Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1918-05-10
XIII.
The Gate of the Moon.

A curious friendship had sprung up
between old Adelbert and Bobby
Thorpe. In off hours, after school, the
boy hung about the ticket takers
booth, swept nov to a wonderful clean
illness and adorned within with pic
lures cut from the illustrated papers.
Outwardly Adelbert was peaceful.
The daughter now received his pension
in full, and wrote comforting letters.
But his resentment and bitterness at
the loss Of his position at the opera
continued, even grew.
For while he had now even a greater
wage, and could eat three meals, be-
sides second breakfast and afternoon
coffee, down deep in his heart old
Adelbert felt that he had lost caste.
The opera-that was a setting! He
had been, then, of the elect. And now,
to what had he fallen! To selling
tickets for an American catchpenny
scheme, patronized by butchers, by
h~ousemaids, by the common people
a noisy, %uproarious crowd, that never
theless counted their change with
suspicious eyes, and brought lunches
In paper boxes, which they scattered
about.
There was, however, a consolation.
He had ordered a new uniform. Not
for twenty years had he ventured the
extravaganza, and eyen now his eau
tious soul quailed at the price. For
the last half dozen years he had
stumped through the streets, painfully
aware Of shabbiness, of a shiny back,
of patches. when, on the anniversary
of the great battle to which he had
sacrificed a leg, the veterans marched
between lines of cheering people.
Now, on this approaching anniver-
sary, he could go peacefully, nay, ven
proudly. The uniform was of the best
cloth, and on it's second fitting showed
already its marvel of tailoring.
On an evening a week before the
parade would occur, he got out his
with straight soles, the right not much
different from the left in shape. Thus
he managed thriftily to wear, on his
one leg, first one of the pair, then the
other. But they were both worn now,
and because of the cost Of the new
uniform, he could not buy others.
Armed with the better of the two
he visited the cobbler's shop, and there
met with bitter news.
"a patch here, and a new heel, ON
rade," he said. with that and a pol
fishing, it will do well enough for
marching"
The usual group was in the shop,
mostly young men, a scattering of gray
heads. The advocates of strange doc.
trines, most of them. Old Adelbert
disapproved Of them, regarded them
with a sort of contempt.
Now he felt that they smiled behind
his back. 1t was his clothing, he felt.
He shrugged his shoulders disdain.
fully. He no longer felt ashamed be.
fore them. Already, although the
tailor still pressed its seams and
marked upon it with chalk, he was
clad In the dignity of the new uni.
form.
He turned and nodded to them. "a
fine evening"" he said. IF this
weather holds, we will have a good
day for the marching" He squinted
a faded eye at the sky outside.
"What marching?"
Old Adelbert turned on the speaker
sharply. probably you have forgot.
ten," he said sc%ornfully, but In a week
comes an anniversary there are many
who will remember. The day of o
great battle. Perhaps" he added, iii
you do not know Of what I speak, there
are some here who will tell YOU"
at is the way of the old to live In
the past" a student said. Then, imi'
tating old A~delbert's majestic tonei