New Britain herald., 1924-06-27
NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY


 service at the outbreak Of the great war. l saw myself later, transferring 10 the army, which later decorated me for valor. And then I saw the months that followed the war. Wounded in the last battle before the armistice. I was discharged, as cured, six months later. Illness developed, and the last of my fathers estate went to pay my hospital bills. l saw myself seeking work. l re- membered the sudden horror that swept over me when l discovered that I was incompetent. l was a dilettante and the world refuses to pay the amateur I knew no trade. no profession. The only thing that could do better than most people fas the performance of certain tricks in seight- f-hand, That was because few people practiced parlor magic.
 had in me a streak of stubborn ness. that l called pride that forbade me 10 trade upon my fathers friend ships. Like all youths who have been brought up with the idea that there will always be enough mony available for their wants, was con ceited. thought that success was an easy matter.
 I will not recount all the visions that passed before me as I looked at the miniature. Suffice it, that with times hard, got no work. And when finally I had swallowed my pride and was willing to work as a common manual laborer. illness and privation had sapped my strength. I had moved from the best hotel in> New York to as shabby n rooming- house as the city held. And now my landlady threatened me with eviction.
 Well, could al least assure myself another week of shelter. Aftetr that --I refused to contemplate what would follow after the proceeds of my transaction with the pawnbroker wso gone.
 I had not eaten for forty-eight hours. Before that had eaten scantily. mot more than once a day, for six months As a sandwich man, as an errand man when l could get job as guardian of motorears parked on the city streets, had managed to pick up enough, added to the results Of frequent trips 10 the pawnshop, to pay my small rental, and buy myself an occasional meal But for the last two days had earned nothing. And I was too proud 10 beg. Today was starving.
 recognized that fact at last. Starvation. That, unless yielded to the impulse of self-destruction, was my inevitable end. The battle was over even though might post pone surrender for a few hours longer |, born and bred in luxury, educated in the best university in America, connoisseur Of tho fiae arts. would die in blackest poverty. And probably the only person 10 mourn would be little Peter Cannon, the landady's son, whom I had fre- quently amused with tricks of leger- demain
 Al least, though, I would die owing nothing. So l rose, putting the min- iature in my pocket, and unsteadily descended the stairs 10 the street. I. walked uptown to Washington Square, then crossed to Sixth avenue.
 The oily gentleman with hard black eyes, with whom had had so many little transactions in the past. looked up as the bell on the door tangled at my entrance. It was an unfiourishing establishment that he ran. never was compelled to meet curious eyes.
 But this evening he was engaged. He leaned across the counter whis- pering 10 client who also looked up at my arrival. He looked away again swiftly, but not before I had time 10 gain an impression of shrewd eyes, a rat-trap mouth. diamond shirt stud, rich fur collar and a general at- mosphere of money. wondered vaguely, why one SD apparently pros porous should be dickenng with paHnbroker.
 As l waited for my friend wein- berg to finish with the other man and attend 10 me, somehow seemed 10 sense that. whatever had been the subject Of their conversation before my entrance, theeir talk now con- cerned inc. The fur-collared gentle man glanced over his shoulder al me. not once but two or three times. and seemed to be putting questions to the pawnbroker.
 Then Weinberg's visitor. turning his collar up so that his nashy shirt sud was hidden. nodded abruptly to the proprietor and walked out Of the shop His hard eyes searched my lace as he passed. However he did not pause. and l promptly forgot him under stress Of my negotiations with Weinburr.
 had done too much business with the paWnbroken Tor him 10 believe that there vas any remote chance Of my redccmiHg the goods which | pledged with him. ] had every req son to believe that he took advan- tage Of my poverty: yet I was too proud tg. open negotiations elsewhere.
 l did Ast baggle. asked for ten dollars: the ivory alone was worth more than that, I believed: the silver frame in which the portrait was set must also have been worth at least fen dollars. Intrinsica1Iy. the thing. as a work Of art. was worth hun- dreds. seHiimentaIiy. it was price less. But the need of Mrs. Cannon was beyond anything else. took the five dollars that Weinberg offered and sent out Her aith the later hours. l shua-