The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1919-03-04
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Copyright Mcclure Newspaper syndicats.)


was artificial. His clothes were of ex-
pensive texture, indeed, but shiny spots
about the knees betrayed their years
of wear. His shoes were genuine pa
tent feathers, but so much worn that
wrinkles showed even In the profusely
cOlored tops; and the soles seemed
thinner than paper. To crown 1t all,
linen and hosiery bore the familiar I'M
substantial shade and transparentness
common to all cheap wear; and the
flowing silk" tie came direct from the
window of ten-cent store.
Calculating on the value for gold"
standard, the at first interested urban,
and even servile boy now appeared dis
gfuntled. For moment he revered the
commanding stranger. Now he thought
different.
what dya think you are?" scoffed
the little ruffian IMAM or half man?
The editor wouldn't see anyone with
out first KNOWN his name an learnin
his business"
ITS about some manuscripts" inter-
rupted the newcomer, in an agitated,
impatient sort of way.
The boy went on talking nonsense
the self-confessed writer suffering
acute torture and waiting for seconds
that seemed ages.
"You see, Bud" now q little more
ambitiously disposed, once the appar-
ant Ofk 1,o hoA &fchn
II almost got canned once for lettin
in a crazy poet that thought he was the
marvel Of the world, before the boss
could decide whether he (the latter
was in or not"
MAY l see the editor in chiefW
anew demanded the eager frantic
writer.
Gimme your card, first" repeated
the cruel and heartless urchin.
"Confound itP' calculated the young
man. again l losei" His voice was
spiced with pain, sorrow and despair
Then he drew a deep breath and
Strengthened himself out Ignoring the
boys reply, he muttered determinedly,
half to the listener and half to him.
self:
"Oh, I'll see him somehow"
With this pithy resolution In mind he
fastened out of the unfriendly hall, in
to the elevator, down into the dirty
street, and in a few minutes found
himself on Times square, celebrating
by what subway he might get farthest
away from what in his opinion were
narrow-minded, hated, exclusive jour
nalists who set their watchdogs, in
young talent like himself from proving
their "art"
But where could he go? Reverend
ing traffic in streams moved down
the streets, and nudging people fiocked
and crowded the sidewalks. He
glanced at the peaceful green of the
square; even there were people. After
half-dozen unkempt boys had offered
to shine his boots for "jitney" he
managed to make his way to one of
the benches and sat down among a dis
tinguished company, consisting of rest
ing business men, habitual "air breath
ers" and ordinary loafers-an ideal at
mosphere, exactly the kind for a tenn
peramental tramp or poet.
From above lowered in midst of 9TH
er skyscrapers the redoubtable Singer
building. The youth gazed at its lofti-
ness. His eyes blinked in the binding
Af a,.ita \
shrugged his shoulders in absolute dis
gust.
you are an asst" he exclaimed.
Yep, Bill Wilkins, you're an ass.
You thought you'd be rich some day,
but you're not. You thought you'd
have the price of q Singer building,
but you won't. You haven't even got
a girl. You're no good-absolutely no
good !"
With this highly encouraging opin-
ion of himself he succeeded in some
what depressing his spirits. In fren-
zy, suddenly he snatched a large en-
velope from an inside coat pocket and
tore it to shreds He felt that in do
a
vengeance upon the woodland, real
ly, he felt mean with it,
he dug his hands deep In his pock-
cts and continued brooding.
"You boob You wanted romance,
and now you've got it. You left good
home and a swell girl-and got disin-
herited for it. Now she's going to mar
ry Hindu You thought you'd be-
come a wonder in New York You
spent your last ten bucks for a type
writer. Now the lan'lady's fired you
out into the street. Bill Wilkins,
agree with you, you're an asst"
Downheartedness his only sense OF
feeling, Bills mind soon became eX
hausted with all he sorrowed anC
pinned over his hard luck. His worries
had prevented him from sleeping vel
much as his young and ravenous appe
tite required. Then, too, he felt veal
and tired Before long slumber vel
coined his disconnected mind.
Sweet dreams came to him, as the!
come to all the crestfallen, weary ant
sad. He dreamed that he was home
and the Singer millions his. And thu
Hindu, too, had not won his sweet
heart, but had gone to where he be
longed, in the East. His first ant
childhood love was his wife. One
more he was rhyming and chanting
songs of love to the girl who had beel
| his inspiration and caused him to com
F., TO the great, writing Babel and striv
| against fate He had reached his goa
| realized his ambition. Love had no
tri1ed with him; it had made him an
| the mate whom he so fondly adore
! happy. But the delectable, beautiful
vision did not last long.
He was soon awakened by sharI
singing rap on the skin-thick soles Q
his shoes. His beauteous thrill var
ished. The blood no longer tingled /
! intoxicated fascination in his veins;
boiled in incensed passion at his IL
diligence in allowing himself to doz
away and thus bring him into tn
J clutches of the law.