The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1928-03-16
The Colfax bookplate

tire and brief-case.
Becoming increasingly busy, did
not look up from my desk again until
gradually became conscious that
some one else had not only entered
the shop but gone far past me-
raised my eyes, and saw Peter Burton
strolling toward the elevator, dragging
his suitcase with that air of complete
detachment from the world and the
fullness thereof which belongs only to
Nirvana or the lowest depths of des-
p.ration.
Without a second glance, Knew
Peters case must belong to the Sec
ond category. Mr.. barrow, though
not given to admiring things about
o.her people, considered Peters bust
less ability promising. ! had made
his acquaintance seven years before,
when he was blue-eyed, curly brown
headed cherub of vast proportions.
adorned with bed-ticking apron and
attached to the shipping Office. There
he had cOntrived, through some over
sight with reference to a nail on a
packing-case, to tear a barn door in
my brand-new skirt one day when
went in with message. This COM
paratively mild disaster apparently
determined him to run off and enlist
in the navy on the spot, and ! felt
moved to investigate until ] discov-
cred the circumstances which caused
such extreme grief.
l found them to consist almost en-
tirely of very refined widowed IA
Their with very medium-sized indie
pendent income There was also
small sister with unconventional man.
nerS. As Peter had vulgar practical
taste for making a living. Mr.. Roberts
better suited to an ardent mind than
mailing up boxes; and he now prom
ised to become one of Darrow's CHER
sources Of revenue. And 1t was my
self, whom Peter had declared to have
been, so far, the greatest influence in
his life, whom he completely ignored
that frosty October morningl
ALI that sustained me under the
blow was the arrival of our elderly
pet college professor, Prof Royal
Harrington, of history department
perched up on Manhattan Heights. |
welcomed the companionship of this
excellent old-fashiOned gentleman,
who was much attached to Darrow's,
had had an account with US for years,
and enjoyed nothing more than spend
ing hours In our society. / had
sometimes thought that his rather
timid manners had prevented him
from making many close friends.
Still, he was highly esteemed In
learned circles as leading scholar
in American history, and had heard
he had cultivated public presence in
amazing contrast to his diffidence In
society. These two assets, combined
with a charming voice In which q
faint Southern accent occasionally
could be heard, had won him some
reputation as an orator.
Of course | was the first person he
encountered on entering the shop, and
he was full of tale that morning.
had to let the catalogue go, therefore.
I've just had an invitation | like so
much!" he beamed. I'm invited to
speak in little town on the Maine
coast that's about to celebrate its hun
dred and fiftieth anniversary. Carroll
Bays the name. Many years ago II
was my summer playground"
$50 they want you to come back
and help celebrateT'
"Yes, and I'm glad to go now" said
the professor, musingly. 81 shouldn't
have cared to much sooner. per-
haps-"
''No?
"You see, my younger brother and
used to spend our vacations there,
usually together"
"Indeedr
"And the poor boy was drowned.
over twenty years ago, going to the
rescue of some fishermen whose motor
got stalled during storm; he was
washed overheard On the return trip.
The town put up cenotaph for him,
in the little churchyard So, after all
these years, as they still seem to re-
member US both, believe it would be
ungraciOus not to 60 up and rejoice
with them over their anniversary"
"Such historical commemorations
appeal to you. I'm sure" observed.
Always. Some call me olj-fash.
toned for sticking. as do. TO the
traditions of My ancestors, but
don't care!"
The professor fell t. musing, and
then, almost uncOnsciously, he sud.
denly dropped confidence. as lone.
ly person often will:
perhaps it was kindest-at least.
to my brother-that he was taken
wheI he was We're not all well suit
ed to bear the blows of life He was
highly romantic, a dreamer; injus-
tice or cruelty would have killed
him
Professor HarringtOn's voice died
away, considerably to my relief He
sat brooding moment longer, then
came to himself, with almost startling
unexpectedness. bounding off the desk.
81 must be about my business !" he
cried. II haven't been interrupting
yours. have 1? Might ! have wee
scrap of paper, to make few notes?
No, no. this will be quite adequate,
thank you'll" And declining a proffered
pad, he leaned over and fished Mr.. Rob
crts' yellow note out of the waste.
basket, and at last fiuttered smilingly
off.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Taken at His Word