Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1916-12-01

Is my last Trip Oh LHO LOdu IL IAat
capacity: I am coming in now tot
take charge of the firms books.
Would be glad to have you call on
me any time you're in the city. Good
BY" And, as he swung off the slow
ly-moving train, now entering the city,
and I stood watching him from the
open door of the caboose as he rapid
ly walked down a suburban street, /
was positive his gait was anything but
steady-that the step-the figure the
whole air of the man was that of one
then laboring under the effects of par
tial intoxication.
/ have always liked peculiar peo-
pie: no matter where I met them, no
matter who they were; if once i'm
pressed with an eccentricity of char
acter whichsI have reason to- believe
purely unaffected, I never quite for
get the person, name or 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 hasty visits to the city,
I often called on the eccentric Mr..
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 / knew of
him the more liked him, but think
I never fully understood him. No one
seemed to know him quite so well
as that.
Once had a little private talk re-
garding him with the senior partner
Clark, just prior to my call, had gone
to lunch-would be back in half an
hour. Would / wait there in the Of
flee until his return? Certainly. And
the chatty senior entertained me -
Queer fellow-Mr. Clark las his fa4
Their was before him. Used to be a
member of the frm-his father; in
fact, founded the business made
fortune at it-failed, for an unfortu-
nate reason, and went ''up the flume.'
Paid every dollar that he owed, how
ever, sacrificing the very home that
sheltered his wife and children-but
never rallied. He had quite a family,
then? oh, yes; had a family-not a
large one, but a bright one-only they
all seemed more or less unfortunate.
The father was unfortunate very
and died so, leaving his wife and two
boys-the older son much like the IA
ther-splendid business capacities, but
lacked will-couldn't resist some
things-even weaker than the father
in that regard, and died at half his
age.
But the younger brother-our Mr..
Clark-remained, and he was sterling
straight goods" in all respects.
Lived with his mother-Was her sole
support. A proud woman, Mrs. Clark
Ia proud woman, with broken spirit
withdrawn entirely from the world,
and had been so for years and years.
The Clarks, as had been mentioned,
were all peculiar-even the younger
Mr.. Clark, our friend, had doubtless
noticed was an odd genius, but he had
stamina something solid about him,
for all his eccentricities be re-
lied on. Had been with the house
there since boy of twelve-took him
for the fathers sake; had never
missed a days time in any line OF
work that ever had been given in his
charge-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
a comfortable house for his mother
and himself, and, still lad, main
tanned 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. a good word for everyone. "A
boy, sir,' the enthusiastic senior con-
cluded-"a boy, sir, that never was
boy, and never had a taste OF genu-
inc boyh6od in his life-no more than
he ever took a taste Of whisky, and
you couldn't get that in him with a
funnel !"
At this juncture Mr.. Clark himself
appeared, and In a particularly happy
frame Of mind. For an hour the de-
lighted senior and myself s. laughing
at the fellows quaint &c ~eits and
witty sayings, the conversation at last
breaking up with an abrupt PROPOSE
ton from Mr. Clark that remain in
the city overnight and accompany him
to the theater, an invitation I rather
eagerly accepted. Mr.. Clark, thank
ing me, and pivoting himself around
on his high stool, with mechanical
"Good afternoon!" was at once SUBJ
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. I 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.
Mr.. Clark still sat on the high stool
at his desk, his back toward the door,
and his ledger spread out before him.