The Morgan City daily review. (Morgan City, La.) 1916-1920, 1917-09-24
AMan'SaMan

10 De QlSSlpdleU ana not 10 care !.
She brushed Jack Wakefield asid,
scornfully as she turned to leave tn,
room. THAT is the worst thing tina
can be said of any man. she added.
Jack blocked the door just in time
There was nothing to lose now, so il
didn't matter what he did.
Before you CO." he said quietly
you may as well hear my opinion OF
you. It's only fair, you know. As
long as you've gone out of your way
Il haven't gone out of my way" she
interrupted, glazing at him as much as
her sweet blue eyes were capable Of
ION the contrary, it has been forced
upon me. 1t Is true you may not have
asked me directly for my opinion of
you. But-well, in view of other mat.
tiers, 1t was only fair that should only
tell you before-before We part for
everi"
He gripped the portiere 50 that It
stretched away from the brass rod
above. and began to snap.
that's al right" he said. But
you'd better know how I feel, too. It
will be something at least fer you to
look back to. Let me tell you in the
beginning that you haven't the slight
est idea Of what you are talking about.
But suppose you are right when you
say that l don't care"
What Is there in every man Of such
human perversity that always prompts
him, when he Is accused, to make him
self out SO much worse than he really
is? Jack Wakefield went on reck-
lessly.
"Yes. I'm one Of the boys, and am
going to be as reckless as I please with
my own life. As between the life
lead and some Of your sweet Sunday
school notions there can be no hesita-
ton on my part. purpose to gamble
when l want to, drink when l want to,
swear when l want to. and do general
~ as please without let or hindrance
And, by and by, when you have learned
q little more of this old world you will
find that q man can be q man for all
that"
And so they parted.
He went to his club and had three
highballs in succession.
She went to her room and cried it
out.
1t sometimes happens. however, that
a good cry doesn't do much to relieve
the situation. Eleanor felt no better
the next day. Her responsibility for
this young man somehow grew upon
her. To her ardent and pure girlish
she herself was to blame
For every excess that she felt sure he
must be committing now.
When she had first heard of his dis
sipatiOn it had come as q great shock
70 her.
And when she had confronted him
With It all, and his carelessness had !
angered her so. she had turned him
If. she was only conscious that she
vas doing right. Now, however, she
elt guilty. What was he doing mean !
While? Suppose in his reckless aban-
Ion he should commit some crime!
She shuddered at the thought. After !
III, would it not have been better to !
'ear with him In patience, to make !
he endeavOr to lead him back to the !
'aths Of rectitude7 Was this, after
II, not her w0man's duty? Besides.
ftcr the stress Of their parting, she
ound that it was hard to forget this
erring young man. She
oved him In spite of his wickedness,
nd his last words haunted her.
A man! Yes, she felt that under
cath his devil-may-care manner there
'as a man after all, in spite of the
act that her own experience, strict as
!: had been, had never permitted her
, appreciate this kind Of a tempera-
tent.
And finally there came the day when
he could stand it no longer. She
ould not, could not, shoulder this re-
possibility.
Her letter was dignified, yet suffi-
emily humble.
Il feel that have been wrong" she
rote, "in saying what I did to you,
I'D hope that you will forgive me.
Ill you not? l cannot, in my pride.
TX you to come back to me, but If Of
,ur own free will you care to do 30.
will endeavor to show you that real
9 my own imperfections." And so
j.
Jack, who had been up at bridge late
70 night before, read the letter
lemnly in one Of the recesses of the
ub.
he was sober enough now.
1.-THE dear girl" he said, "she is. at
> o1l yno6o of tho ,irbf cf,,ff Ennyr I