The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1914-03-14
AWasted Day
by hlCHARD HARDING DAVIS,

HARDING DAVIS ~
and the situation as it now was
forced upon him struck him as
amusing. He laughed good-na-
turedly and reached for the desk
telephone.
+ May / use this" he asked. He
spoke to the Wall street office.
He explained he would be few
minutes late. He directed what
should be done II the market
opened in certain way. He gave
rapid orders on many different
matters, asked to have read to
him a cablegram he expected
from Petersburg, and one from
Vienna.
"They answer each other" was
his final instruction. 1T looks
like peace"
Mr.. Andrews with genial pa
thence had remained silent. Now
he turned upon his visitors. A
Levantine, burly, unshaven and
soiled, lowered truculently above
him.
"You gotta hell OF a nerve to
come to see me-" he commented
cheerfully.
"Was It you" demanded young
Andrews, in a puzzled tone, "or
your brother who tried to knife
me?"
Get Quit" said young An
drews. land don't show your face
here"
The door slammed upon the
flying Greek.
A kindly-eyed, sad woman with
a basket on her knee smiled upon
Andrews with the familiarity of
an old acquaintance.
rs that woman going to get a
divorce from my son." she asked,
now that he's in trouble?"
Now that he's in Sing Sing?"
corrected Mr.. Andrews. II hope
SO! She deserves it. That son
of yours, Mrs. Bernard, he de-
clared emphatically, lis no
good"
The brutality shocked Mr..
Thorndike. For the woman he
felt a thrill of sympathy, but at
once saw that it was superfluous.
From the secure and lofty heights
of motherhood, Mrs. Bernard
smiled down upon the assistant
district attorney as upon a
naughty child. She did not even
deign a protest. She continued
merely to smile. The smile re-
minded Thorndike of the smile
on the face of a mother in a
painting by Murillo he had lately
presented to the chapel in the
college he had given to his native
town.
THAT son of yours" repeated
young Andrews. is leech. He's
robbed you, robbed his wife. Best
thing l ever did for you was to
send him up the river"
The mother smiled upon him
beseechingly.
Gould you give me pass?'
she said.
Young Andrews flung up his
hands and appealed to Thorndike.
Isn't that just like a
mother?" he protested. THAT
son of hers has broken her heart,
tramped on her, cheated her;
hasn't left her a cent; and she
comes to me for q pass, SO she
can kiss him through the bars!
And I'll bet she's got cake for
him in that basket"
The mother laughed happily;
she knew now she would get the
pass.
Mothers" explained Mr.. An
drews, from the depth Of his wis
dom, ARE all like that; your
mother, my mother. II you went
to jail, your mother would be
just like that"
Mr.. Thorndike bowed his head
politely. He had never consider.
cred going to Jail. or, whether,
II he did, his mother would bring
him cake in basket. Apparent
ly there were many aspects and
accidents of life not included in
his experience.
Young Andrews sprang to his
feet. and, with the force of a
hose flushing a gutter, swept his
soiled visitors into the hall.
Come on" he called to the
Wisest Man, "the court is open
At a door a tipstaff laid his hand
roughly on the arm of Mr.. Thorn
dixie.
That's all right. Joe." called
young Mr.. Andrews, hes with
me-" They entered the court and
passed down an isle to a rallied
enclosure In which were high oak
chairs. Again, in his effort tc
follow, Mr.. Thorndike was halted