mountain.
~ got your he cried in triumph.
I'm wise: You want to 60 back"
A half hearted smile crossed the wis.,
BILE portion Of the PERMITS face.
Il guess I'm about the poorest liar
In the world" be said. Il never got
away with but one lie in my life and
that was Ouly for u little while. 1t
was q masterpiece while it lasted too.
But it was my only hit as u liar.
l lied when l said I couldn't cook for
you because l had to be true to my
hermit's oath. That isn't the reason.
I'm afraid"
"Afraid?' echoed Mr.. Magee.
Scared" said MIR. Peters. ''ot tempta-
ton. Your seventh son Of u seventh
son friend here has read my palm
o. K. l. want to go back. Not In the
summer. when the inn biazes like
Broadway every evening. and I can sit
here and listen to the latest comic
opera tunes come drifting up from the
casino and 90 down and mingle with
the muslin brigade any time l want
and see the sympathetic look in their
eyes as they buy my postals. 1t amt
then l want to 90 back. It's when
fell comes and the trees on the noun
tain are bare and Quimby locks up the
inn and there's only the wind and me
on the mountain-then l get the fever.
l haven't the postcard trade to think
of-so I think Of Ellen and New York.
She's-my wife. New York-it's ny
town.
That's why l can't come among
you to cook. It'd be leading me into
temptation greater than ! could stand.
I'd hear your talk and like as net
when you went away I'd shave OF this
beard and burn the manuscript OF
Woman and 60 down into the marts
of trade. Last night I walked the
door till 2. can't stand such tempta-
ton"
Mr.. Peters auditors regarded him in
silence. He rose and moved toward
the kitchen door.
Nov you understand how it L." Ae
said. perhaps you will 90 and leave
me to my baking"
Oue mA0uCe, OBJECTED MT. H08oe.
you spoke Of M lie-your master
piece. We must hear about that"
1T was like this" he began. Five
years ago l worked for a fruit con
pany. and business sent me sliding
along the edges Of strange seas an1
picture book lands. l met little brown
men and listened to the soft swish Of
the banana growing and had an o.
chestra seat at q revolution Or two.
Don't look for q magazine story about
overthrow tyrants or anything like
that. It's just a quiet little lie In
speaking Of, told on q quiet little ATT
ernOon by the sands Of q e a. blue
as Baldpate inn must have been this
morning when ! didn't show up with
breakfast.
sitting on those yellow sands the
afternoon l speak Of. wearing carpet
slippers made for me by loving. 80 -
speak, hands, ~ Alexander Nc
Mann come along. He was tall and