The Oregon daily journal., December 21, 1913, Page 61, Image 61

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THE OREGON SUNDAY . JOURNAL, ; PORTLAND, " SUNDAY, MORNING, DECEMBER 21, 1913.
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"Bobbie on his knees sent up his petition"
H Christmas Stots of tbe JSotfsb fluilUonaire Mb.o Mas 6oob to
tbc little Weeks anb Ibow iHe IRaibeb tbe Zov Shops
THE day wu the twenty-fourth of the month, and
the month was the month of December. How
ever, let me begin with the block-a, city block
on New York's East Side.
Should you for any reason walk around this block,
you will find that the Bowery Bide offers the usual
rank of second-rate stores, foul grog-sHops, and penny-In-the-slot
establishments, with a bank on one corner
walled and buttressed and barred this bank like unto
any citadel. The .other three sides show unbroken fronts
of dwelling houses, which were rich and tremendously
Impressive one hundred years ago when they were built.
The only curious thing and I mention It simply be
cause It Is curious Is an entrance between the two mid
dle houses on the Second avenue side, just wide enough
to permit a hearse to squeeze through without scratching
the house walla with Us hubs.
That Is all you would see were you to circle the block,
but should you prevail on the sexton to open the locked
Iron gates and he couldn't be expected to do this under
a dollar and enter by the hearse way, you will find
yourself in an ancient burylng-ground, tucked away in
tbe heart of the block.
The windows of the little Weeks overlooked It,
and both Bobble and baby Paul had found the prospect
very pleasant during the summer months when the
green was on the ground. On our twenty-fourth of
December there was no green, the same having been
whltely obliterated by the falling snow, which was
coming down In flakes as big and soft and clinging as
a baby's hand.
The three lUtle Weeks were all alone In the world.
Their father had been gone these three years; and, since
the ship he sailed in as second officer went down with all
on board, somewhere off the Horn, the general Impres
. s!on that he was sound asleep at the bottom of the
Couth Atlantic had muck to sustain it This view was
certainly entertained by Mrs. Week, who herself per
ished of a pneumonia the April before the Christmas In
present hand, and was buried somehow. The little
Weeks lived on the second floor of the house. They
had the two rear rooms, one small, the other smaller,
the windows presenting that graveyard glimpse already
chronicled. Miss Clancy, who made flowers out of col
ored paper and was very young and plump and pretty,
was at home In the front room, second floor, and the
alcove over the front hall. The third and only remain
ing floors-all of It belonged to the fiddle-making, flddie
mendlng, fiddle-playing Herr Bernstein, who in fact
leased the whole house and sublet to the others, and
from whose aerie there occasionally floated down ener
getlo odors, born of garlic and cheese and fish and onions,
as he went about his solitary cookery.
A, Herr Bernstein, bitter poor like all the others, dwelt
. ku u. iivi wcau, turn smiiea I or
himself In things domestic. He washed and swept and
scrubbed and cooked and mended, and the only help he
asked or had came from a professional fire-lighter, who
appeared at I o'clock every Saturday morning, to set
a match to Herr Bernstein's kindling, for which service
, he received 6 cents. Herr Bernstein was extremely
pious and orthodox, as you might have known by the
little locks of hair which jutted out Just forward of each
ear, and the praying shawl so much about his neck.
Policeman McCue did not live in the, hpuse; he walked
the street in front, and, when he didn't sleep in hla
precincT station, found a bed at his mother'a in East
Broadway.
Mr. Van .Brent, our remaining character, so far from
dwelling in the house, had never so much as heard of it,
and owned a huge gray-stone mansion. Central Park
East, where he transacted existence In a lofty, weary way
of extreme fashion and cynicism. Many mothers, mind
ful of .the young gentleman's millions and mansion and
Johelyslnglo dtate, bad sought to marry-their daughters
to Mr. Van Brent. He was still a bachelor, however;
ror was It not written that It is vain for the fowler to
spread his net in the sight of any bird?
