THE COURIER
f.
STORIES IN PASSING.
Be is rather tall and slim. H still
wears a pompadour which with hia
glasses givea him a fierce aspect quite
effective in tho cIbeb room in getting
much outof the students, bnt not at all
true to his nature.
Outside the class room be is the mot
companionable of men. There is a great
deal of the boy about him (which is an
uncommon thing in a university profes
sor), he alwajs hastha best tobacco with
him and he can wheel farther pnd tell
more ttorioa than any man on the facul
ty. He relegates such things, however, to
the afternoon. His program is
classes iu the morning, recreation in the
afternoon, study in the evening.
He says, "In my intellectual forest
there 3 alwajs some new tree to cut
down," and it takes him three houis
every night to do it.
And therein lies his success.
bulged out like roasted chestnuts. My
hair was dropping out. My brain was
on fire, still I wa9 dry as toast not a
drop of prespiratton.
All at once the pinnacle gave way in a
huge fiatne. Like white bo's iron. I
dropped through the licking, sputtering
fire plump lot) a lake of melted ice.
The chill awoke me. I wbb as cold as
snow, wringing wet with prespiration.
1 began to livesgnin.
About the university they tell this
story of Prof. Caldwell, of the Ameiican
history department, and Prof. Fling of
the European history department. It
Wks during laEt summer, immediately
altar school was out in June, when the
excitsmentot the campaign was growing
warm. Pror. Caldwell is a westerner,
Prof. Fliog spent hiB early yeai sin the
east, and this lesidence influenced more
or less their political views. One day in
tha executive office the two fell into a
big discuEsion over the issue, and both
being great sticklers on the sources de
cided to settle the matter on historical
grounds. So together for two months
they pored over everything relating to
money since the time of Solomon. After
they had waded through the last volume
on a hot August afternoon they leaned
back in their chairs, wiping their necks
and brows.
"Well," asked he of American history,
"what do you think?'
"More fully convinced than ever,"
was the reply of the head of the Euro
pean history department, ' that the sil
ver standard would be a terrible disaster
to this country."
"And J," said the other, ' that it would
be of infinite benefit to the present sit
uation." And there the matter rested.
I had a dream once that was not all a
dream. 1 remember it distinctly. It
was the lust day of the fever. The next
twenty-four hours, the doctor said,
would deciJa for ms. Eithsrthe fever
would break, or slide over the 109 degree
notch and lift me into eternity.
Of course, the doctor didn't put it
that way. But it was enough to set me
thinking a loDg thus. Then I went to
sleep and began to dream a dream I
could make neither head nor tale of.
Everything was muddled up in it the
room, my parents, the doctor, and finally
the devil. After the latter's appearance
the dream began to shapa itself, the
rest faded away, all but the devil who
climbed up on the bed-rail, grinning at
me as if overjoyed to be there.
Then change number two was rung.
The principal actors still remained, the
devil and I. The scene was hell. At
east that must have been the place.
We were on a pinnacle of celluloid. On
other points sat scores of little devils,
grinning and chattering like monkeys.
I was watching them and failed to
notice a huge fire below. But the heat
drew my eyes down to it. That fire
grew. It sprang upward, eating the
celluloid at every leap. It was half way
up the pinnacle in a second. In another
it was at my feet. Though the agony
was something terrible, I was fascinated.
I could not move. I could not cry out.
It licked about my feet It scorched
iuy shins. My chest was caving in. My
cheeks were cooked. My eye-balls
Five hundred dollars for a story
what an offer! The young man read it
and all day racked his brain for a plot.
A dczsn came to mind but none were
worth tho price. It was still troubling
him when he went to sleep that night.
In his sleep ho dreamed a story -his
story, the greatest story in the world.
It acted itself out before him like a play.
Plot, characters, incidents were marked
out in every detail. It was a tale of
the horsemen in America, a story of
brave deeds and perilous adventures. It
held h;iu spell bound and enchanted
even in his eleep. And during all he
knew that it was his etory. In the
morning he would write it down at one
Bitting. Even in his Fleep he could have
hugged himself from delight at his
fortune.
