The Connecticut labor press., 1919-12-06

and nearly all seemen married by
 something impending, though here ant
 there woman with bundles would be
 laughing to companion about some
 adventure of the department store. or
 perhaps an escape from the charging
 traffic of the streets-and not infre-
 quently. a. girl, or free-and-easy young matron. found time to throw ar
 encouraging look to George.
 He took no note of these, and, leav-
 ing the crowded sidewalks, turned
 north into National avenue, and pres f1entlyA reac ched the quieter but no less j'begrin1ed~ region of smaller shops and 1 old fashioned houses. Those latter had been the homes of his boyhood play
 mates, old friends of his grandfather had lived here-in this alley he had
 foughta with two boys at the same
 time, and whipped them ,, in thatff yard he, had been successfully leased Into temp porary insanity by Sunday school class of ptnizy little girls On l that sagging perch aE laughing wofnan had fed him and other. boys with
 doughnuts and ngerbread wonder he saw the staggered relics of the iron | picket fence he had made his white pony jump; on a. ~dare,r and in the
 shabby, stone-faced house behind the
 fence he had gone to children's par ties, and,s when he was a little older
 he had, danced there oftena and fallen
 in love with Mary Sharon, and kissed
 her, apparently by force, under the
 stairs in the hall. The double fFont
 doors, of meaninglessly carved walnut,
 once so glossily vanished, had been
 painted smoke gray, but the smoke
 grime showed repulsively, even on the
 smoke gray; and over the doors a
 smoked sign proclaimed the place to
 be, g. Stag hotel" >.,-1
 This was the last walk home" he was ever to take by the route he was now following: up National avenue to Anderson addition and the, two big old houses at the foot of Anderson boulevard; for tonight would be the last night that he and Fanny were to spend in the house which the Major had forgotten to deed to Isabel. To- morrow they were to move out" and George was to begin his work in Bron- sons office. He had not come to this collapse without a fierce strugg1e-but the struggle was inward, and the roll ing world was not agitated by 1t, and rolled calmly on. For of all the ideals of life" which the world, Tn its rolling, inconsiderately fiattens out to nothingness, the least likely to retain a profile is that ideal which depends. upon inheriting money. George Am person, in spite of his record of fail- ures In business, had spoken shrewdly when he realized at last that money, like life. was '1ike quicksilver in a nest of cracks" And his nephew had the awakening experience of seeing the great Anderson estate vanishing into such a nest-in a twfnklfng; it seemed, now that it was indeed so ut terly vanished.
 On.this last homeward walk of his, when George reached the entranceE to Anderson addition--that is, when the came to where the entrance had for merly been-he gave a little start, and halted for a moment to stare. This was thef first time he had ho- ticed that the stone pillars, marking the entrance, had been removed. Then he realized that fora long time he had been conscious of queerness about l this ;; corner without being aware of 1 what made the difference. National avenue met Anderson boulevard here a: an obtuse angle, and the removal of the pillars made the boulevard seem a cross, street of no overpowering i'm portance certainly 1t did not seem to l be a bouIevard sa, a,s s; .g ;E l
 George walked by. the Mansion, hiIr- | riedly, and came home to his mothers house for the last time. ,z,
 Emptiness was there, too, and the | closing of the door resounded through l bare rooms :. for downstairs there was no furniture in the house except a table in the dining room, which Fanny had kept ''for dinner" she said, though as she was to cook and serve that meal herself George had his doubts about her name for it. Upstairs, she had retained her own furniture, and George had been living in his room. having sent everything