Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About The gazette-times. (Heppner, Or.) 1912-1925 | View Entire Issue (April 30, 1914)
12 HOME AND FARM MAGAZINE SECTION I - """n arrnON SERIAL I Copyright, 113, B7 George Barr McCutcheon By Geo. Barr McCutcheon. A Fool and His Money JTaVWaC J-Jl-r i CHAPTER I I MKE NO EFFORT TO DEFEND MYSELF. KAM quite sure it was my Uncle Rilas who said that I was a fool. If memory-serves me well he relieved himself of".;that conviction in the presence of my mother whose brother he was at a time when I was least competent to aeknowledge1iis wisdom and most arrogant in assert in? mv own. I was a freshman in col lege: a fact or condition, perhaps which should serve as an excuse iui With of us. I possessed another uncle, incidentally, and while I am now convinced that he must have felt as Uncle Iiilas did about it, he was one of Uiuae who suffer in silence. The nearest he ever got to openly re senting me as a freshman was when he admitted, as if it weer a crime that he too had been in college and v-new less when he came away than when he entered. Which is a mild u-ay of putting it, I am sure, consider ing the fact that he remained there for 23 years as a distinguished mem ber of the faculty. I assume, therefore, that it was Uncle Rilas who orally convicted me, an assumption justified to come ex tent by putting wo and two together after the poor old geUleman was iaia away for his long sleep. He had been very emphatic in his belief that a fool and his money a-e soon parted. Up to the time of his death 1 had been In no way qualified to dispute this ancient theory. In theory, no doubt, I was the kind of a fool he referred to, but In practice I was quite an untried novice. It is very hard for even a fool to part with something he hasn't got. True, I parted with the little I had at college with noteworthy promptness about the middle of each term, but that could hardly have been polled a fair test for the adnge. Not until Uncle Rilas died and left me all of his money ran I able to demon strate that only dead men and fools part with it. The distinction lies in the capacity for enjoyment while the sensation lasts. Dead men part with It because they have to, fools because they want to. i ! In any event, Uncle Rilas did not leave me his money until my fresh man days were far behind me, where in lies the solace that he may have outgrown an opinion while I was going through the same process. At 23 1 confessed that all freshmen were Insufferable, and immediately after ward took my degree and went out into the world to convince It tnat seniors are by no means adolescent. Having successfully passed the age of reason, I too felt myself successfully qualified to look with scorn upon all creatures employed in the business of getting an education. There were times when I wondered how on earth I could have stooped so low as to be a freshman. I still have the dis quieting fear that my uncle did not modify his opinion of me until I was thoroughly over being a senior. You Will note that I do not say he changed his opinion. MoCtfy is the word. His original opinion of me, as a freshman, of course was uttered when I, at the age of 18, picked out my walk in life, so to speak. After considering everything, I decided to be a literary man. A novelist or a play wright, I hadn't much of a choice between the two, or perhaps a jour nalist lieing a journalist, of course, was preliminary; a sort of makeshift. At any rate, I was going to be a writer. My Uncle Rilas, a hard headed cus tomer who had read Scott as a boy and the Wall Street news as a man without being misled by either was scornful. He said that I would out grow it, there was some consolation in that. He even admitted that when he was 17 he wanted to be an actor. There you are, said he! I declared there was a great difference between being an actor and being a writer, (inly handsome men can be actors, while I well, by nature I was doomed to be. nothing more engaging than a novelist, who doesn't have to spoil an Illusion by showing himself in public. Besides, I argued, novelists make a great deal of money, and play wrights too, for that matter. He said in renlv that an ordinarily vigorous washerwoman could make more moiuv than the average novelist, and v aiivin had n stocking without a hole to keep it in, which was more to the point. Now that I come to think of it, it was Uncle Rilas who oracularly pre judged me, and not Uncle John, who Was by way of being a sort of literary chap himself and therefore lamentably unqualified to guide me in any course whatsoever, especially as he had all he could do to keep his own wolf at bay without encouraging mine, ana who, besides teaching good English, loved it wisely and too well. I think Uncle Rilas would have new uncie John nn to me as an example a scarecrow, you might say If it hadn't been for the fact that he loved mm in spite of his English. He must have