After Mrs. Week died, the little Weeks had shifted
for themselves. That is to say, Jack became the bread
winner, going forth night and morning to sell papers,
run errands, or' do whatsoever else should fall taakwlse
into his young hand, bringing home an average of bQ
cent a day and once or twice a dollar. Bobble re
mained at home to look after baby Paul, who for his
cage part took life easily and confidently, as became his
perfect health and want of years.
The small Weeks were living in their two rear rooms
when their mother passed away, and since Herr Bern
stein, with a forgetfulness that 111 became his age and
race, had never once asked for his rent, they naturally
remained. They did very well, too; for pretty Miss
, Clancy looked often in to sweep and dust-and set things
to rights, and see to It that the young Weeks didn't slip
back into savagery for want of buttons, and water from
the hall faucet wherewith, to wash their, hands and faces.
Also, Herr Bernstein paid them an occasional visit.
Herr Bernstein, gnarly, wrinkled, had black beady eyes,
a nose ferociously curved, grlzsled hair and beard, and in
the beginning the Week children were afraid, of him.
Ills voice was harsh, rasping, mandatory, and his
' English hot to be understood. But, Inasmuch as a two-bit
piece always remained where he had rested his hand on
the table, and he had once, when It stormed very hard
and rattled the windows In an alarming manner, brought
- the three little Weeks up to bis own apartments, along -
with Miss Clancy, who was aa badly frightened as were
the little Weeks,: and proceeded to revive the spirits of ,
Ms company by a private and exquisitely sweet perform-'
. ance on the cello, they in time struck up quite a friend
j?!, ship with Wm.'.;:'':, V'!' V ',".''."
The Weeks got along famously, as I 'have said, being "
, as healthy a trio-of brats aa one mlgttt And In a long ,
day s search, and It was not until Jack, the breaa
winner, sprained his foot in Jumping off a Third avenue
"car that they could be said to have fallen upon bad ,
days. This catastrophe had overtaken the Weeks just .
before they were granted .th honor of an Introduction ,
to you and Its first effect was to ut off' the Week
' Income For Jack's, foot swelled to a size that scoffed at
Tsfjbei, and put going : "abroad about . hla trade of soiling
rin.neri bevorld an arrument. . .
It Isn't time, but responsibility, .that ripens one and
. breeds a wisdom. Being called to the head of the house
ef Week, Jack, In the teeth of hla tan years, developed a
gravity and forethoughtfulness that would have adorned
a grown-up. Feeling, therefore, the family load, his
Injured foot, and the consequent suspension of his labors,
gave Jack great concern. Not that starvation waa
threatened; both baker and milkman, following a private
conference with Herr Bernstein called by that virtuoso,
had sent voluntary word that they would "trust."
But how about Christmas, and what gifts should go
with and grace the day? Jack was Inclined to take the
latter subject to heart, and be troubled thereby. Baby
Paul looked forward to the festival as a matter of
Instinct, and Bobble did the same as tbe hopeful offshoot
of instinct, added to an experience which covered twu
Chrlstmases. Bobbie had a clear memory of those two
Chrlstmases, each celebrated by a turkey and sundry
gifts entranclngly gaudy.
Also, both children had been told the marvelous story
of Kris Krlngle; and, implicitly believing the same, they
nursed an unshaken faith in a coming Christmas opu
lence. Indeed, the very snow gave aid to their antici
pations. It being pointed out by Bobble, who discussed
the business with baby Paul, that the roofs would be In
prime condition to afford Kris Krlngle and his reindeer
team every possible sleighing facility.
This Kris Krlngle talk between Bobble and baby
Paul took place just after Miss Clancy had looked in to
trim the one Week evening lamp. The two hearable
church bells were ringing "6 o'clock" at the time. Tbe
sleigh and reindeer views of Bobbie and baby Paul ren
dered Jack, as bead of the household, quite desperate.
Under the circumstances he summoned heart, and
resolved to make an explanation. It was bad of course
to be obliged to explain, but it was better than bald,
daybreak disappointment next morning. Bobble and
baby Paul were even then settling where their stockings
ought to hang; to best attract the relndeered one's
attention.
