Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1918-08-16
Van Vivier's
Scoop
o0
By r. M. GILMRR
copyright. 1913, Western Newspaper Union.l
By r. M. eILMRR

E~AlSleuCS, as Hnlup van NlVler
planned it, was to be a very pleasant
affair, though it had little enough
about it of that strenuous life so ar
IDENTIFY advocated by Mr.. Roosevelt. He
had youth, and health, and wealth, and
he pictured the future a gay kaleido-
scopic mingling of golf, and polo po-
MES, and grand opera, and little sup
pers after the play.
Then, too, to crown it all, there
was Madge. Madge, tall and slight,
and svelte, with the tawny gold in her
hair, and the eyes that changed with
every changing thought-that were
as blue as summer skies when
she smiled, and grew black as
midnight when she thrilled to any
deep emotion. Philip could hardly re,
member a time when he had not loved
her. They had grown up, boy and
girl, together, with something singu-
larly similar in their fate. Both were
orphaned children, left to the unten-
der care of unwilling relatives, and
Philip never forgot the moment Of
their meeting. His uncle's place adj
Joined that of Madge's guardian, and
he had been wandering about the
ground a forlorE and lonely childish
figure, when he first came upon the
little maid. She gave one long look
at his somber face, and mourning
clothes, and then with the swift and
intuitive sympathy that God gives
to even the youngest child, she went
up 70 him.
little boy" she lisped, for she was
scarcely more than a baby, little boy,
is 'oo lonesome, and doesn't nobody
love 'oo?"
"No." he answered with a sob
from the depths of his hungry little
heart.
"Don't c'y, little boy" she comfort
ed, slipping her hand in his. 81 ill
love 90 and 100 won't never be lone
some any more" and, indeed, it seemed
to Philip he had never been lonesome
again. There was always Madge.
But who may count securely on the
future? Move the kaleidoscope ever
so gently, and its figures change. One
turn of the hand of fate and the bright
tered forever. There came a day when
Philip had to do, not with visions
of a golden future, but with a hard
and merciless present. Suddenly as
an unexpected thunderbolt came the
failure of the trust company in which
his fortune was invested, and he
awoke M morning to find himself
that most pitiable of all creatures on
earth-the nan who needs money, and
knows no way of earning it. He had
taken the blow standing, with a smile
on his lips, like the thoroughbred he
was, and just how deep the hurt went
none knew.
pheasant prospects," was his sole
comment, with a shrug of his Shout
ders to those who would have con
doled with him on his loss, "a beer
income, and a champagne taste. Do
you happen to know the best way to
adjust them?"
He might meet the situation with
laughter and scoffing so far as others
were concerned, but when it came to
Madge it was another thing. II can't
ask her to marry a beggar," he said
to himself, setting his teeth, and with
a face as white as death, "and I'm not
poltroon enough to settle down and
live on her money" and there had
been a terrible scene in which he
had told her this, and released her
from her promise to marry him.
sob, Philip, Philip" she cried,
clinging to him, "what good is all my
money to me if I can't make things
easy for you? Surely there is more
than enough for US both"
Then he tried to explain to her,
blunderingly and haltfngly, that some
thing that is dearer to man than even
love of woman-that something which
he must have, or die of self-loathing-
his own self-respect.
IT couldn't live without it, darling"
he said at last, passionately, 'if 1 gave
in to fate without n struggle, and
was content to let you support me, 1
should imagine your contempt for such
a weakling in every tone of your dear
voice. l should see it in every glance
of your dear eyes. No, no, I must make
my fight and win my place in the
world of men, or / will die fighting on
the battlefield. If I succeed 1 will
come back to claim my own. If I
fail, a better man wins. Don't you
see how it must be that way?"
And in the end Madge "saw." The
that always understood 9TH
ers was part of her charm, and Philip
went away.
At college he had rather distinguish.
ed himself by some clever skits in
the college journal, and so it seemed
natural to him to turn to journalism
as the most available way of settling
the bread and butter problem. A
friend obtained a place for him on the
staff of the morning Asterisk, where
he began at the bottom of the repor-
1addar and 1earnad amonu ofhor