loved me in spite of mine. My mother felt in her heart that I nnrht to he a doctor or a preacher, but she wasn't mean: she was positive I could succeed as a writer if I set my mind to it. She was also sure that I could be president of the United States or perhaps even a bishop. We were Episcopalian. When I was 27 my first short story onneared In a magazine of consider able we.ieht. due to its auverusing pages, but my Uncle Rilas didn't read it until I had convinced him that the honorarium amounted to three hun dred dollars. Even then I was obliged to promise him a glimpse of the ,heeif when I trot it. Somewhat be lated, it came in the course of three or four months with a rather tart let ter in which I was given to under stand that it wasn't quite the thing to pester a great publishing house witn queries of the kind I had been so persistent in propounding. But at last Uncle Rilas saw the check and waa nronerlv Impressed. He took back what he had said about the washer woman, but gave me a little further advice concerning the stocking. In course of time my first novel ap nea red. It was a love story. Uncle Rilas read the first five chapters and then sklDDed over to the last page. Then he began it all over again and sat up nearly all night to finish it. The nt iiav he called it "trash but in vited me to have luncheon with him at the Metropolitan Club and rather noisily introduced me to a few old ,.rtie of his who were not sufficient ly interested in me to enquire what roir name wm a trlflinir detail he had overlooked In presenting me as his nephew but who did ask me to nave a drink. A month later he died. He left me a fortune, which was all the more Btneirerinir In view of the circumstance that he had seen me named for my Uncle John and not for him. It 'was not long afterward that I made a perfect fool of myself by fall ing in love. It turned out very baaiy. I can't Imagine what got into me to want to commit bigamy after I had already proclaimed myself to be ir revocably wedded to my profession. Nevertheless I deliberately coveted the experience, and would have at tained to it no doubt had It not been for the young woman In the case. She would have none of me, but with considerable independence of spirit and, I must say, noteworthy acumen, elected to wed a splendid looking fel low who clerked in a jeweler's shop in Fifth avenue. They had been en gaged for several years, lt seems, and my swollen fortune failed to disturn her sense of fidelity. Perhaps you will be interested enough in a girl who could refuse to share a fortune of som ethine like three hundred thou sand dollars (not counting me, of course) to let me tell you brieny who and what she was. She was my typist. That is to say, she did piece work for me as I happened to provioe substance for her active fingers to work upon when she wasn't typing law briefs in the regular sort of grind. Not only was she an able typist, but she was an exceedingly wholesome, handsome and worthy young woman. I think I came to like her with genu ine resolution when I discovered that she could spell my name correctly and had the additional knack of unit ing mv Htrav infinitives with stub born purposefulness as well as the ability to administer my grammar with tact and discretion. Unfortunately she loved the jewel er's clerk. She tried to convince me, with a sweetness I shall never forget, that she was infinitely better suited to be a jeweler's wife than to be a weight upon the neck of a genius. Moreover, when I foolishly mentioned my snug fortune as an extra induce ment, she. Dut me smartly In my place by remarking that fortunes like wine are made in a day while really excel lent Jeweler's clerks are something like thirty years In the making. Which, I take it, was as much as to say that there is always room for Im provement in a man. I confess I was somewhat disturbed by one ot ner eentlest remarks. She seemed to be repeating my Uncle Rilas, although I am quite sure she had never heard of him. She armed that the fortune might take wings and fly away, and then what would be to pay! or course, it was Derfectly clear to me, stupm as I must have been, that she pre ferred the jeweler's clerk to a lor-tune. t wan loth tn lose her as a typist. The exact point where I appear to have marie a fnol nf mvself was when I first took it into my head that I could make something else of her. i not only lost a competent typist, but I lost a great deal of sleep, and had to go abroad for awhile, as men do when they find our unpleasant things about themselves in just that way. I gave her a wedding present, a verv costlv and magnificent dining- room set, fondly hoping that the Jeweler's clerk would experience a great deal of trouble In living up to it. At first I had thought of a Marie Antoinette bedroom set, but gave it nn when T enntemnlated the cost. Tf vnu will nardon me. I shall not go any further into this lamentable love affair. I