The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1914-09-12
Dick Ssymour's DIsiIIusionmsnt.

eyes," said Mr.. Tregay, the editor of
one of the leading Socialistic papers,
81 think your idea is a good one. If
you ran over to Ireland for the inside
of a week, you would be the better
able to write up an account OF the suf-
ferings of that priest-ridden country
one which will appeal to the readers
of the Weekly Trumpet" he added,
with a satirical laugh.
Mr.. Tregay and his assistant editor,
Dick Seymour, were sitting in the
smoking room of the formers luxuri-
ously-fllrnished house in Park Lane.
The editor of the Weekly Trumpet"
was short, stumpy man who fully
Hooked his fifty years. Sensuality and
self-indulgence were written on every
feature of his face; large diamond
glittered in his scarf-pin, and he lay
back in his chair, enjoying the
warmth of the roaring fire and Havana
cigar.
The sale of his popular weekly paper
brought him in many thousands year
His last leading article on the ''Un-
equal Distribution of Wealth" had
reused feelings of rebellion in the
heart of many a working man, who
spoke enthusiastically of the writer,
but little thought that he lived in
Mayfair and drank '49 port.
The policy of the Weekly Trumpet"
was to parade Christianity in Social
| ism, and in that way it found many
adherents who would have been
shocked at distinctly anti-Christian
paper; nevertheless, as the diplomatic
editor well knew, the more educated
readers were not deceived, and recog-
nized in it fercely anti-Catholic
tone.
Mr., Tregay's companion was man
of very different type. Young, tall,
and well-built, he was picture of per-
fectly-developed manhood, and though
not strictly handsome, possessed a
clever, thoughtful though somewhat
hard face.
EYES," he was saying, meditatively,
as he knocked the ash from his cigar
cite, Il think / can let you have what
you want for Friday weeks issue, As
you have often said, it is astonishing
how an intelligent race like the Irish
can believe in such superstition. These
priests must be Internally clever fel-
lows to keep them down as they do, ;"
he continued, viciously, darker look
coming over his countenance, IF only
their minds were freed from this
tyranny, and knew what liberty meant!
No doubt of it-Socialism is what they
want"
At least Dick Seymour was sincere
in his convictions, which could be
hardly said of his chief. Yet they did
not appear to bring him much consola-
tion-he looked restless and unhappy.
Having tried numerous sects, and hav-
ing entered into every intellectual fad,
he had now joined the staff of the
Weekly Trumpet" and his articles on
Socialism had attracted much notice.
He had been spoken of as promising
man, and his mind was full of hopes
for brilliant future.
A neighboring clock struck midnight
Mr.. Tregay was congratulating him.
self in having discovered a rising
genius in his assistant-editor, and
thinking complacently of the increas.
ing sale of his paper, as the other
rose to go. Thanks for an excellent
dinner and most enjoyable evening, .
said Seymour, putting on his overcoat
| Il shall get the first train to Holy.
head, and won't forget to drop you a
line Au revoir." Tregay watched
him descend the steps and then hur.
ried back to his fire and sixth cigar.
Right down in the south of Co
Kerry an old woman stood at the door
of her howell, gazing out on to the
miles of su1len peat bogs which
stretched before her. There was nc
one in sight, and Bridget Carney
| turned in with a sigh. Her visitors
room" was empty, and perhaps she