The guardian. [volume] (Boston, Mass.) 1901-1960, 1939-05-27
SHORT SHORT
STORY
Complete in This Issue

fessor loved nobody but himself, and
his passion for that self would not
permit the transference of even a
minor portion of affection upon any
one else.
For many years he had been the
professor of chemistry at a great
school in the Middle West, and so
influential had been his teachings
that the school was honorably proud
of a long list of noted scientists
upon it's alumni roll. And now the
stock shares in several little thriv-
ing drug stores and made a neat
living out of his earnings. Natural
ly conservative, he did not spend
much, as most men did, but re-
served his spare dollars for his only
passion Excepting himself) that of
collecting rare old bits of antique
jade.
And in Mrs. Goodell he had found
a sympathetic listener. He would
talk on for hours in his soft, intel
lectual classroom" murmur, ex-
planning the history of each little
trinket. Occasionally she would hold
up a bit of especially colorful jade
to her ears, and smile at the refec-
ton of the tawny hair fringing the
amazing green of the ornament.
And occasionally Mrs. Goodeu
would laugh comfortably over the
whims of an old man, for the profess
sor was fifty-one and she but twen-
ty-six. Or she would disturb him
with a flashing, eloquent glance
from her merry hazel eyes.
At such times the professor would
stamp to his room.
Today, the professor had strug-
gled all the morning attempting to
achieve 'darkly saturnine" smile.
He hoped to annihilate his jibers
with that look. He had read of it
in current magazine of worth, and
he hoped to get practiced up on it
so that he might squelch that friv-
olous Miss Bascomb, who taught
French to the junior high students.
And the result had been ridicule.
1t was too much. It was more
that mortal man could stand. He
would leave. He would return to
the hills of his native New Hamp-
shire and spend the rest of his days
in peace and quiet away from this
horde of gibbering females.
The effrontery of it! Miss Bas-
comb had said: pain in your old
tum-tum, prof?" when he'd tried
to smother the exuberance of the
lively Miss Jennison with "a darkly
saturnine" smile.
Mrs. Goodell smiled knowing
little smile, suggesting: "The pro-
fessor is returning to his native
heath, the better to be a real lion in
little jungle-instead of vice YER
sal"
"Oh, now, professor! That's too
bad. What will you do with all those
lovely little pieces of green glass
with nobody to show 'em to-" con-
tinued the irrepressible Miss Jen-
niSon.
81 fancy my jade will be appre-
ciated as well - elsewhere!" re-
marked the professor, stifly.
swell, you know-each to his own
kind!" laughed Miss Bascomb, and
not until he was on the train did
he comprehend the significance of
her remark and then it brought a
deep red flush to his soft, heavy
pink cheeks. "Jade-to-jade!" he
muttered, and stared out over the
fiat prairie with new bitterness in
his heart.
Back on Wilson boulevard, Mrs.
Goodell and her merry family
made merrier than ever, their Jolly
wits flashing with keened edges at
one another. Only Mrs. Goodell
remarked slowly, as she moved the
professors chair back to the wall
and moved the other places near
err: "Poor dear. So deluded!"
And unknown to Mrs. Goodell.
Professor Rand was ruthlessly de-
stroying the tiny green shoot of
what might have bloomed into love,
had not he fled so hastily, for he
knew at last, now that he'd burned
his bridges, that he might have
learned to like little Mrs. Marie
Goodell great deal more than he
liked his jade-and himself.