Bobble In particular deemed this question of stocking
location extremely important. "For," as he well said,
"Santa Claus will have so much to do, and so many boys
to look after, that he can't stay any place very long, and
we had better fix our stockings so as to save him all the
trouble we can." - - ......
It was this stocking earnestness, mounting to en
thusiasm, that decided Jack to speak fully out. The word
was fairly In his mouth, when he halted. No, he couldn't
lay bare to baby Paul the emptiness of that Kris Krlngle
myth; baby Paul was too young. The power to believe
comes early, while it takes years to give us strength
enouffh to disbelieve.
After baby Paul had been filed away in a kind of
truckle bed, like a small human document in Its proper
pigeonhole, and Jack and Bobble who slept together-
found themselves safe beneath their own blankets, Jaek
began softly and cautiously to let in the light concerning
- Christmas, and the sure barrenness of the coming morn
ing, upon the darkened Bobble.
Jack, now the ice was broken, gave Bobble his
honor, as the head of the house of Week, that nothing
of truth abode in Kris Krlngle and his sleigh loaded
with gifts. He said that poverty, born of his sprained
foot and a consequent monetary Inability to buy pres
ents, obliged him to confess as much. He told these
things to Bobble, since he . could rely up6n that Iron
manhood which belonged with Bobble's great age of
8 to support the truth.
"But what worries me is baby Paul," concluded Jack.
In real distress. "He's too little to see that Santa Claus
is only a joke, an' I ain't got so much as a nickel to
get him anything."
Bobble lay silently thinking. At last he whispered;
"Jack, all mother told us wasn't a Joke, was It? Wat
she said about prayln', an', heaven answerln' your
prayers, was true?"
"Sural" said Jack; "w'at mother told us about prayin'
is all right But we have prayed."
"That was only a 'Now-I-lay-me' prayer," returned
Bobble, as he began scrambling out of bed. "I'm goln'
to pray for Christmas presents. I won't say anything
about Santa Claus," he continued, reflecting that it
might be the part of sagacity to avoid overloading his
orisons with a drift of detail as to whom and how; "I'll
just pray for some presents for baby Paul, and stop."
I shall not write down what Bobbie said, nor the
manner of that saying. The truth Is, and I may as
well make a clean breast of it, I couldn't do It if 1
tried. Such work asks the gentle genius of a Goldsmith
or a Lamb, and I'm muob too lamely stilted, too much
lacking in sentiment and a softness of touch, to even
approach the task. What I will say, however, is that
Just as Bobble pronounced "Amen!" the bells went boom
ing 8 o'clock S o'clock!
The snow, which is old-fashioned In Its ' Impulses,
caring nothing for regions or riches, was falling in Fifth
avenue with the same silent white Inveteracy thai
marked its downcome in the burylng-ground out back of
the little Weeks' rear rooms. Mr. George Van Brent,
dallying with his after-dinner creme-de-menthe and gas
lng idly out of one of Delmonlco's front windows, found
In tho snow's steady falling something restful to the
Imagination. Up and down outside went sleighs, with
arched bows of Jingling bells, plumes in the horses'
tossing headstalls and In the splashboards of the
sleighs; for plumes and bows of bells are Russian, and
our smart set, which Is ever Russian or English or
French or something else only so it Isn't American and
therefore vulgar had decided that in Its sleighing it
would copy Petersburg. .
Over across, silken ladles were rustling In and out
Of Sherry's,!Vhile precise gentlemen In evening clotKes
danced polite attendance on them. Mn Van Brent had
been familiar with this-sort of thing since ever he owned
a memory. He djdn't hear the bells; he failed to mark
the silken women, 'being more interested in the snow,
pure and white and clean and ever new. . "
As Mri Van Brent sat pinching the slim stem of his
glass, and puffing occasional cigar smoke, he was weary
to tlii'edge of despair. . ...
vvurn, inw wunu uui miu wwipiy. wiliiuui con-
. ,In later years Mr. Van
- Brent declared that he had
..never, been able, to solve
what follows or I give the
reason of It It was the
more mysterious, he was at
pains to make clear, since
every syllable was alien to
his experience, his educa
tion, and his heart This
Is what so baffled the pow
ers of Mr. Van Brent
Mr. Van Brent tossed a
dollar on the table, as a tip
to the waiter, and lounged
slowly into the Delmonlco
hall. He sought his hat and
coat Having tipped the lad
in charge for tips were as
April raindrops in the
hand of Mr. Van Brent he
: stood presently in the Forty-fourth
street entrance
of the establishment, array
ed for the street and de
bating what he should do
next Should It be his pet
club, the Union, and a
game of bridge?
