The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1915-05-20

NELL" P. Syba-ite unused
20 aloud
~ For an instant he was 81
lent in depression. Then with
extraordinary vehemence he continued,
crescendo. stupid -stagnant-sepuchral
sempiternally-sticky SMELL
He paused for both breath and
words, pondered with Bonded head.
knitting his brows forbiddiugly
"Stenchr' he perforated in voice
tremuous with emotion
Even that comprehensive monosylla-
BILE was far from satisfactory.
"Oh, what's the use?" P. Sybarite
despaired. His mother tongue itself
seemed poverty stricken, his native
wit inadequate.
Perched on the polished seat of a
very tall stool. his slender legs frater-
nizing with its legs in apparently mex
tricable intimacy, sharp elbows dig
ging into the nickel and ink stained
bed OF counting house desk. chin
some six inches above the pages of
huge leather covered ledger, hair rum
pied and fretful, mouth doIeful, eyes
disconsolate-he gloomed--
On this, the eve of his thirty-second
birthday and likewise the tenth ami
versary of his servitude. the appear
ance Of +. Sybarite was elaborately
mountaineering, as it did. but slightly
from one years end to the other
His occupation had fitted his head
and shoulders with a deceptive but
none the less perennial stoop. His
means had endowed him with single
outworn suit of ready made clothing.
The rudy brown hair matching his
well modelled head. his sanguine color
ing. friendly blue eyes and mobile lips
suggesting Irish Lineage. and his hands
which though thin and clouded with
smears Of ink. were strong and grace
full like the slender feet in his shabby
shoes, carried out the suggestion with
an added hint of gentle blood
The place was the counting room in
the warehouse of Messrs. Whigham &
Wimper, hides and skins
The house-impregnable lair of
the smell, from which it leered SNUG
defiance at the sea sweet atmosphere
of the lower city on a sunny April
Saturday fternoon-occupied a walled
In arch of the Brooklyn bridge. front
ing on Frankfort street. New York.
Immured in this retreat, P. Sybarite
was very much shut away from all joy
of living-alone with his $50 job (Which
al present nothing pressed). with giant
despair and its interlocutor ennui and
with that blatant, british. implacable
smell of smells.
To all of these abruptly and with
ceremony. Mr.. George Bross. shipping
clerk. introduced himself. a brawny
young man in shirt sleeves. wearing a
visorless cap of soiled linen. In one
hand he carried an envelope.
'Oh. you" said George. and checked
to enjoy a rude giggle. Presently he
controlled his mirth sufficiently to per-
init of unctuOus enunciatiOn of the fol-
lowing cryptic exclamation:
'Oh. you. Perceval"'
P. Sybarite turned pale.
You little rascal continued George,
brandishing the envelope. You're a
sly one. you are. always signin' your
name p. Sybarite' and pretendin' your
maiden monaker was Pete But now
we know you. Take off them whisk-
ers-Percevalw
A really wise mind reader would
have called policeman then and
there. for mayhem was the least of
the crimes contemplated by P. Syba-
rite.
IF that letters for me-" he said
quietly, give it here, please"
Special d'lv'ry-jus' come" an
nounced George "Oh, you Pereeval-
Esquirew