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Newspaper Page Text
youth renewed. Then, if you take
my advice, get married and home
life will do the rest."
Thus it was that two mornings
later Thomas Maltby was intro
duced to Prof. Septimus Gregg
at the doctor's office. He found
the latter to be a great, fierce,
bearish old fellow.
"Tommy Maltby, eh?" he
spoke. "Well, Tommy, .if
you're ready, toddle along with
me. I've a few purchases to make
and you can carry the bundles."
Thomas stared. He got ready
to resent such familiarity. Then
he remembered that the doctor
had told him that the professor
was an eccentric, and had ex
acted a promise that he would
obey his directions to the smallest
Thomas stared still more
strangely as the professor enter
ed a department store and pur
chased: (1) half a dozen shoe
fly kites; (2) as many humming
tops; (3) a dozen bags of mar
bles; (4) a box of bubble pipes.
"You must have a lot of chil
dren to provide for, professor?"
"H'm! you'll soon find out,"
was the gruff rejoinder.
When they reached a walled-in
country place at noon that day,
Thomas Maltby wondered if he
had entered an asylum. "A dozen
men as old, or older than himself
greeted their arrival boisterious
ly. Some of them were bare
footed. All of them wore knick
erbockers. They capered around
like boys on a vacation. Eager
ly they scrambled for the doctor's
purchases. Then they hooted
and frisked about like mere kids..
They played marbles, blew bub
bles, spun tops, flew kites. .
"Now then, make believe you'rej
a boy again. Forget everything.
for one month but
just that, .
said the professor, and Thomas,
was escorted to a room with a
trundle bed, and emerged from it
wearing a juvenile costume like
Thomas grinned and then
laughed outright as he got onto
the scheme. He was to play boy
for a month. He was hailed as
"Tom" on the playground. When
he got hungry, he went around
to the kitchen and was given a
great slice of bread and butter.
By nightfall he had really got in
terested in games of marbles,
and ran himself out of breath
chasing a runaway kite.
"It's great-!" he chuckled, as he
rolled onto the trundle bed that
night, heartily tired out for the
first time in ten years.
Inside of a week Thomas Malt
by had forgotten the club, late
dinners and his automobile. The
"boys" went fishing, swimming.
They played one old cat, mum-blety-peg,
hi-spy. They got up,
big, healthy appetites. Thomas
cherished two "mibs," a glass
alley and a "falsie" agate with
more pride that he had a $1,000
profit on the stock exchange.
"It's famous," he told an au
gust comrade, an astronomical
student, for the time being a
frisky, delighted lad. "No more
dizzy spells; I can run like a
whitehead and eat why, thai