There was the hum of
many laughing voices. Over
and under and through the
happy buss trickled the
slrupy strains of the or
chestra. It was, so Mr.
Van Brent said, as though
he waited for orders. Per
haps it was the clangorous
proclamation of the church
bells, further up the ave
nue, for which he waltea.
Louder than the happy
buzz, louder, much louder,
than the suave wheedling
music of tho uicliusua, it came booming out upon the
night: One! two! three! four! Ave! six! seven! elghtl
Eight o'clock.
Whence arose the Impulse? Mr. Van Brent ever
professed ignorance. The one thing sure is that, with
the final clang of "eight" he walked back into the cafe.
Going to the desk, he called the manager.
"Gamier." said he, "let me have a thousand."
Mr. Van Brent did not carry money. Millionaires
never do; It is one of their caste marks. Mr. Van Brent
went up and down the face of nature, and when he
wanted gold he wheeled Into the nearest door and de
manded It And he always got It.
Thrusting the roll of bills into an Inside pocket. Mr.
Van Brent summoned one of those Russian sleighs
with Its plumes, its bells and Its billowy robes. Throw
ing himself into the high-backed rear seat, where his
glances could command the world, Mr. Van Brent began
to give directions. This was the route his fancy took
took It with no more of hesitation than the carrler-plgeott
hand, had sent the tipsy rough to Roosevelt Hospital,
like an officer and a gentleman. J
BeguuUog- thus- violently. ---Ue" -Clancy-McCue C--acquaintance
broadened apace. In two weeks Miss Clancy
and Officer McCue wdke warm friends; In three she had
called upon bis mother in East Broadway; In four they
adored each other and were lovers engaged such being
the rapid habit of the East Side In these tender affairs:
Officer McCue, to the scandal, of all police regulations,
had just tossed a furtive but heartfelt kiss at Miss
Clancy's unseeing blinds, when he was hailed by the
bearskin driver and Mr. Van Brent Officer McCue,
shoulders squared like the foreyard of a brig, came
forward, twirling his club professionally.
Mr. Van Brent, for once in his life, found himself In
verbal difficulty; be didn't know how to berin. At last
he suid;
"Officer, my name Is Van Brent."
"Are you the man who established the Van Brent
medal? I've got one," touching his hat
'That was my father."
"Shake! I'm proud to meet the son;" and Officer
McCue extended his hand.
Mr. Van Brent, as his father's representative, too It
tlie outstretched hand, and was impressed by the steady,
manly, steel-like grip. The handshake seemed to clear
away the verbal obstructions.
"It's this,", salfl Mr. Van Brent "I was thinking
that for the lark of the thing, don't you know, I'd ask
if you knew of any poor family who'd be the better
for a little Christmas cheer? somebody that's sick or
helpless or out of work and money, and not able to
mo-et Christmas in the way he or she would like? The
fact is, office:-," continued Mr. Van Brent confidentially
"I want to make some one a Christmas present; and i
don't know a soul on earth to whom a gift would bring
a glint of joy. I thought that perhaps you, walking
about in your duty, might be able to help me."
It was as' well that Van Brent's opening speech
was long, since it gave time for Officer McCue's earlier
conviction that he was drunk to wear away.'
"This rich sport is mebbe doln' it on a bet." thought
Officer McCue tolerantly, for he himself was a sporting
soul in a moderate way. Then he continued aloud:
"There's .three kids boys who live in this very house.
They're orphans, and haven't got a splinter. Oldest is
10. They're up ag'lnst it, too, and I should say a gltt
or so right now would be th' hit of their lives."
