The Washington herald., 1920-08-09
a Bird of Bagdad
CONTINUED FROM PAGE ONE.
By o. HENRY


and fought and eddied at a corner
of Broadway and the crosstown
street that he was traversing.
Hurrying to the spot he beheld a
young man of an exceedingly
melancholy and preoccupied de-
meaaor engaged in the pastime Of
casting silver. money from his
pockets in the middle of the street.
With each motion of the generous
ones hand the crowd huddled
upon the falling lsrgesse with
yells of Joy. Traffic was suspend
ed. A policeman in the center Of
the mob stopped often to the
ground as he urged the blockaders
to move on.
The Margrave saw at a glance
that here was food for his hunger
after knowledge concerning alb
normal workings of the human
heart. He made his way swiftly
to the young mans side and took
his arm. Come with me at
once" he said. in the low but
commanding voice that his wait
ers had learned to fear.
Punched" remarked the young
man, looking up at him with ex-
pressionless eyes. "Pinched by a
painless dentist. Take me away,
fatty, and give me gas. Some lay
eggs and some lay none. When
is a hem"
Still deeply seized by some In
ward grief. but tractable, he al
lowed Quigg to lead him away
and down the street TO a little
park.
There. seated on a bench, he
upon whom a corner of the great
Caliph's mantle has descended,
spske with kindness and discre-
tion, seeking to know what evil
had come upon the other. disturb
ing his soul and driving him 70
such ill-considered and ruinous
waste of his substance and stores.
Il was doing the Monte Cristo
act as adapted by Pompton. n. j.
wasn't II" asked the young man.
You were throwing small coins
into the street for the people to
scramble after" said the Mar
grave.
That's it You buy all the beer
you can hold. and then you throw
chicken feed TO- Oh, curse that
word chicken, and hens, feathers,
ROSTERS, eggs, and everything
connected with it."
Young sir" said the Margrave
kindly. but with dignity, though
l do not ask your confidence, l in
vite it. l know the world and l
know humanity. Man is my study.
though l do not eye him as the
scientist eyes a beetle or as the
philanthropist gazes at the OBJ
jects of his bounty-through a
veil of theory and ignorance. 1t
is my pleasure and distraction to
interest myself in the peculiar
and complicated misfortunes that
life in a great city visits upon my
fellowmen. You may be familiar
with the history OF that glorious
Harun Al Rashid. whose wise and
beneficent excursions among his
people in the city OF Bagdad Sc
cured him the privilege Of reliev-
ing so much of their distress. In
my humble way l walk in his
footsteps. l seek for romance and
adventure in city streets-not in
ruined castles or in crumbllng
palaces. To me the greatest mar
wells of magic are those that take
place in mems hearts when acted
upon by the furious and diverse
forces of a crowded population.
In your strange behavior this eve
ming l fancy a story turks. I read
in your act something deeper than
the wanton wastefulness OF a
spendthrift. l observe in your
countenauce the certain traces Of
consuming grief or despair. I re-
peat-I invite your confidence. i
am not without some power to-
alleviate and advise. viii You
not trust me-?
Gee. how you talk" exclaimed
the young man, gleam Of ad-
miration supplanting for a mo-
ment the dull sadness Of his eyes.
You've got the Astor Library
skinned to a synopsis OF preceding
chapters. 1 mind that old Turk
you speak of. l read The Ara
bian Nights when I was a kid.
He was a kind of Bill Devery and
Charlie Schwab rolled into one.
But. say, you might wave en-
chanted dishrags and make cop
per bottles smoke up coon giants
all night without ever touching
me. My case won't yield to that
kind of treatment" -.
III could hear your story,
said the Margrave, with his lofty
serious smile.
"Tn spiel it in about nine
words" said the young man, with
a deep sigh, but I don't think
you can help me any. Unless you
are a peach at guessing it's back
to the Bosphorus for you on your
magic linoleum."
The Story of the Young Man and
the Harness Makers Riddle.
81 work in Hildebrant's saddle
and harness shop down in Grant
street I've worked there fve
years. get SIS a week. That's
enough to marry on, amt it?
Well, I'm not going to get mar
ried. Old Hildebrant is one Of
these funny Dutchmen-you know
the kind-always getting off bum
jokes Hes got about million
riddles and things that he faxed
from Rogers Brothers great
grandfather. Bill Watson works
there, too. Me and Bill have to
stand for them chestnuts day af-
ter day. Why do we do IT? Well
jobs amt to be picked off every
Anheuser bush And there's
Laura.
What? The old mans daugh-
ter. Comes in the shop every day.