It was a dream, indeed, with awaken
ing, everything had 'flown. Not on 6
character, cne scene of the story came
to him, and t j this day that old Norse
tale remains unwritten, locked in the
fancy of the dream elvea.
do-standing, with tbo same silent,
shadowy feelings the three would shake
hands and separate without a word.
She'was pretty enough, with her dark
hair and eycB and full, tecBt!ve mouth,
but she had all the beauty for the
family as I found out to my 6orrow. She
did sketch work and was showing me
ec me of her pen portrait'.
''What a homely face," 1 said, picking
up one Bketcb, "that mouth anJ those
Ivg. coarse cheeks, and what a nose! It's
positively the most unattractive faco I
ever By. What interest could jou ever
have in drawirg such un unbeautiful
woman."
She colored slightly but like a fool 1
did not notice and went on.
"A woman cs homely as that should
be kept out of sight. Such r loop,
scrawny neck I never enw. Who is she
anyway?"
"Why wbj" ehe began .hesitatingly.
But just lien herelder sister entered tho
room i nd I was presented to her. And
then I enw tco clearly that man should
keep his opinion of woman's beauty to
himeelf, saw all too clearly tho t eculiar
interest my fairjoung friend bad iu
drafting that portrait.
Three years dgo a young man waiting
between trains was sitting in the pretty
little city park of Cheyenne, just oppo
site the state capitol building. Sudden
ly hiB attention was attracted. A girl
in a blue serge suit and white parasol was
coming across the lawn. Of course he
watched her and there was just the
faintest smile on her lips as their eyes
met.
Of a sudden a twitch of pain robbed
her face of its mirth and she went down
to the ground in a heap. The young
man helped her up and to the capitol,
where her father had his office. Her
eyes were laughing even with the pain.
The distance was but two block", but it
took the two a long tima to make it, a'l
on account of the spained ankle, of
course. At any rate it took them a long
while, and when they reached the top
of the outer steps, the young man's
train was coming and he had to cut for
it.
He took her hand and without a word
pressed it gently and ran straight down
the middle of the road for tho station.
At the foot of the station street he
looked back. She was etill on the steps
leaning against a column for support.
She waved her parasol at him and he
answered with his bat. Then he board- (
ed the train with a strange feeling in bis I
heart.
That waB three years ago. Today
they came back from Cheyenne together
and there were jutt a few grain? of rice
falling from -them ss they left the cars.
Three of the fatte t friends in the
world were the humorists, Bill Nye,
Eugene Field and James Whitcomb
Riley. They were all alike in many
points of character. Ihey all loved
children passionately. They were allot!
their wits a l.ttle men who would
either write poetry or go in3ane as fate
should decide. And there was the
same morbid undercurrent in their na
tures, which drew them to each other.
This morbidness took a strange turn.
The three were wont to visit together
as often as possible. In their lecture
tours they constantly tried to make a
Sunday meeting. Then after several
hours of wit atd pleasant reminiscence
they alwajs ended their evening by
going down to the morgue and looking
for a few moments at the dead.
Then with the same mysterious un-
A neighbor's boy went out into the
country tho other day for tbo first
time. It was to his unclo's farm four
miles from torn n. During tho day ha
busied himself hunting eggs, feeding
chickens nnd watching tho man culti
vating the ten? rows of green just peep
ing from the earth. By evenirg ho was
tired out, ntd after an elnl orate supper
of bum, rggp, warm biscuit ana itraw
beriies wi'h the tLickest cream, he
went to bed. He dozed etf Lut could
not b!cij well. In nn Lour hu awrke
with tint feeling cf tl.o etrargeneisof a
new plice. He misted his Lrcther. And
Ihi n eveiy tbir g was eo i t II outside no
itreet in rs clanging or liurgits rattling
by on tbo piv. meLt. Tho ccld clear
moonlight came through the window
and threw tho large, bare rcotu into
ghostly lights and sbadotts. For the
first time ho heard u whippour will, and it
frightened him. Away down by the
creek the frojs croaked mournfully. Off
among the bills a dog berked dismally.
The boy found himself toLliirg to him
self; be knew not why. And thus he
spent tho rfeht. As Eocn as daylight
appeared, befoie even tho earliest man
had arisen, he crept down the stairs,
without even waiting for breakfast and
walked the four tulles home.
II. G.SHEDD.
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