"The very people!'' quoth Mr. Van Brent Then
ensued doubt and hesitation. "In what manner might
his ChrlBtmas philanthropy best lay siege to those kids?"
Officer McCue reflected, head all on one side, like a
crow looking Into a Jug. Then he made a snowball, and
hurled It, not without a certain caressing softness, in
capable of description, against the virgin pane of Miss
Clancy. There were no delays; Miss Clancy's pretty
nose had been close to the window for ten minutes, and
the official snowball no more than landed than up went
the sash and out popped the curly head.
"Stir up old Bernstein, Anna, and tell him to come
down."
Miss Clancy withdrew her head, and Officer McCue
turned to Mr. Van Brent
-Herr Bernstein proceeded to revive the spirits of his company"
vlotlon, wanting in belief, Mr. Van Brent at 37 could
betrays In 1U swift-darting home flight: Down Fifth
avenue to Washington square; through the quai
Fourth street, and across to tbe Bowery; south along
the Bowery to Third street; and then east on Thlru
street at a walk.
The driver in his bearskin cast a tentative glance
over his shoulder at Mr. Van Brent among the robes.
Where next, sir?" .
"Call the first policeman' said Mr. Van Brent.
. Now tbe first policeman was none other than Officer
McCue, pride of the precinct, flower of -the-force. He
was, swinging Idly along In his slow ofliclal manner, with
an eye cocked affectionately upward, at two liahted
second-story .. windows the chaste . windows . Of, - Miss
think of nothing he deHred. to ' have, no one he'd like to..-.. Clancy, who was his heart's Jdol...,,,
see.' That Is the great drawback to wealth without
' fence. Having everything, you can want nothing; and.
-.without want where should be the Joy of- getting? Only
' those who have burned with thirst know the cool swset-
. mm of -water. . ,
ri'-r-y C'V':'V;j v,'-.
Officer McCue's acquaintance wHh ' Miss 'Clancy ' had
covered the warm space of six months. . Their mutual
Introduction' was -characteristic of a day and place. A
tipsy ' rough all - unbidden, had spoken gayly to Miss "
Clancy a the street Policeman McCue, being near a
"Smart old Bernstein Is; Solomon was a fool to him.
It you don't mind, i ll give you over, to him. He'll steer
you through; he knows them kids, and what they need.'
"Their name Is Week," said Officer McCue, as Herr
Bernstein, wrapped up as though for Siberia, came
coughing and shuttling out Into the snow; "the kids, 1
mean. This is Bernstein."
Ten minutes were devoted to explanations on the side
of Mr. Van Brent and .Officer McCue,. and understanding
tnem on the part of Herr Bernstein. Then Herr Bern-.
stein climbed into the billowy robe-filled sleigh with
Mr. Van Brent and the pair drove away. Officer McCue
waved them "Good fortune!" and then, pausing only
to throw a second kiss toward Miss Clancy's casement,
which this time harbored her pretty face,, resumed the
round of duty. .
' Herr Bernstein proved beyond a Value. . He could .
number every Week deficiency of personal or household
kind. He' knew the clothing that would, fit -the three
little .Weeks, Jackets, trousers, shoes, caps, Ue entire
: wardrobe. Then there were gifts ef a more established ,
Christmas order, mere joy-givers, of no .use en earth, j
! andL.the,.bettarf or., being .-useless. Ilarr -Bernstein- knew
' his way to twenty stores, all raging furnaces of trade
on Christmas eve. Also, it was he who called i dkih ;
sary cart, and caused it to accompany the trade procss
slon which Mr, Van Brent and himself Inaugurated, - To
this cart were consigned the countless Christmas spoils
of the conquering Mr. Van Brent, who under te guid
ance of Herr-Bernstein became an Attlla of toys,. dv
sstatlng whole shops. What did they buy. those two.
the old Jew with the beady eyes and the soclety-oarked .
