The Monticellonian., 1916-12-14


large here in the streets of the city"
It was ON the morning of st. Pat
rick's Day. l had been drifting aim
lessly around the city for hours. tossed
about by the restless tide of humanity
that ebbed and flowed in true sea fash
ion ut the Washington and Illinois
street crossing The few friends
had been fortunate enough to fail in
with prior to the parade | had been
unfortunate enough TO lose in the fur
ry and excitement attending that
event; and, brought to a sudden aneh-
orage at the Bates house landing. /
found myself at the mercy Of bound
less throng that held not one familiar
face. 1t WAS a literal jam at that
juncture, and anxious and impatient
as | was to break away, | was forced
into a bondage which, though not eX-
actly agreeable, was at least the source
of an experience that will lfnger in my
memory fresh and clear when every
other feature of the day shall have
faded.
| had been crowded into Il position
on step of the railway that gave me
a lean upon the balustrade and placed
me head and shoulders above the
crowd and although / comprehended
the helplessness of my position, was,
in a manner. thankful for the oppor-
tunity it afforded me to study the I'M
suspecting subjects just below. As my
hungry eyes went fofaging about from
face to face they fell upon the fea-
lures of an individual So singularly
abssracted in appearance and so appa-
rently oblivious to his surroundings,
that | mentally congratulated him up
on his enviable disposition.
He was Il slender man, of thirty
years, perhaps; not tall, but something
over medium height; he had dark hair
and eyes, with Il complexion much TOO
fair to correspond; was not richly
dressed, but neatly, and i'll good taste.
Instinctively | wondered who and
what he WAS; and my speculative
fancy went to work and made Il lawyer
of him-then minister-an artist-a
musician-an actor-and a dancing
master. Suddenly | found my stare
returned with equal fervor. and tried
to look away, but something held me
lie was elbowing his way 10 where |
stood, and smiling rs he came.
Il don't know YOU" he said, when, af
ter an almost superhuman effort hehad
gained my side to the discontinue of
a brace of NANCY little bootblacks that
occupied the step below. q don't
know you personally. but you look
bored I'm troubled with the same
disease and want company-as the
poet of the Sierras walls, How all
alone a man may be in crowds ="
Something in the utteranee made me
offer him my hand.
He grasped it warmly. ITS curl
ous," he said "how friends are made
and where true fellowship begins. Now
we've known each other all our lives
and never met before What dye
say?"
| smiled approval at the odd asser-
ton.
But tell me-" he continued, what
conclusion you have arrived at in your
study of me; come, now, be frank
what do you make of me?"
Although | found myself considera-
bly, startled, | feigned composure and
acknowledged that | had been Specu-
lating as to who and what he WAS,
but found myself unable to define
special character.
Il thought So" he said. mo one
ever reads by characterize one ever
will Why, I've had phrenologists
cropping around among my bumps by
the hour to no purpose, and physiogno-
mists driving themselves erosS-eyed,
but they never found it, and they never
will The very things of which l am
capable they invariably place beyond
my capacity; and, with like sageness,
the very things | can't do they declare
me to be "A master hand at. But like
to worry them; it's fun for me. Why,
old Fowler himself, here the other
night, thumbed my head as mellow as
a May apple, and never came within
mile of ii Some characters are
readable enough, I'm willing to admit.
Your face, for instance, is bulletin
board to me, but you can't read mine,
for I'm neither a doctor lawyer. ar
fist, actor, musician, nor anything else
you may have in your mind. You
might guess your way all through the
dictionary and then not get it. It's
simply an impossibiiity, that's all.
| laughed uneasily, for although
amused at the quaint humor of his lam
guage, Il nervous fluttering of the eyes
and spasmodic twitching of the cor
ners of his mouth made me think his
manner merely an affectation. But |
was interested, and as his conversation
seemed to invite the interrogation, |
fatty asked him to indulge my Curl
osity and tell me what he was.
"Wait till the crowd thins, and may
be ] will. In the meantime here's a
cigar and here's light-as Mr.. Quilp
nlayfully remarks to Tom Scott
Smoke away, you dog YOU
well, you're a character said |.
obviously.
Yes" he replied, but you can't tell
what kind, and | can tell you the very
trade you work at
l smiled incredulously.
Nov don't look lofty and assume
professional air, for you're only me-
chanic, and sign painter at that"
Although he spoke with courtesy of
address, there was a subtle something
in his eye that drew me magnetlike
and held me. l was silent.
want to know how became aware
of that fact?" he went on with q