The Idaho Springs siftings-news., 1919-09-19


ton of correspondence, and presently
wrote letter-not q reply to his |
Aunt Fanny.
Dear Lucy: No doubt you will be sur
prised at hearing from me so soon again. |
especially as this makes two in answer
to the one received from you since getting
back to the old place. I hear you have
been making comments about me at the
theater. that some actor was more demo- |
cratic In his manners than am, which
do not understand. You know my theory
of life because 1 explained 1t to you on
our first drive together. when told you
would not talk to everybody about
things feel like the way spoke to you
of my theory of life. I believe those who
are able should have true theory Of life.
and developed my theory of life long,
| long ago.
Well. here I sit smoking my faithful
| briar pipe, indulging In the fragrance of
my tabac as look out on the campus
from my many-paned window. and things
| are different with me from the way they
were way back In freshman year. I can
see now how boyish In many ways was
| then. 1 believe what has changed me as
| much as anything was my visit home at
the time met you. So sit here with
| my faithful briar and dream the old
| dreams over as 1t were. dreaming of tho
| waltzes we waltzed together and of that
| last night before we parted, and you told
me the good news you were going to live
there, and would find my friend waiting
| for me when l get home next summer.
| I will be glad my friend will be waiting
for me. am net capable of friendship
| except for the very few, and, looking back
| over my life, I remember there were times
| when I doubted If could feel great
friendship for anybody-especially girls.
| Here in the old place do not believe in
being hail-fellow- -well-met with every
| Tom, Dick and Harry just because he
happens to be a classmate any more than
| do at home, where have always been
| careful who l was seen with largely on
account of the family. but also because
my disposition ever since my boyhood has
been to encourage real intimacy from but
the few.
From several letters from my mother.
and one from Aunt Fanny hear you are
seeing a good deal of the family since
left. I hope sometimes you think of the
member who Is absent. 1 got a silver
frame for your photograph in New York.
and keep 1t on my desk. 1t is the only
girls photograph / ever took the trouble
to have framed, though, as 1 told you
frankly, I have had any number of other
girls photographs. yet all were only pass
ing fancies and oftentimes 1 have Ques-
| toned in years past IL / was capable of
much friendship toward the feminine sex,
which usually found shallow until our
own friendship began. When I look at
your photograph I say to myself, "At
last. at last here is one that will not
prove shallow"
Friend. this is from your friend.
G. 4. M.
Georges anticipations were not dis
, appointed. When he came home II
: June his friend was awaiting him; a
. least she was SO pleased to see hin
again that for few minutes aftel
5 their first encounter she was little
( breathless and a great deal glowing
,, and quiet withal.
Lucy and her father were living al
t the Anderson hotel, while Morgan got
his small machine shops built in q
western outskirt of the town; and
5 George grumbled about the shabbi-
z ness and the old-fashioned look of the
! hotel, though it was "still the best in
I the place, of course" He remon-
strated with his grandfather declar-
ing that the whole ANDERSON Estate
would be getting run down and out
E at heel if things weren't taken in
hand pretty soon." He urged the
! general need of rebuilding, renovat-
ing, vanishing and lawsuits. But the
= Major, declining to hear him out, In
? terrupted querulously, saying that he
: had enough to bother him without any
r advice from George; and retired to
his library, going so far as to lock
the door audibly.
"Second childhoodl" George NUT
tered, shaking his head; and he
thought sadly that the Major had not
long to live. However, this surmise
depressed him for only a moment or
so. OF course people couldn't be ex-
pected to live forever, and it would
be a good thing 10 have someone in
charge of the Estate who wouldn't
let it get to looking so rusty that riff
raft dared to make fun of it. For
George had lately undergone the an
noyance of calling upon the Morgans,
in the rather stuffy red velours and
} gilt parlor of their apartment at the
! hotel, one evening when Mr.. Fred
. erick Kinney also was a caller, and
Mr.. Kinney had not been tactful. In
fact, though he adopted a humorous
tone of voice in expressing sympathy
for people who, through the city's
! poverty in hotels, were obliged to
stay at the Anderson, Mr.. Kinney's
intention was interpreted by the
other visitor as not at all humorous,
but on the contrary, personal and of
fensive.
George rose abruptly, his face the
color of wrath. Good night, Miss
Morgan. Good night, Mr.. Morgan. /
shall take pleasure in calling at some
other time when a more courteous
sort of people may be present"
Look herel" the hot-headed Fred
burst out. Don't you try to make me
out boor, George Minafer / wasn't
limiting anything at you; I simply for
got all about your grandfather own
ing this old building. Don't you try
to put me in the light of a boorl
| WON'T
But George walked out in the very
course of his vehement protest, and
it was necessarily left unfinished.
Mr.. Kinney remained only few
| moments after Georges departure.