T H E TORCH OF REASON, S IL V E R T O N , OREGON, T H U R SD A Y , MAY 20, 1897
GOLDEN THRONE
[ a ROMANCE BY SAMUEL p. PUTNAM.]
“ Moreover, one does want to obey
his conscience now and then; and
th a t’s a bother to a thorough-going
politician. So, G rubbins, I don’t
envy you, though you m arch into
the W hite House. Pilkins, Judge
Pilkins, I hope you’ll keep the
place. All you have to do is to sit
down on the law-breaker, and he
will succumb. Tim, 1 want a little
of your best old rye before I go. It
will rem ind me of Gooch, who, as
you remember, was very fond of
th a t article. Jennie, be good to
yourself; and the rest of you, fare­
well.”
“ C harlie is my spokesm an, I jo in
in,” said Bill.
“ Of course, you’ll come back
again,” said Pilkins. “ Golden
T hrone will be the hub of the u n i­
verse. 1 shall issue my new paper,
The Golden Eagle, next week.
W e’ll have a railroad next year,
and a big hotel. You won’t know
the place when you re tu rn .”
C harlie was full of hope as he
set his face toward the great city.
He had worked with steady purpose
fo i the last few m onths, and now
he had accum ulated w hat m ight be
term ed a small fortune. H is de­
term ination was to rem ain in the
city. He was still haunted by the
lovely face of the unknown woman.
He wanted to find her; and he
m eant to, if she was anyw here in
San Francisco.
W ill B urnham was full of the
same adventurous and restless
spirit. He was also desirous of a
change. He wished to see more of
the great world, and try his luck in
th e crowded thoroughfare. He had
for the present experienced enough
of solitude. He wanted now to
plunge into life.
Paddie John leaped out of his
chair alm ost as they clattered into
his sanctum sanctorum , where he
was busily engaged 1n w riting.
“ Come for good? H urrah! I ’ve
been homesick for you. I’m on
th e rack all the time, work day
and night, can’t stop. I sometimes
th in k I’ll b e a pauper again, and
loaf and dream and m editate.
T his tussle don’t give me any
chance to be a philosopher.”
“ You grow fat on it, at any rate,”
said W ill: “ you are as round and
rosy as a bishop.”
“ Oh, yes! it agrees with me
carnally speaking,” said Paddie,
‘ and so I can stand it. 1 eat a
porter-house steak every day, and
spend a couple of hours digesting
it with a bottle of wine. If I d id n ’t
do th at, I should certainly die.”
“ W hat do you do, anyw ay,” said
C harlie.
“ I w rite the London and Paris
and New York correspondence, and
review all the books, no m atter in
w hat language they are w ritten,
and the less I know of them the
better. I criticise to suit the
public; and I study the public, not I went under. Good enough for them . So, if I had a love, it seems
the book. I write the news of the me! I was a fool. We are noth­ to me th at it would ever grow
day, tell what is going on in m atters ing but flies. T he spiders spread dearer. I could not change it for
of science, and announce every new their nets, and we tum ble in. a new.”
“ Love,” said W ill, “dwells both
discovery. I keep people informed H ere’s my wife, Polly. She's going
of the movem ents of society, post to take care of the cash after this. in the new and old; and the old is
as fresh as the new. Do we not
them in the latest fashion, and I’m going to stick to w ork.”
Polly was a sm art little woman, live in the past a s much as we do
describe every new dress th a t is
worn. I write articles on history, no m istake. She kept th e house in the present, even as the tree
painting, sculpture, sociology, bi­ as neat as a pin. She could talk lives not in the sky, but in the
ology, physiology, ami psychology, well, and was full of fun. She earth? He is not a man who does
as they are dem anded. Luckily, loved Big Dick, and he fairly wor­ not live over and over again the
people don’t want to know a n y ­ shiped her. She had the better precious m om ents th a t have fled,
thing about theology, so I let that head of the two, and it was but am i take th eir sweetness as if they
were im m ortal.”
natural th a t she should rule.
alone.”
“ We must live our n atu re,” said
The m om ents Hew by while the
“ How do you find tim e for all
com pany talked of m any an excit­ Paddie. “ I like to fly, to roam
th is?”
over new lands. I ca n ’t be bound.”
“ I don’t know. It has to be ing adventure.
“ Nor I except by my own
“ By the way,” said Charlie,
done, I do it, and th a t’s the end of
said Charlie.
“ But
it. If an editor doen’t know every­ “ have you seen anything of little th o u g h ts,”
w hat’s the use? I c a n ’t evoke this
Pete?”
thing, he m ust give up.”
“ No, I haven’t,” said Big Dick. lady bv any magic, as she has, n<»
“ I should th in k you’d be a
“ Nor I,” said Paddie.
“ I ’ve doubt forgotten me. I presume it
ghost.”
“On the contrary, the only way looked for him , but never came would be wise to forget her; but,
to acquire universal know’ledge is to across him. I wonder if he’s v a n ­ alas! Inn image is as bright as on
be fat, and there is no subject th a t ished like a shadow, as he seemed the evening th a t I first glanced at
her, and when she alm ost sm iled
I am not at hom e with. By the to be.”
