Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1914-01-23
FINISHED HIS WORK
BY ). A. TIFFANY.

The man was old and DrOkon III
spirit. His life had beer 2 failure, AZ
! all lives are, measured by b degree
I'm which they fulfill the dreams OF
youth.
At two. and-twenty he had mistaken
the flush OF enthusiasm for the hre
of genius. After a quarter OF a cen
tury's devotion to small parts in third
rate theatrical companies, he had been
forced TO the conclusion that a mar
gets no more, or less, than MS
is worth; and that his own labor was
worth very little.
His wife had been beautiful. NOW,
she was a poor, faded, commonplace
creature. Her illusions, too, were all
gone, like her beauty; and, worse than
that, the mans Illusions in regard to
her were dead also.
She had no more talent for acting
than had he; and they both knew 1t
now.
OF gentle birth, she still retained
some traces of refinement, in spite OF
her long ~sojourn in Bohemia. But the
novelty, the charm. the mystery OF the
life were gone.
Every illusion had been destroyed,
save one; and to hat they chung with
desperate tenacity. At an early period
in their married life the man had
conceived a great literary project.
I've beer thinking, Evelyn he had
said one day, "of writing a historical
account of the drama from its first in
ception down to the present day.
Imagine the possibilities of such a
work."
~"Splendid!" the woman a ex-
claimed. why don't 0 begin at
once?'
And he had begun that very day. He
knew then that it was no mean task,
this that he had set himself. 1t meant
much reading, research, condenskig,
writing, rewriting and writing again.
Not a book that a man Gould rattle on
in six months or a year.
The one illusion that the hard reali-
ties of life had failed to dissipatc was
this: That though both were failures
at acting, yet one day the man was
to achieve fame for himself and a
competence for them both by the pub
LEGATION of his great history OF the
dramatic dedication to a grateful
world of his life's work.
For twenty years and more he had
stuck stoically to his task.
Often the last nickel went for pa.
psr. while the children were crying
for bread. Present necessities. were
forgotten, or ignored, in the anticipa-
ton of comforts to be bought through
the sale Of Reginald's life work.
II have finished it at last, Evelyn"
the man announced n day--one day
while they were in Baltimore. Il
have finished my life's work"
For three months he awaited the
publishers decision, calling upon them
at intervals, only to be told that his
manuscript would receive the earliest
attention possible. Three long. weary
anxious months; and then the man
tool to. his bed in a high fever. He
was delirious, and raved about HE
book.
Finished, finished" he would shout
e%xultingly. II have finished my LIES
work!"-and another time he would
repeat the same words, with a wall
of anguish and despair.
Then the woman passed her cooling
hand across his brow, and sought to
comfort him by saying his life's work
vas only just begun.
One evening as he lay helpless on
his pillow, the crimson rays OF the
setting sun shone suddenly into the
room and lighted up his pajlid face,
handsome even in emaciation. He
started up to his elbow, with wide
staring eyes,, exclaiming:
''Finished-inished! have I'm.
ished my tfe's work. am going
home"
And the tears that Welled to Eve
lyn's eyes had fallen from them to hex
cheeks, she looked once more upon
HE face and sew his words we're true.
The man was dead. He had finished
his LIES work. He had gone home.
And while the woman sat in silent
grief, gazing on the dead face Of him
whom she had loved SO well. there
came a gentle tap upon the door.
It was Mr.. Hayes, an elderly gentle
man from the publishers ONCE, who
had called once or twice before to In.
quire after the health Of the author
Of the bulky manuscript.
AT last. my dear lady" he laid. ="
am able to report that u house has
accepted your husbands life work"
"Your house?" the woman echoed,
failing at first to recognize her visitor
or comprehend his meaning-the one.
cruel sense of widowhood ovsrwhelm.
ing all things else.
Then, as the recollection Of the
fsata, book that had Slapped her hns.
bands life away came back to her
with bitter memories, she said: I
your house? Too late-too late!
He has gone to another house. There
his life's work can be Judged the best.
His life work will be accepted or re-
jected, in his fathers house."
copyright. by Daily Story Pub. Col
Something to Think About.
Laurence DsOrsAy q telling Of .
time when q brother comedian and
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