The Brattleboro daily reformer. (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1913-1955, 1922-08-01

Observation-Disclosures
man of the name of Antony Gilling-
ham was handing up his ticket at
Woodham station and asking the
way to the village. He is an i'm
portant person to this story, so that
it is as well we should know some
thing about him at the top of the
hin on some excuse. and have a good
look at him.
The first thing we realize is that
he is doing more of the looking than
we are. Above a clean-cut, clean
shaver face, he carries a pair of
gray eyes which seem to be absorb
ing every detail of our person. To
strangers this look is almost alarm
ing at first. until they discover that
his mind is very often elsewhere;
that he has. so to speak, left his eyes
on guard. while he himself follows a
train of thought in another direc-
ton.
He had seen a good deal of the
world with those eyes. When at the
age of twenty-one he came into his
mothers money. f400 year. old
Gillingham looked up from the
"Stockbreeders' Gazette" TO ask him
what he was going to do.
See the world" said Antony.
"Wen. send me a line from Ameri-
ca, or wherever you get to-"
Right" said Antony.
Old Dillingham; returned to his pa
per.
Antony, however, had no intention
of going further away than London.
His idea of seeing the world was
to see. not countries, but people; and
to see them from as many angles as
possible. There are all sorts if you
know how TO look at them. So An
tony looked at then-from various
strange corners; from the view
point OF the valet, the newspa per-
reporter. the waiter. the shopassis-
tant. With the independence of f400
year behind him. he enjoyed it
immensely.
He was now thirty. He had come
to Woodham for a holiday, because
he liked the look of the station. His
ticket entitled him to travel further.
but Woodham attracted him. Why
not get out?
The Iandlady of THE George" was
only too glad to put him UP.
While he was finishing his lunch.
the landlord came in to ask him
about the luggage. Antony ordered
another pint OF beer and soon had
him talking.
at must be rather fun to keep a
country inn," he said. thinking that
1t was about time he started another
profession. You ought to take
holiday"
Funny thing you're saying that"
said the landlord, with smile. AN
other gentleman, over from The Red
House, was saying that on'y yester-
day. Offered to take my place an
ALL" He laughed rumblingly.
1.-THE Red House? Not The Red
House, Stanton?"
That's right, sir. Stanton's the
next station to Woodhan. The Red
House is about a mile from here-Mr.
Ablett's."
Antony took a letter from his
pocket. It was addressed from ''The
Red House, Stanton" and signed
bill"
Good old Bill" he murmured TO
nlT0SeLI. ne BSAtAh5 0ha
Antony had met Bill Beverley two
years before in tabacconist's shop.
Gillingham was on one side OF the
counter and Mr.. Beverley on the
other. Something about Bill. his
youth and freshness, perhaps, at
tracted Antony; and when cigarettes
had been ordered, and an address
given to which they were to be sent,
he remembered that he had come
across an aunt Of Beverley's once
at a country-house. He and Antony
quickly became intimate. But Bill
generally addressed him as Dear
Madman" when he happened to
write.
Antony decided to stroll over TO
The Red House after lunch and call
upon his friend.
As he came down the drive and
approached the old red-brick front of
the house, there was q lazy murmur
of bees in the f1ower-borders, a gentle
cooling of pigeons in the tops OF the
elms, and from distant lawns the
whir of q mowing-machine, that most
restful Of all country sounds. -
| And in the hall man was bang
| ing at locked door, and shouting
''Open the door, I say; open the
door,
'Hallor, said Antony IN amaze
ment.
CONTINUED In Our Next Issue) ]