Abbeville progress. (Abbeville, Vermilion Parish, La.) 1913-1944, 1919-07-05
CHAPTER II.
The First Wayfarer Lays His Pack
Aside and Falls in With Friends

ASIDE ana = ais IN WIFI
The little hall in which he found
himself was the "Office" through which
all men must pass who come as guests
to Harris Tavern. A steep, angular
staircase took up one end Of the room.
Set In beneath its upper turn was the
counter over which the business Of the
house was transacted. and behind this
a man was engaged in the peaceful
occupation of smoking a corncOb pipe.
An open door to the right of the
stairway gave entrance to a room from
which came the sound of deep, sOnO-
rous voice employed in what turned
out to be q conversational solo. To
the left another door led to what was
evidently the dining room. The glance
that the stranger sent in that direction
revealed two or three tables covered
with white cloths.
"Can you put me up for the night?"
he inquired advancing to the counter.
you look like q Teller who'd want
a room with Bath" drawled the man
behind the counter, surveying the ap-
plicant from head to foot. (Which we
amt got" he added.
"rll be satisfied to have a room with
a bed" said the other.
"Sign here" was the laconic re-
Sponse.
can | have SUPERB
Food for man and beast" said the
10 g, Ia.
upon a cracked call bell and then
looked Mt the fresh name on the page.
Thomas X. Barnes, New York" he
read aloud. lie eyed the newcomer
once more. MY name is JOnes-Put-
nam Jones. l run this place. My ia
Their an grandfather run ii before me.
Glad to meet you, Mr.. Barnes. We
used to have Il hOStler here named
Barnes. What's your idear fer footin'
it this time o the year?"
II do something like this every
spring. A month or six weeks Of il
puts me in fine shape for vacation
later on" supplied Mr.. Barnes whim-
sically.
Mr.. Jones allowed a grin to steal
over his scanned face. He reinserted
the corncob pipe and took a couple of
pulls at it.
81 never been to New York, but II
must be heavenly place for a vaca-
tion If Teller en- Judge by what some
of my present borders have to say
about it. It's sort Of play actors
paradise, amt it?'
1T is paradise 10 every actor who
happens to be on the road, Mr.. Jones "
said Barnes, slipping his big pack
from his shoulders and letting it slide
TO the floor.
Hear that Teller in the taproom
talkin'? Well. he is one of the lead
ing actors In New YOrk-in the world
for that matter. He's been talkin'
about Broadway for nearly a week
now, steady"
May | inquire what he is doing I'D
here in the wilds?"
AT present he amt doing ANYTHING
except talk. Last week he was treddin'
the boards, as he puts il himself. Bust-
ed. Up the flue. Showed last Satur-
day night in Hornville, eighteen mile
north of here, and Immediately after
the performance him and his whole
troupe started to walk back to New
York, good four hundred mile. They
started cut the back way of the opery
house and nobody missed 'em till next
mOrnin' except the sheriff, and he
didn't miss 'em till they'd got over
the county line into our bailiwick
Four of 'em are still stoppin' here
just because l amt got the heart 70
turn 'em out ner the spare money TO
buy 'em tickets to New York. Here
comes one of 'em now. Mr.. Dillinr-
ford. will you show this gentleman 70
room eleven and carry his baggage ID