The Monticellonian., 1916-11-30
ECCENTRIC c MR.QARK VJANlES WHITCOMB RILEY
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1 then laboriug under the effects of par tiaI intoxication.
 1 have always liked peculiar peo- pie; no matter where I met them, no matter who they were; if once i'm pressed with an eeeentricity of char acter which l have reason to believe purely unaffected, 1 never quite for get the person, name CT place of our first meeting, or where the interesting party may be found again. And so it was in the customary order of things that, during nasty visits to the city, 1 often called on the eccentric Mir. Clark, and. as he had promised on our first acquaintance, he seemed al- ways glad to see and welcome me in his new office The more I knew of him the more I liked him, but l think 1 never fully understood him. No one seemed to know him quite so well as that.
 Once I had little private talk re garding him with the senior partner of the firm for which he worked. Mir. l Clark. just prior to my call, had gone to laneh-would be back in half an 1 fee until his return? Certainly. And the ehatty senior entertained me- Queer felfow-Mr Clark i-as bis fa- ther WAS before him. Used to be member of the ffrm-his father; in faet. founded the business-made fortune at it-failed, for an unfOrtu- nate reason, and went up the fume" ] Paid every dollar that he owed, how eyer, sacrificing the very home that sheltered his wife and children-but never rallied. He had quite family, then? Oh, yes; had a family-not a large one, but bright one-only they all seemed more or less unfortunate. The father was unfortunate-yery; and died so, leaving his wife and two 1 boys-the older son much like the fa- ther-splendid business capacities. but lacked will-eouldnt resist some things-even weaker than the father in that regard, and died at half his age.
 But the younger brother-our Mr. Glark-remained. and lie was sterling straight goods in all respects Lived with his mother-was her sole support. A proud woman, Mrs. Clark "a proud woman. with broken<spirit withdrawn entirely from the world and had been so for years and years. The Glarks, IS had been mentioned. were all peculiar-even the younger Mr. Clark, our friend, l had doubtless noticed was m odd genius but he had stamina-something solid about him, for all his eccentrfcities-could be re- lied on. Had been with the house there since d boy of twelye-took him l for the fathers sake; had never 1 missed days time in any line of work that ever had been given in his eharge-Was weakly looking, too. Had worked his way from the cellar up from the least pay to the highest had saved enough to buy and pay for q comfortable house for his mother and himself, and, still a lad main taiRed the expense of companion, at tendant and maid servant for the mother. Yet, with all this burden on his shoulders, the boy had worried through some way, with jolly smile and q good word for everyone. "A boy, sir" the enthusiastic senior con cluded-"a boy. sir, that never was a boy, and never had taste of genu , inc boyhood in his life-no more than he ever took a taste of whisky, and you couldn't get that in him with funnel -
 At this juncture MT. Clark himself | appeared, and in q particularly happy frame of mind. For an hour the de- 1 lighted senior and myself sat laughing at the fellows quaint conceits and witty sayings, the conversation at last breaking up with an abrupt proposi- | ton from Mir Clark that 1 remain in the city overnight and accompany him to the theater, an invitation l rather l eagerly accepted. Mir. Clark, thank ing me, and pivoting himself around on his high stool, with mechanical Good afternoon :" was at once sub merged in his books, while the senior, | following me out and stepping into a carriage that stood waiting for him at the curb waved me adieu, and was driven away 1 turned my steps up the street, but remembering that my | friend had fixed no place to meet me in the evening, 1 stepped back into the storeroom and again pushed open the glass door of the office.
 Mir. Clark still sat on the high stool at his desk, his back toward the door. and his ledger spread out before him.
 MT. Clark !'' I called.
 He made no answer.
 Mir Clark !' I called again, In an elevated key.
 He did not stir.
 I paused n moment, then went over to him. letting my hand drop lightly on his arm.
 Still no response. l only felt the shoulder heave, as with long-drawn quavering sigh, then heard the regu- lar though labored breathing of weary man that slept.
 l had not the heart to waken him 1 but lifting the still moistened pen from his unconscious fingers, l wrote where I might be found at eight that evening. folded and addressed the note, and laying it on the open page before him. turned quietly away.
 Poor man !" 1 unused compassion ately, with touch of youthful senti- <, ment affecting me.-"Poor man 1 Working himself into his very grave, and with never q sigh or murmur of complaint-worn and weighed down ]