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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 24, 1913, Image 13

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1913-02-24/ed-1/seq-13/

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THE OLD SEA CHEST
By Genevieve Ulmar.
(Copyright by W. G. Chapman.)
"It's the law of poverty take
your choice," was the stern dic
tum of obstinate, self-opinionated
James Ross, uncle of Philip Carle,
who stood before him.
"I am sorry, uncle, but it's not
the law for me,'' came the clear,
definite response: "I'm not cut
f
nuHT
ISpBfyf I II
"What About This?
out for it, the business is distaste
ful to me, and I would rather have
a crust of bread and my artistic
ambitions,, than the solemn judi
cial sense and a fortune."
"So much the poorer you, so
much the richer I," quoted the old
money grabber. "You need bank
on no dependence on me here
after. Wait," And the speaker
snapped open a drawer, in his
desk and took from it a small
package. "That belonged to your
father. It is legally mine, but I
give it to you, as a momento or to
waste, as you like. I wash my
hands of you."
Philip Carle made his exit feel
ing that he had made a pretty bad
mess of his affairs. There was no
help for it, however. The artistic
impulse in him was strong, and
uncertain as seemed the field he
was bound to stick to it.
He had not gone to his self-centered
relative to ask money for
himself. While he had very lit
tle of that commodity personally,
the needs of another had urged
him to apply for assistance. He
undid the wrappings of the little
parcel. It contained a diamond
ring, probably a remnant of the
wealth he knew his dead father
had once possessed.
"I will never sell it," he said,
walking on thoughtfully, "but r
and he stopped at the first pawn
broker's shop he came to.
"I will loan you three hundred
dollars," its proprietor said, and
Philip nodded with a lump in his
throat, trying to believe that
what he was doing was right.
He at length turned into a
small tailoring shop. Its show
windows were neat as a pin. A
rather unique sign swung over its
doorway. It read :
"Only the lilies of the field can
clothe themselves cheaper than
you can in this shop."
"Well, how is business, Mr.
Garland?" inquired Philip of an
old man with the worried yet ex-

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