submit, in extenuation, that people do not care to be regaled with the heartaches or pa?t auairs, thev are only interested in those which appear to be in the process of active development or retrogression. Burnee to say, I was terribly cut up over trie way my first serious affair of the heart turned out, and tried my best tn hate mvself for letting it worry me. Somehow I was able to attribute the fiasco to an inborn sense of shy ness that has always made me faint hearted, dilatory and unagressive. No doubt if I had gone about it rough hnn and fierv I could have played hob with the excellent jeweier s peace of mind, to say the least, but alas! I succeeded only In approach ing at a time when there was nothing left for me to do but to start him off in life with a mild handicap in the shape of a dining-room set that would not go with anything else he had in the apartment. still some men. no matter how shy and procrastinating they may be or reluctant, for that matter are uoomeu tn have love affairs thrust upon them, as you will perceive if you follow the course of this narrative to tne outer end. In order that you may know me when you see me struggling through these pages, as one might struggle through a morass on a dark night, I shall take the liberty of describing myself in the best light possible under the circumstances. I am a talllsh sort of person, mod erately homely, and not quite 35. I am strong, but not athletic. What ever physical development 1 possess was acquired through the ancient and honorable game of golf and in swimming. In both of these sporis i am quite proficient, My nose is rath er long and inquisitive, ana my cnin is considered to be singularly firm for one who has no ambition to become a hero. My thatch is abundant and quite black. Iunderstand that my eyes are green when I affect a green tie, light blue when I put on one i that delicate hue, and curiously yel low when I wear brown about my neck. Not that I really need them, hut I wear nose classes when read ing: to save my eyes, of course. I sometimes wear them In public, wiin a very fetching and Imposing black band draping across my expanse of shirt front. I find this to be most effective when sitting in a box at the , theater. My tailor Is a good one. I shave myself clean with an old-fash ioned razor and find it to ue quite safe and tractable. My habits are con sidered rather good, and I sang nass In the glee club. Bo mere ou me. Not quite what you could call a lady killer, or even a lady s man, i luncy you'll say. You will be surprised to learn, how ever, that secretly I am of a rather rnmantlc. imaginative turn of mind. Since earliest chtlhood I have con sorted with princesses and ladies ot high degree, mentally, of course, and my bosom companions have keen knights of valour and longevity. Noth ing could have suited me better than to have been born in a feudal castle few centuries ago, from which I should have sallied forth in full nr- mour on the slightest provocation ana returned in glory when the-e was no one left in the neighborhood to pro voke me. Even now, as I make this astound ing statement, I can't help thinking of that confounded jewelers' dork. At 35 I am still unattached and, so far as I can tell, unloved. What more could a sensible, experienced bachelor expect than that? Unless, of course, he aspired to be a monk or a hermit, in which case he reasonably could be i,r of himself if not of others. Tjist winter In London my mother went to a ood bit of trouble to set my cap for a lady who seemed in every way qualified to look alter an otny ,n aa he should be looked after from a mother's point of view, and 1 declare to you I had a wretchedly close can of it. My poor mother, thinking it was quite settled, sailed for America, leaving me entirely unprotected, a-rereunon I succeeded in making my escape. Heavens knows I had no desperate longing to visit Palestine hi that particular time, but I journeyed thither without a qualm of regret, and thereby avoided the surrender with out love or honor. (To be Continued Next Week.) Cleanliness of Cement A cement trough for the hog lot Is one of the greatest little Improvements about the farm. It is easy to make, easy to clean, never gets out of order and is readily disinfected. You can build It yourself. Another and better arrangement Is to have an automatic waterlnir device with a tank made nt galvanized iron, mounted on a sled, and movable from place to place. Pennsylvania has about 7, BOO, 000 acres ot timbcrland, one-eighth "f which Is owned by the state. The, total value of the states timber is 1139,000,000. HOTEL FRYE & SEATTLE A Class A Building (11 Stories) of Steel, Concrete, Marble, Hollow Tile and Brick IXT" IT CAN'T BURN - 'FRYE SERVICE" Means the Best That Well-Paid and Com petent Help (and plenty of it) Can Give RATES THAT ARE RIGHT $1.00 Per Day and Up Every Room an Outside Room LOCATION Only Three Blocks From Depots and Docks