millionaire? What did they not buy? No such avalanche
of gifts threatened any three children' In town, to com
pare with that which hung pending -over the sleeping
heads of the little Weeks. ' '' :&-M4 '; S':S:;
At 11 o'clock. Officer McCue there to supervise. Mist
Clancy ready at the stairhead to assist, the overloaded
cart came creaking up the street, and halted In front
of Miss Clancy's radiant windows. At this point . Her
Bernstein took complete charge, releasing Mr. Van
Brent, who, plumes nodding triumphantly, bells singing
songs of victory, went his sleighing and snow-crunching
way back to Delmonlco's. , ."'; ' ;
"Gamier," quoth Mr. Van Brent to that funcOdnary
when again at his customary table and refreshing him
self from the labors of the night, "I've a dinner order,,
a very particular order."
"Let me see," said the politely careful Garnler, afts
the long command had been taken down; "let me seel
Seven people, you say, four grown, three children, jTo
be served tomorrow, at 1 In the afternoon. Yes, ilrf
I shall do my best." f
The gray-blue of a wintry Christmas morning came;
streaking the east. Herr Bernstein's principal room,
while not so large as a ten-acre lot, was by odds the
largest in the house. In It reposed the Van Brent gifts
mountains of careless opulence! I shall not describe
the scene. Who am I that should paint you the tmpos
sible? Suffice it that no vintage wain groaning upon It
purple-fretghted homeward way ever offered such & pie
ture of richness.
Miss Clancy was up by 6 of the morning clock. rag
blooming as June at dawn. Herr Bernstein had not gone
to bed at all. Seven o'clock found him rattling fever
Ishly at the poor portals of the sleepy little Weeks.
"Merry Christmas!" cried Herr Bernstein, in his rasp. "
lng. osprey accenta
The little Weeks had never seen his hair so grlxxlad
his beard so wild, his nose so hooked, his eyes so blacky '
beady and glittering.
"Come upstairs." he went on; "Miss Clancy has bread
snd coffee for you, and milk for the baby one. Santa
Claus, who said your room was too small, has left your,
presents with me."
Presents! Santa Claus! The little Weeks were uf
of bed on the Instant. As they scrubbed their faces and
tugged at their locks with a comb, Bobble whispered
to Jack: "I only prayed for presents, but of course
Santa Claus had to bring them. Some one had to come."
Miss Clancy paid them a visit to help with the buN
tona Then she convoyed the three to Herr Bernstein's
regions above. Being there, she was asked by that Ven
erable man to remain-and modify their transports, and
see to it that their appetites were kept -within bounds
of health. As superintendent of the brklleless Joy of toe -little
Weeks, Miss Clancy's morning was not an Idle one
Upon her breast, by tbe way, reposed a little heart of
gold, but that belongs to the story of herself and Officer)
McCue, which Is another story, and has neither art not
part nor lot herein.
One o'clock! Delmonlco's wagons back up. The
Weeks are dragged downstairs to Miss Clancy's room,
carrying armfuls of their most gorgeous belongings,
-Delmonlco's forces go aloft to Herr Bernstein's domains,
bearing tables, chairs, china, silver and napery white
as the snow outside. Hampers follow, and curious con
traptions in the way of portable ovens and unauthorized
- looking furnaces. . -rrr
There were 'flowers and oysters and soups and 'fishes
and turkey and salads and ices and puddings and candies
and fruits and Jellies and crackers and camembert
Manager Garnler had been told of Herr Bernstein. Thus:
enter, on behalf of Herr Bernstein, one goose, what
Manager Garnler called a "Jew goose," "videlicet," a
goose that had . lived an orthodox life, died an orthodox
death, and was and had ever been in all things orthodox,
But. why elaborate? It was a feast! No suoh ban
quet bad been arranged since that celebrated evening
when Dickens regaled his Seven Poor Travelers.
Mr. Van Brent arrived and was presented to-Mist
Clancy by Herr Bernstein with much formality. To the
three small Weeks, Mr. Van Brent presented himself
with no formality at all,' but much of bashful hanging
back on the Weeks' side. Officer McCue, off duty for.
the day, and as trim and upstanding In his plain clothes
as any in the town, appeared.
