White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1930-12-19
GUT THERE
g g
By FANNIE HURST
ssglssSssysszSsEsssSs:.
"a. 1880. Mcclure Newspaper syndicate,

bNNAN~lNNIANNN ANANNLNNN NSI~
"a. 1880. Mcclure Newspaper Syndicate.)
JAMES G. MORRELL was gradu-
ate Of two American universities
and French one. He had a
Bachelor of Arts degree, Mas
ter Of Arts degree, and Doctor OF
Laws degree. He spoke four Ian
guages fluently, and knew the piano,
violin, and organ, all three of which
he played with brilliancy, to say moth
ing of such lesser instruments as the
guitar and banjo.
When he was twenty-five, his patri-
mony consisted solely of his magnifi-
cent education and what natural tai
ents were so generously his.
The senior Morrell, his father and
sole surviving relative, had died
week after he had lost his enormous
holdings in Wall Street crash.
The incredible sequel to that pro-
eedure lay in the fact that young Nor
rell, instead of feeling the crush of
sudden poverty, realized within him
self a sense Of elation and release,
that at first was incomprehensible to
him. What had happened was that
vagabond, who had all his life been
imprisoned by circumstance, felt him
self suddenly freed.
For the first time in his carefully
designed life, the young Morrell dared
to admit to himself that he despised
the profession of law that had been
mapped out for him as the son of his
wealthy father; that he despised the
social routine in which he had been
born and bred; that he was free
lance at heart and that at last he was
at liberty to be himself.
That is how, during the next five
years in the Bohemian quarters in
practically every large city and sea
port the figure of James Morrell was
to become a familiar one The tall
slender young fellow, cultured, non
chalant, but vagabond in dress and
manner of living, became wanderer
in the various Bohemias of the world.
| A small ukulele, his only bit Of lug
gage, he tinkled for a living.
James Morrell wandered from CAPT
tai city to capital city, from seaport
to seaport, from Shanghai to Seattle;
from Seattle to Boston; from Boston
to Trieste; from Trieste to CONSTANT
nople; from Constantinople to Rome
from Rome to Paris from Paris to
Marseilles; and so on and on, tinkling
away on his ukulele for which, in re-
turn, he received his simple board and
lodging.
For the first time in his carefully
cultivated, extremely sophisticated
/ young lifetime, James Morrell was
! happy. A vagabond. A minstrel. New
scenes, new peoples, new pastimes.
No struggle for existence because ex-
istence could be so simple. The
world was what you made it. Young
Morrell had made his playground,
careless garden in which to sun him
self Big business, big destiny, big
responsibility passed him by. There
was never anything but loose change
in his pockets, loose jingle in his
fingertips and nonchalance ia his
heart.
James Morrell, Jr., who had been
reared as the only child of a million.
aire, turned gratefully to Bohemia
1t was in the Bohemia that is New
York's, some five and half years aft
er the death of his father, that young
Morrell walked into situation that
was to deter his footsteps from their
willy-nilly wanderings.
Thinking away his evenings in a
Greenwich Village cafe, where he re-
ceiyed in return cot in an attic and
his three meals day, young Morrell
met and fell in love with girl named
Rachel Taylor, eighteen, bizarrely
beautiful, and an art student in the
quarter
She was the daughter Of coal mer-
chant in Pittsburgh and her foray into
Bohemia was the equivalent of year
abroad after finishing school.
The spirit of Bohemia was no more
the spirit of Rachel Taylor, than the
spirit of Madagascar.
Young Morrell was not to know that
until after he had married her. He
fell in love with her in the physical
environment of Bohemia he first be-
held her in the candle-lit shadows of
garnet studios and cellar cafes. 70
him she was drenched with this spirit
Of vagabondage, and it must be said
for Rachel Taylor that she believed
herself to be filed with that gypsy
instinct
They were married on the capital of
two dollars and forty cents between
them, and the young troubadour felt
himself on the pinnacles of romance
For the first year they lived in gar
ret, while Rachel painted futuristic
ladies on satin cushion tops, and tried
to sell them at women's exchanges
and James tinkled his ukulele for
their evening meal and the slant roof
over their heads.
At the end of the second year, with
their romance lying in ruins about
them, James, no longer able to with