“ I m ust find him. He has an upon me, as I thought. Good-by
way, did you know’ th a t Jim m y
was in the city, or, to speak mure uncle in the city,” said Charlie. for a spell, boys. I m ust h u n t up
respectfully, the Rev. Jam es Demor­ “ He had som ething in him , after little Pete this evening. I hope no
! ill has happened to him .”
all.”
est?”
C harlie sauntered forth into the
“ I couldn’t m ake him out,” said
“ Is it possible?”
b rillian tly
lighted
city.
The
“ Yes, and he’s the most popular Dick; “ he was queer.”
“ We all of us would be queer, if strange and wonderful panoram a of
m inister in the city. He draw s
crowds. I go to hear him, and we were placed in certain circum ­ its life passed b e fo re him — so many
report him now’ and then. He does stances,” said Charlie. “ Our su r­ happy, so m any wofui faces. He
it up in style, I assure you- He roundings help to make us decent was not in a very hopeful mood.
preaches right to the heart. He and agreeable. L ittle Pete w asn’t He was pressed upon by the infinite
makes ’em weep and sometimes where he belonged. Put him in the m ystery of our hum an existence,
laugh; and sometimes they alm ost right place, and we m ight be su r­ by th a t deepest m ystery of all, the
m ystery of love. W hy did he care
applaud, he’s so eloquent. You prised a t the change.”
C harlie spent the next day in so passionately for this woman
m ust see him .”
“ Perhaps be w on't w ant to see search of his fanciful love. He th a t had flashed but for an in stan t
roamed through alm ost every street in his life? He could not banish
us, now th at he’s respectable.”
“ Yes, he will. H e’s an honest and gazed at every passing counte­ her image. It was with him a l­
fellow, and don’t put on airs. I nance; but he did not see the wom­ ways, and touched him a m arv el­
ous reminiscence, like some strain
don’t understand how he can an of his dream s.
“ I m ight as well search for a of m usic th a t we th in k we have
preach the nonsense he does; but
th a t’s his business, not mine. H e’s bubble in the ocean,” said Charlie. heard for the first time; and yet it
a man, anyw ay; and he has the “ She has flashed away into the vibrates through all the cham bers
loveliest wife in the world. She’s great deep, and I shall not see her of the memory like a fam iliar
sound, and evokes m any a forgotten
again.”
a gem of a w om an.”
“Such is life,” said Paddie, “ and dream ’, as if it and the dream
“ We m ust see him , sure. And
we are fools to b o th er about w hat were mingled in their birth, both
how’s Big Dick?”
bursting in the same h ap p y
“ Come along and call with me. is past.”
“ I suppose you were never in m om ent of the long ago.
I promised to go dow n there this
Charlie had a certain ideality in
evening. H»*’s doing splendidly in love,” said Charlie.
“Oh, yes, a thousand limes. I his disposition, and his scepticism
the tire departm ent. He’s the boss
hero, isn’t afraid of anything. love a pretty face as well as I love was, to a certain extent, the result,
H e’s m arried too, and to the lb tle st the stars and the sea and the flow­ of his ideality; for his ideality brok»*
bit of a woman; but she’s spunky. ers, But I d o n ’t linger over one in m any waves of dissapointm ent
She’s cute about it though, always flower. Why should I, when there upon the rugged masses of real life,
sm iling and sweet; but she never as m illions in the world? I ’m a l­ and fell back upon his heart with
backs down.
ways in love, but not with the sam e desolate reaction. H e could not
In a few m om ents, they were in face. Today it’s a blonde, to- square his bright idealism with the
morrow its a brunette. Now it’s a world th a t was around about him.
the nice, cosy home of Big Dick.
“ Why, pardners, how are you?” blue eye, and then a black eye, and His early train in g had tended to
he cried. “J u s t from the m ines? then a m elancholy gray. Now j disenchant the outw ard world,
All right, I hope. I heard good adm ire a fragile, delica’e form, m aking it still more gloomy; and
news from your way. Lots of then I like a buxom lass. So the thus the discordance was far
waves come and go, and the lights bitterer. Still, in any circum stances
gold ”
“ E nough,” said
C harlie, to change, and the new continually a t­ the most favorable, it is painful to
speculate with. By the way, w hat tracts.”
surrender the ideal as we have it
«lid you do w ith the thousand I
“ T h at may suit you, but it in our soul, and harmonize it with
sent you? You said you were go­ doesn’t me,” said C harlie. “ I like the law and the facts about us,
ing to try your luck on ‘change.’”
the old as 1 like an old song th at, finding eventually in these laws
“I
did
and
lost
every lieing sung a thousand times, is and facts a finer
ideal than
cent,” said Big Dick. I expected a precious to my m em ory. So old we had ever dream ed of. C harlie,
tu rn , and we all expected a tu rn ;' I friends grow sweet as day by day through his hard and terrible ex­
but it cam e th e other wav, and so new associations d u s te r about periences, had come to this wise