The table was set and r
the ovens gave forth perfumes. The three little .Weeks
were mentally upset, being unable to believe their noses,
ears and eyea , ,
Mr. Van Brent sent away the' Delmonlco men. '.Herr
Bernstein took austere charge of tbe drinkables; and
evinced a nice knowledge in wines. Officer McCue, whose
bold breadth of soul was truly catholic, would have
sampled every bottle In the room, but was repressed by,
Miss Clancy. The young Weeks talked all the time,
mostly to one another. They began to take on a dis
tended, shiny, unctuous look, like overfed puppies; there
upon Miss Clancy carried them away1 to her room below
to recover, and consider in raptures what riches a kind
Providence had showered upon them. They were re
stored to Herr Bernstein's apartments when the tables
bad been cleared away. .; r , x.;,
Mr. Van Brent, Officer McCue and Herr Bernstein
sat about with coffee and perfectos, while Miss Clancy,
presided over tbe coffee-making and the pouring.. Mr
Van Brent spoke of the joy of "doing right,', and was
corrected by Herr Bernstelnf - ;
"Don't do right," urged that philosopher and mendsj
of lame fiddles; "don't do right; do good. It is better."
With this, Mr. Van Brent perceived in Herr Bernstein
an intellect capable of fine distinctions, and the twa
pledged each other for perhaps the fourth time.
Herr Bernstein brought out his pet violin, a price
less Strad, and the musio he made would have caused
Kubelik to rend his garments. He struck Into an Irish
reel; Officer McCue sprang to his feet like a lion. Miss .
Clancy, feigning reluctance, was dragged to the center
of the floor, and the deeds the pair did In the dancing
way were to the Immortal glory of the East Side, Officer" v
McCue entered upon this part of the entertainment with
so much abandon that Miss Clancy declared he would
infallibly tear down the house. Herr Bernstein, the Strad
burled In his beard, his eyes shining like coals, waa
pleased to say in his role of landlord that he shouldn't
care If Officer McCue did.
So I might go on and on. I might tell,' for It Is all
as true as tbe almanac, how Mr. Van Brent conceived
a friendship tor Herr Bernstein, who later carried him
among the fathers of his tribe, where, Mr, Van Brent
was told old-world stories and old-world wisdom. One
might relate how one day the wedding bells went ' rlnr.
ng for pretty Miss Clancy and Ofncer McCu7ana" ow
VTiJ'L.ZCtlri't?m' the brought a youns? McCue
to the festivities, who spake not at all. but lay on his
back and stared at the dingy celling throughout llks T
wrapt soul in the coils of mighty fancies, " - "
Officer McCue was first roundsman, then lieutenant.
an-3 stepped finally Into his captaincy when but seven
years on the force. For Mr. Van Brent wasfprone to
help him onward: only he didn't know how u'tfi OlSoir
McCue trained In Tammany politics, himself pointed out
what buttons to push. Mr. Van Brent pushed doughtily.
y;UwmT b?uH,l.Md' inc th un t millionaire is
mighty In Manhattan those divers ranks of roundsman,
lieutenant , and finally , captain , . followed in . gratifying
sequence. . t '., .-, , v .......... . ,
The Httle Wjscks? Why, then, they grew p te
become big Weeks; and to be known as "Van Trent's
Weeks'' ; and to gnaw their way into the hearts of boo.,
and develop into learned : and successful men. That li
to say, they. will become learned and successful; for.
to holcTby the truth and the present. Jack Is Just now
in his Junior year at Yale. Also upon this same snmu
nary. Bobble, who still kneels in prayer, hits alrr
fixed preparatory eyes, while, with . ultimate thouht
thereof. Paul, no longer termed "baby," feeds the youth
ful fire of his hopes.- ..w.. . . ,. ., V-
"Van Brent," exclaimed a club crony, "you loo it
-younger every year) How do you do It. old chp7"
"Nothing easier, my boy!" returned that hero, nr
ping the end of a fresh ctasr; "npthln etslerl 1 ti'.j. 1
mj( Interest to things outside ef myself."
t
"'Vv'i.