The Tupelo journal., 1918-03-22

nance. lie reau the note through once,
then running his hands through his
dark curly hair, threw himself into a
began to muse gloomily.
Why had this thing happened to
him? Surely with all his wealth and
the position which his father would
eventually bestow upon him at the fac
tory, surely, he pondered anxiously,
that ought to make people like him.
Then he carefully analysed in his W
mind the personalities OF, the most pop
ular fellows at the university.
There was Dick Morgan with his
s'rep" as a football star. Not only the
girls were mad about him, but he was
erywhere he went, always solicited for
every affair.
Haven't 1 paid enough attention to
Anne and SEN her enough flowers to
decorate a shipY' he reiterated bitter
ly. "Why did she turn me down so
casually? At least" he pondered i'm
patiently, 'she could have waited to
tell me so to my face without being so
quick about answering my letter by
messenger"
It was in the midst of his gloomy
reverie that Norman was startled by
the sound of someone whistling merri-
ly. He crossed to the window, raised
it slightly and listened. 1t was Dick
Morgan, whistling his customary six
o'clock refrain. Each night at six
the boys in the rooms adjoining the
university, court could hear Dick
whistling as though there wasn't a care
in the world.
Tonight the sound of Dicks happy
trilling had a peculiar ~effervescent eff
feet on Norman's jaded nerves.
Almost within the next moment he
found himself down the corridor out
side Dicks room. He knocked but
there was no response, so, according to
the infOrmality of the college custom,
Norman opened the door and walked
in.
Dick was sitting by the window, an
open book in his hand, but his eyes
seemed to be riveted on some object
far away. He was whistling softer
now. Suddenly he turned and gazed
at Norman without a flicker Of emo
ton on his pale, drawn face.
"Hallo, Dick?" Norman greeted mer-
riiy, "what the deuce is the matter;
don't you know me any more? Really,
old boy, l didn't mean to disturb you,
but I couldn't resist coming in for a
moment. / wanted to know what kept
you so happy all the time-and that
merry whistle of yours every evening,
how do you do it," Norman finished
without hesitating.
Dick fixed a pair of dull, heavy eyes
on Norman.
"Don't, Norman, don't-oh, she's
gone" he said, his emotion now
stirred so that his lips were trembling.
"She's gone now for good-my little
sweetheart Patty-died this morning
of typhoid. And IL" he faltered,
"Tm trying to forget-if I don't I'd go
mad" Dick explained breathlessly.
Norman tried to offer sympathy, but
in vain.
"Pn be all right by tomorrow, Nor
man, old boy, just let me alone for this
e1vening-if you will like a good fellow
nerves are a little done up"
And Norman, finding himself of nc
real assistance, silently slipped from
the room.
A new light of understanding shone
in his eyes as he took his place by the
window again in his own study. He
could hear Dick whistling again, try
ing to mend his life's broken threads
with good cheer. He felt ashamed at
being such a Stacker himself.
That was it, he suddenly realized,
that very quality he had lacked and
that very one which made Dick such a
favorite everywhere. His COMPOUNDED
"give up easily disposition and "nev-
er forgetting trouble" temperament
were his bugbears to popularity. A
look of grim determination settled it
self upon his hitherto soft features.
Some day, he pondered, I'll need this
lesson. Father always predicted that
something would happen before l took
my place in the world that would make
q man of me. And / guess it's come.
Then suddenly realizing that the
first lesson in working out a theory
was to take the most practical thing
at hand to begin on, he seized a sheet
of paper and scrawled across it a lit
tie note to Anne.
"Dear Anne-T'm sorry that / took the