The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1916-07-08

hSMslI NKN method and precision
a9~NeAZ)1MN of machine. At ex-
NS@@I1&N actly one minute to
eightlhe arrived at the
Offices of Larry & Company, hung
his coat on certain nail, donned
a lighter one and opened the safe
At exactly eiglrt-thirty he looked up
from his desk and nodded to the
incoming proprietor. At twelve he
carefully wiped his pen, closed his
books, changed his coat and went
out to a certain lunch-room, where
he ate his regular piece of pie and
drank his usual cup Of black coffee.
/ Then he smoked a cigarette, walked
around a certain block to get the
kinks out of his legs and returned to
the office and his high desk at exactly
twe1ve-thirty.
Gilman was a forty-year-old autom-
atom. The rut he had been forced
to enter early in his twenties had
never broadened Instead it grew
deeper and deeper, until, with the
passing years, it became prison.
His brain seemed to be shrive1ed,
sucked dry; his limbs obeyed some
intangible impulse, as if they were
geared to another being. Every
motion was mechanical. One could
all but hear the crealing.
He chafed against his narrow, level
path at first, but after while he sank
back, resignedly, like acolt broken to harness.
Hehad prepared himself for law, and after
leaving the University had determined to
throw himself bodily into his chosen work
His uncle's sudden death changed that
The relative who had made his education
possible left behind him food of debts, and
these Gilman dutifully shouldered. This
self-imposed burden gave him no liberty to
begin his profession, and so he accepted the
first position open: bookkeeping and its
fixed wage. 1t meant twenty dollars a
week, and that was more than law would
pay him in the beginning. OF course he
never intended to remain bent over desk;
but somehow he never grew quite square
with the world mo matter how religiously he
denied himself all of its luxuries and most
of the necessities. Thus the twenty-doIlar
nut became deeper and more difficult to
scramble out of and the more precipitous
At thirty he married Because baby
came he started to buy little house in the
country. That meant mortgage and
more denial. But the boy had to be looked
after. So Gilman arose an hour earlier
each morning and walked to the Office
That ten cents day meant interest. Also
he found restaurant where he could get
coffee and rolls for niCkel-that was five
cents gained. In year it would amount
to enough to get a new dress for his WIFE,
sand once we get on our feet again
Mary" he would say, things will be
different!"
Always it was this cry.
The years slipped by like reel of film
leaving nothing but vague, unpleasant i'm
pressions. He was still struggling tc
get out of his rut, but to get on his feet-anc
falling His boy gave him last clingine
hope. He built rosy futures for his son
He and Mary determined that their boy
should be something.
When the boy died at twelve he anc
Mary came back from the cemetery and sa
together in the empty bedroom. The very
loneliness seemed to crush them.
81 guess-guess I've been pretty mucl
of failure, Mary" he faltered, holding he
sold hand. Pretty much of a failure"
For the first time in all his narrow lif
the bitter realization dawned upon him.
Larry & Company would have called hin
a success. Whatever would have happene'
if Gilman was not in the Office each week
day at one minute of eight could but b
surmised. He was the most faithful cog i
their entire machine. Crucible steel coul
give no better service.
One evening when he came home Mar
handed him letter. 1t had been fol-
warded from town to town. The ittl
crest on the flap of the envelope sent hi
pulses mounting.
"Why-why, it's from the old Fratel
nity," he mc-TIured. From the old elias
at the UniveIa.!y. wonder-wonder-
He o. 4 Z; ard read the few line
Eneu &sDgs' It's the annual supper,
Se said 49, ing the page over an
over tn0 hh = cts to-morro
night!o