Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1914-02-17

II shan't forget what you say" an
swered Mr.. Magee. "Sha,, we looR
about upstairs?"
Bland shook his head.
mo" he said. go in and go tt
bed. It's the downstairs that-tha
concerns me- Good night"
He went swiftly down the steps
/ leaving Mr.. Magee staring wondering
! ly after him. Like wrath he merg
ed with the shadows below. Magee
turned slowly and entered No. Z. A
fantastic film Of the frost was on the
windows: the inner room was drearJ
and chill. Partially undressing, ne
lay down on the brass bed and
pulled the covers over him.
At length his mind seemed to stand
still, and there remained Of all that
amazing evenings pictures but one
that of a girl in blue corduroy sui
who wept-wept only that her smile
might be the more dazzling when II
flashed behind the tears. with yel'
low locks, crisped like golden wire,
murmured Mr.. Magee And so he
fell asleep.
Every morning at s, when slumber's
chains had bound Mr.. Magee in his
New York apartments, he was awak-
ened by pompous valet named Geof-
frey. whom he shared with the other
young men in the building. 1t was
Geoffrey's custom to enter, raise the
curtains and speak Of the weather II
voice vibrant with feeling, as OF
something he had prepared himself
and was anxious to have Mr.. Magee
try. So, when a rattling noise came
to his ear on his first morning at Bald
pate inn, Mr.. Magee breathed sleepi-
ly from the covers, Good morning
, Geoffrey."
But no CHEEKY voice replied II
terms of sun, wind or rain. Surprised
Mr.. Magee sat up in bed. About him
the maple wood furniture Of suit
stood shivering in the chill Of De-
cember morning. Through the dool
at his left he caught sight of white
tub into which, he recalled sadly, not
even Geoffrey could coax a glitter
| ing drop. Yes-he was at Baldpate
inn. He remembered-the climb with
the dazed Quimby up the snowy road
the plant of the lovelorn haberdashel
the vagaries of the professor with g
penchant for blonds. the mysterious
click of the door latch on the f1ool
above. And last Of all-strange thai
it should have been last-a girl ir
blue corduroy somewhat darker thar
her eyes, who wept amid the station
gloom.
IT wonder" reflected Mr.. Magee
staring at the very brassy bars at the
foot of his bed" what new varia,
tions on seclusion the day will bring
FORTH"
Again came the rafting noise thai
had awakened him. He looked to-
ward the nearest window, and through
an unfrosted corner Of the pane he
saw the eyes of the newest variation
staring at him in wonder. They were
dark eyes and kindly. They spoke g
desire to enter.
Raising from his warm retreat, Mr.
Magee took his shivering way across
the uncarpeted floor and unfasteneo
the windows catch. From the bluster.
J ing balcony a plump little man step
ped inside He had a market basket
on his arm. His face was stranger
to razors; his hair to shears.
Magee dived hastily back under the
covers. "Wen?" he questioned.
$50 you're the fellow?" remarked
the little man in awe. He placed the
basket on the floor. 1t appeared to be
filled with bromide groceries, such as
the most subdued householder car
ries home.
which fellow?" asked Mr. Magee
The fellow Elijah Quimby told me
about" explained he of the long
brown locks, "the fellow that's come
up to Baldplate inn to be alone with
his thoughts"
You're one of the villagers, I take
it?" guessed Mr.. Magee.
You're dead wrong. I'm no. vii
lager. My instincts are all in the other
direction-away from the crowd.
live up near the top of Baldpate in 6
little shack 1 built myself. My
names Peters, Jake Peters, in the
winter. But in the summer. wher
the inns open and the red and white
awnings are out and the band play:
in the Casino every night, then I'm
the hermit of Baldpate mountain.
come down here and sell picture
postcards of myself to the ladies'"
Mr.. Magee appeared overcome with
mirth.
"a professional hermit, by the
gods!" he cried. Say, I didn't know
Baldpate mountain was fitted up with
all the modern improvements. Thi:
is great luck I'm an amateur at the
hermit business. You'll have t;
teach me the fine points. Sit down.
Just between ourselves, I'm not
regular hermit" said the plump, be-
whiskered one, sitting gingerly on the
edge of a frail chair-"not one o.
these all for love Of woman her
mits you read about in books. o.
course I have to pretend 1 am, IL
summer, in order to sell the cards ant
do my whole duty by the inn manage
ment. A lot Of the women ask mt
in soft tones about the great disap
pointment that drove me to old Bald
pate, and give 'em various answers
according to how I feel. Speaking t
you as a friend and considering th'
fact that it's the dead Of winter,
may say there was a little or no ro
nance in my life
Back to nature, in other words,
remarked Mr.. Magee.
Yes, sir; back with a rush. I wa
down to the village this morning for
few groceries, and I stopped off a
| a. to1I