The Glenwood post. (Glenwood Springs, Colo.) 1897-current, 1920-03-06

~ HAa~-e
"There Have Been Times When !
Thought You Ought to Be Hanged"
hanged-but I've always been fond
of you, and now 1 like you And just
| for last word; there may be some
body else in this town who's always
felt about you like that-fond of you,
1 mean, no matter how much 1t SEEM
ed you ought to be hanged. You might
| try Hello, must run. I'll send
back the money as fast as they pay
me-so, good bye and God bless you,
Georgiew
He passed through the gates, waved
his hat cheerily from the other side
of the iron screen, and was lost from
sight in the hurrying crowd. And as
he disappeared, an unexpected poigl.
ant loneliness fell upon his nephew so
heavily and so suddenly that he had
no energy to recoil from the shock. II
seemed to him that the last fragment
of his familiar world had disappeared,
leaving him all alone forever.
He walked homeward slowly through
what appeared to be the strange
city, and, as a matter Of fact, the city
was strange to him. He had seen Lit.
tie of 1t during his years in college.
and then had followed the long alb.
sence and his tragic return. Since that
he had been scarcely outdoors at all"
as Fanny complained, warning him
that his health would suffer, and he
had been downtown only in closed
carriage. He had not realized the
great change.
The streets were thunderous, a vast
energy heaved under the universal
coating of dinginess. George walked
through the begrimed crowds Of hur.
rying strangers and saw no face that
he remembered. Great numbers Of
faces were even Of kind he did not
remember ever to have seen; they
were partly like the old type that
his boyhood knew, and partly like
types he knew abroad. He saw Ger
man eyes with American wrinkles at
their corners; he saw Irish eyes and
Neapolitan eyes. Roman eyes, Tuscan
eyes, eyes of Lombardy, Of Savoy,
Hungarian eyes. Balkan eyes, ScandI.
| navian eyes-all with a queer Ameri.
can look in them. He saw Jews who
were no longer German or Russian or
Polish Jews. All the people were soil
ed by the smoke-mist through which
they hurried, under the heavy sky that
hung close upon the new skyscrapers,
and nearly all seemed harried BY
something impending, though here and
there a woman with bundles would be
laughing to q 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 a free-and-easy
young matron. found time to throw an
encouraging look to George.
he took no note Of these, and, leav-
Ing the crowded sidewalks, turned
north into National avenue, and pres
emily reached the quieter but no less
begrimed region of smaller shops and
old-fashioned houses. Those latter had
been the homes of his boyhOod play
mates, old friends of his grandfather
had lived herein this alley he had
fought with two boys at the same
time, and whipped them; in that front
| yard he had been successfully leased
into temporary insanity by Sunday
school class of pinky little girls. On
that saggng porch laughing woman
had fed him and other boys with
doughnuts and gingerbread; yOnder he
saw the staggered relics Of the iron
picket fence he had made his white
pony jump. on dare, and In the
shabby, stone-faced house behind the
fence he had gone to children's par
ties, and, when he was little older
he had danced there often, and fallen
in love with Mary Sharon, and kissed
her apparently by force, under the
stairs in the hall. The double front
doors, of meaninglessly carved walnut,
once so glossily vanished, had been
painted smoke gray, but the smoke
CRIME showed repulsively, even on the
smoke gray; and over the doors n
smoked sign proclaimed the place to
be "Stag hotel"
This was the lost 'wa1k 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