Montana oil and mining journal. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1931-1953, 1938-01-08


phone. He stared for mOmen
at the telegram from his fathel
which he'd found under his door Whel
| he'd come back from classes a feS
! minutes earlier.
Boston Mass 1887 Nov 2
AM 10
JAMES DEACON
HARVARD UNIVERSITY
! CAMBRIDGE
WILL YOU GO TO YALE GAM
WITH ME THIS AFTERNOON PHONl
ME RITZ JAMES OWENS
Slowly, with hands thrust deep int
the pockets of his gray Stacks, Jimmt
went to his study window and gaze'
down into the narrow Cambridge stree
below.
The street was already lined with car
bearing Connecticut plates and flaunt
ing bright blue banners. Over on TIT
corner of Mt. Auburn and Plympton
a swarthy street hawker was selling
blue and crimson tokens with complete
impartiality. Old Cambridge was stir.
ring under it's elms this bright Novem.
Der day, in anticipation of another
Harvard Yale football battle.
Jimmie thought over the converse
ton he'd just had with his mother
"But haven't seen him for eight years
and I'd promised to take you" he'd
said. who will go with you?"
There had been long pause before
his mother had answered softly: Oh
Aunt Sue would love to go with me
Jimmie. and think you should go with
your father wonder when he
came back to this country. The last I
heard he was in Poland" She hesitated,
Jimmie, please give him my best"
So that was that. He stared abstractly
out of the window q moment longer,
then, throwing his slender figure into
the shabby great chair he d1aled the
Ritz with slow elaboration. AS calmly
as possible, he asked for Mr.. James
Givens
'sHello." said brisk, pleasant voice.
saThis is Jimmie," answered the boy
tensely and then, though he knew at
once who 1t was, he asked: THAT you,
father?"
Somehow it didn't seem right to call
him dad" even though Jimmie could
dinnly remember doing so during that
last summer they had all three been
together on PenobScot bay
That had been, Of course, the pest
summer Jimmie had ever had; together
he and his father had sailed and fished
and. when the sun had dropped reoly
behind the Camden hills, they'd climbed
fine long flight Of weathered gray stairs
from the cool rocky beach to the little
town perched high on the bluffs. Tired
and happy, they'd hurried through the
rosy glow to report the days acGlvlIles
to Jimmie's mother, slim and lovely,
who was waiting so eagerly for the
story of their adventures.
But all too soon f. while there. re-
manned several weeks more OF golden
fail, they'd had to go back to swelter-
ING Cambridge because his father was
aiding in the preseason football tram
ing IL had been hard to leave Maine,
SO crisp and cool, behind them.
That had all happened eight years
ago when the sport writers were stlll
calling his father, "Jimmie-the- Greag
Givens," and when young Jimmie nad
been only 10 years old; That same Iali'
after they'd come back to Cambridge,
Jimmie had suddenly been taken out
Of his day school and sent to board
Inp school in the Connecticut hills,
where he'd been the youngest and the
Ioneliest boy in the place. Even today
ne wasn't quite sure what had happened
and he'd never asked his mother about
It.
Just before he'd been sent away to
school, he'd overheard Uncle Ned, MS
ather's older brother, pleading earnest
" in the parlor, with his motner; one
Seemed strangely pale and had looked
IS though she'd been crying: Uncle
Ned had said something about sope5 !
)ne being still a public hero ana
cursed with superabundant vitality.
women pursue him 1t isn't enJnely
his fault he's learned his lesson"
but his mother had shaken her
head and burst into tears. Then, AFTER
! moment Jimmie had heard her say,
NO, Ned, I don't want to talk ABOUT
t any further-pleaSel"
II hadn't made any sense at all to
title Jimmie, so he'd ttptoed quietly /
mt of doors to kick his new football.
The next day, Uncle Ned had taken
lirn to boarding school and his father
lad not been there to say, "Goodby"
o him. Jimmie was told he was away
~ business. At the time it had all
eemed very queer to him but the oil
iculties of the new school had quickly
described his mind. Two years later,
yhen he was lust IL, his mother had
married. Robert Deacon and Jimmie mad
,een given his name
$50 you got my telegram, JlmmleY
he voice on the wire brought MN OUT
e the sWirling past. Il want 70 see
on. win you have lunch with me and
o to the game2 I've got two seats In
he cheering sectionl"
The boy tried to answer casually puJ
! was difficult. I'D like To-"
"That's fine Come to room BOA, son,
aid the friendly voice. ut viii be great
o see you"
He was trembling as he left the
levator and stood in the hall outside
rs fathers room. The white door with
8 bright brass knocker was like Q
assageway to a dim past that ne nad
II but forgotten. He took deep breath
nd pressed the buzzer; it rasped
arshfy and he heard faint Footsteps
oming to the door.
Jimmie squared shoulders that would
ave been broader If it hadn't have
cen for that bad scarlet fever attack
hen he was IA his hand straight.
ned his club tie black-and-red !
anded one worn proudly because
e knew his father had also been IN
ne Dickey. Vaguely he wondered II he
Iolld be expected TO kiss his parent. ]
The brass knob clicked sharply and
big square -shouldered figure almost
He'd the doorway, looming blackly
gainst the bright noon sunlight. JIM ,
lie blinked at the light as a deep
Dice said quietly:
'It's nice to see you, young fenerl
mice Of you TO ask me I. sir,
a.. - sfna% ~