The Yale expositor., 1915-03-04

There are two ways of dong battle
down; or you may run away from 1t
and hide. The first method is heart
breaking, but sure. The second can
not be relied upon because of the un-
comfortable way disgrace has of turn
ing up at your heels just when you
think you have eluded her in the last
town but one.
Ted Terrill did not choose the first
method. He had it thrust upon him.
After Ted had served his term he
came back home to visit his mothers
grave, intending to take the next train
out. He wore none of the prison pal
lor that you read about in books, be-
cause he had been shortstop on the
penitentiary all-star baseball team, and
famed for the deXterity with which he
could grab up red-hot grounders. The
storied lock step and the clipped hair
effect also were missing. The super
intendent of Ted's prison had been one
of the reform kind.
You never would have picked Ted
for a criminal. He had none of those
interesting chronological bumps and
depressions that usually are shown to
such frank advantage in the Bertillon
photographs. Ted had been assistant
cashier in the Citizens National bank.
In mad moment he had attempted a
little sleight-of-hand act in which GER
tain Citizens National funds were to
be transformed into certain glittering
shares and back again so quickly that
the examiners couldn't follow it with
their eyes. But Ted was unaccustomed
to these now-you-see-it-and-n
don't feats and his hand slipped. The
trick dropped to the floor with an
awful clatter.
Ted had been lovable young kid,
six feet high, and blond, with a great
reputation as a dresser. He had the
first yellow plush hat in our town. 1t
sat on his golden head like a halo.
The women all liked Ted. Mrs. Dank-
worth, the dashing widow (why will
widows persist in being dashingO,
said that he was the only man in our
town who knew how to wear a dress
suit. The men were forever slap
ping him on the back and asking him
to have little something. Ted's good
looks and his clever tongue and cer-
tain charming Irish way he had with
him caused him to be taken up by the
smart set. Now, if you've never lived
In a small town you will be much
amused at the idea of it's boasting a
smart set. Which proves your igno-
rance. The small town smart set is
deadly serious about its smartness.
1t likes to take siX-hour runs down to
the city to fit pair Of shoes and hear
Caruso. It's clothes are as well made,
and its scandals as crisp, and its pace
as hasty, and its golf club as dull as
the clothes and scandals and pace and
golf club of its city cousins.
The hasty pace killed Ted. He tried
to keep step in set of young folks
whose fathers had made our town.
And all the time his pocketbook was
yelling, "Whoa!" The young people
ran largely to scarlet upholstered tour
Ing cars and country-club doings and
house parties, as small town younger
generations are apt to. When Ted
went to high school half the boys in
his little clique spent their after-school
hours dashing up and down Main
street in their big, glittering cars, sit.
ting slumped down on the middle of
their spines in front of the steering
wheel, their sleeves rolled up, their
hair combed a militant pompadour.
One or the other of them always took
Ted along 1t is fearfully easy to de-