The Washington herald., 1914-09-20

/ ton of the uninsured. his motto IN
conversation was, Listen to nobody
but YOURSELF" his results justified. his
methods. With him, CAB was not only
a gift; it was a violent mania; and he
sat like a windmill within the home
circle, forever stirring the air with dis
sertations.
In such a family, l nearly failed to
learn the English language, because l
so seldom got chance to speak it.
was one of those backward children,
born with weak, agreeable smile and a
habit of giving sympathetic attention
to the person addressing me. Had l
but learned the egotist's trick of let
ting his gaze wander when the other
fellow has the floor, my history might
have been happier one.
Yes, l was a born listener, and my
family took advantage of it from the
first. Day after day my father singled
me out to brag about his business tri-
umphs; my mother chose me to hear
her grievances against my father. When
my Uncle Enoch called, it was to me
he related his "reminiscences of the
civil war, because the rest OF the family
were too busy talking about themselves
to bother with Enoch. My Aunt Esther
afflicted me more than anybody else.
She was a Spiritualist and on clammy
autumn evenings when the wind was
moaning outside, she would get me in
corner and boast of her influential
acquaintances on the other side
Never being allowed to get a word in
edgewise, formed no opinions OF my
own, but a morbid craving for quietude
and reflection haunted me. wanted a
chance to read poetry or write essays,
to creep away to some vast wilderness
and get acquainted with my soul-and
that was the chance never got.
learned the trade of accountant and
lived with my family until my twenty
seventh year, when | escaped. They
were in the midst of a political discus
sion at the time, so they did not notice
my departure. l went to the city and
looked for work. For two or three
months applied from place to place.
only to be passed on by large, -egotis-
teal proprietors who insisted on pat
ronizing me with gratuitous advice.
Finally, obtained work as bundle
wrapper in a department store.
1t was here l met the two people
who fixed my fate-Lorna Smythe and
Lorenzo McNulty. Lorenzo worked
next to me at the bundle counter and
later became my roommate at Madam
Hennessy's, where stayed. Miss
Smythe boarded at the same place and
worked at a counter near mine at the
department store. Lorenzo, standing
elbow to elbow with me all day long,
spotted me at once as good listener,
and directed at me his inexhsustible
supply of words. He knew all the
averages of the National League and
recited them over and over every morn
ing like a litany. He spent his even
ings attending vaudeville perform
ances for no other purpose, so far as I
could see, than to learn new jokes TO
tell me so he might enjoy my never
failing smiles.
We both fell in love with Lorna
Smythe about the same time.
Lorna was one of the sort of girls
who have the same number of teeth
and eyes and noses as other girls, but
these features seemed to be assembled
on her face in way that was remark
ably unrepulsive. She used to come
around to our counter to borrow string
at the lunch hour, and began to sus-
pect her of lingering trihe longer than
was necessary. Certainly she did not
come to see Lorenzo, whose face was
his misfortune. He wasn't any match
for me-until- he began to talk.
! think what attracted me most to
her was her gift of silence. You know
a lovers imagination gets to dwelling
fondly on some ideal situation, and l
loved to think of Lorna and me sitting
in some perfectly silent suburb, hold
ing hands and not saying a word for
weeks at a time. Even now l cannot
call up that picture without happy tears
springing to my eyes. l was mad to
possess her.
1t was in the parlor of Madam Hen
nesSeys that my Waterloo was fought.
There was a bright red sofa under an
enlarged crayon portrait of the late
Mr.. Hennessey, and there l would US
uaily find Lorna, reading alone, if l
got there early enough l won her
confidence in my voiceless. sympathetic
way. She was almost as silent as l 1t
was the things she didn't say to me that
made me perfectly happy. After
while my hand would steal closer and
closer to hers, until it rested on her
thumb-and then that bore Lorenzo
would show up. And he would begin to
talk about himself. He stood on an
eminence, a letter 81" as tall as the
Washington Monument. and surveyed