The Washington herald., 1915-11-07
NE day last summer | went to Pittsburgh
well. / had to go there on business.
Nv chair-car was profitabIy well

on chair-cars. Most of them were ladies IN
brown-silk dresses cut with square yokes, with
lace insertion, and dotted wells. who refused to
have the windows raised Then there was the
usual number of men who looked as if they
might be in almost any business and going al
most anywhere. Some students Of human ma
ture can look at man in Pullman and tell
you where he is from. his occupation and his
stations in life. both flag and social but never
could The only way can correctly Judge a
felIow-traveler is when the train is held up by
robbers, or when he reaches at the same time
do for the last towel in the dressing-room of the
sleeper.
The porter came and brushed the collection
of SCOT on the window-sill off to the left knee
of my trousers. removed it with an air of
apology. The temperature was Lightweight
One of the dotted-veiled ladies demanded the
closing of two more ventilators. and spoke
loudly of Interlaken. leaned back idly in chair
No. 7, and looked with the tepidest curiosity
at the small, black, bald-spotted head just Wis
ible above the back of No. 9.
Suddenly No. hurled book to the floor
between his chair and the window. and, look
ing, | saw that it was The RoseIady and
Trevelyan, one of the best-selling novels of the
present day. And then the critic or PhiGstine.
whichever he was, veered his chair toward the
window, and knew him at once for John A.
Pescud, of Pittsburgh. travelling salesman for
a pIate-glass company-an old acquaintance
whom | had not seen in two years.
In two minutes we were faced. had shaken
hands, and had finished with such topics as
rain, prosperity. health. residence, and destina-
hon. Politics might have followed next; but
was not so Inflated.
| wish you might know John A. Pescud. He
is of the stuff that heroes are not often lucky
enough to be made of. He is small man with
a wide smile. and an eye that seems to be fixed
upon that little red spot on the end of your
nose never saw him wear but one kind OF
necktie, and he believes in cuff-holders and
button-shoes. He is as hard and true as any
thing ever turned out by the Cambria Steel
Works; and he believes that as soon as Pitts
burgh makes smoke-consumers compulsory. St
Peter will come down and sit at the foot OF
Smithfield Street, and let somebody else attend
to the gate up in the branch heaven. He be-
heves that eur" plate-glass is the most i'm
portant commodity in the world, and that when
a man is in his home town he ought to be decent
and law-abiding.
During my acquaintance with him In the
City of Diurnal Night | had never known his
views on life, romance. literature, and ethics
We had browsed. during our meetings. on local
topics, ard Thea parted after Chateau Mar
gaux, Irish stew. flannel-cakes, cottage-pud-
ding. and coffee (hey. therel- milk sep
arate). Now was to get more of his ideas.
By way of facts. he told me that business had
picked up since the party conventions. and
that he was going to get off at Coketown.
H.
Say" said Pescud. stirring his discarded
book with the toe of his right shoe. did you
ever read one of these best-sellers2 | mean the
kind where the hero is an American swell
sometimes even from Chicago-who falls in
love with royal princess from Europe who is
travelling under an alias, and follows her to her
fathers kingdom or principaly9 guess you
have They're all alike. Sometimes this going
away masher is Washington newspaper cor
respondent, and sometimes he is a Van Some
thing from New York. or a Chicago wheat
broker worth fifty millions. But he's always
ready to break into the king row of any foreign
country that sends over their queens and prin-
cesses to try the new plush seats on the Big
Four or the B. and o. There doesn't seem
to De any other reason in the book for their
La,nc, bara