New Britain herald., 1925-01-30
NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY

Lllc bCds
 NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY
 He had taken down his marter's certificate from beside his pictured ships. because 1t always stung him to violent rebellion. At such mo- ments he was ready to hurl every consideration to the four winds, and ship to anywhere in the Seven Seas. Of course he knew how absurd the impulse was. That was why he had fought 1t. He had made two long cruises in the yacht; but that, was futile sort of seafaring. he thought. Auntie was there. and aunties party. It was much like being at home ex- cept tht she could not accuse him of making the wide free spaces reek like Noah's Ark with his cherished pipe.
 He had fought against that urge until he was sore with the conflict He had never even surrendered to the longing to spend just one day in Sailortown, among the docks. among the men who sailed the ships. That longing was easier to combat. He could hop into his car. get some- where outside city limits, and burn up the roads in a mad whirl of speed. But all the while he was breathing dust and gasoline fumes, his mind would roam seaward to the tall clippers and the blue of the h. dian Ocean.
 His pipe went out. He raised his head and sniffed at the thick fog now plotting out everything.
 Muttering while he knocked out the cold dottle of his pipe, he raced back to the house. sneaking in by a servants entrance. The lower part of the house was bright with lights, alive with people. He ran up to his rooms, snatched up more tobacco and light overcoat. and with a cap tucked in the pocket he crept down to the entrance again.
 He plunged into the fog, lost hisself in the by streets until well away from the house, then lit his pipe afresh, buttoned his coat, and set out at a swinging pace, regard less of fog or more cautious pedes- trians, following his nose towards the river side.
 CHAPTER II.
 Through the Fog
 Halted suddenly by a congestion of fog-bound buses, Alden Drake leaned against a lamp post and for the firts time realized how soft he had become. His chest heaved to the protest of fatty lungs, and once they came to rest his legs frightened all down the back He saw the name of bus that stopped 50 close to the electric light upon his lamp post that the shade yet shook from a light touch.
 "Burdett Road! I haven't walked two miles. And laboring like a foundered cow!" He laughed: Golf! Eighteen holes at a snails gait, seeking little ball with dam big stick, and doddling along until you find it. Then home in the car. Car here, car there, even in elevator car to take you from one floor to an- other in the house. And this is the regular thing I've done for years. Drake, you chump, you"
 Taxi, sir?" A hoarse voice parked at him out of brown patch on the fog.
 Yes. West India Docks he said. and laid hand on the cab door. Then he laughed again. in fine con- tempt of himself. No thanks, old chap. I'll walk" he said, Here, though, buy yourself a pint of rum and wait til the fog rolls by"
 He crossed the road and whistled his way onward, still following his nose towards aromas which had ten- fold intensified. He recognized the smell of ship chandleries. There was the richness of oakum, of pitch. ss tarpaulins. There was the sizzling greasy reek of fried fish and 'taters. Nearer than before tug boats hlared.
 He pushed in through the glass doors of a pretentious pub he had known years ago. As soon as he entered he knew the old time atmos. phere was gone. True, the few men standing at the bar, or sitting down in the private cubby holes had the mark of the sea upon them; but they were steamer men. Their hands were white and their clothes cut with scrupulous avoidance oi nautical pattern. AS he stepped tc the bar and called for a drink, ht heard no subdued rumble of meI discussing his strange attire. In an, real sailortown bar somebody woult have howled at his dinner clothes.
 Drake stayed half an hour, ant left full of amazement at the chang that had come over Sailortown in few short years. He felt it woult be useless to proceed by gradations He hurriedly raked over his memor, for directions. unwilling to ask, ant l plunged off through the dripping fol again. Now the street he traverse, was blatant with sound. garish witt flaming kerosene torches. Put doors swung with a regularity tha kept shaft of yellow light stabbinI across the fog blinded pavement ] happy sailor cruised by, a large hated lady lovingly draped on eacl arm.
 Drake laughed contentedly. Thi was Sailortown, as of old.
 By a winding traverse that ha'