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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, September 02, 1913, Image 20',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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The shades were down at all the win
'dows. Coggswell let himself in noise
lessly and slipped along the hall and
up the stairs, creeping like a guilty
man hounded by adversaries. At the
head of the first flight the low drone
of voices reachedThis ears. The draw
room door was slightly ajar, and in
side he saw the coffin, surrounded
with lights, and persons standing
He crept up to his den at the top
of the house. As he reached the last
story he saw a figure coming toward
him, followed by another, and shrank
back into a closet just as they came
round the bend in the passage. They
were two serving maids, and, as they
paused, he heard one of them say:
"Why are you taking on so, Mary?
He wasn't no good, for all I've heard
tell of him. Didn't he drive that good
wife of his out of his house and spoil
her life for her?"
"I can't help it," sniffed the othw
"He mayn't have been a gbod man,
but he saved my brother's life."
They passed on, and something
leaped up in Coggswell's heart. He
remembered now a carelessly tossed
hundred-dollar bill to the housemaid,
when he had learned that her brother
was suffering from tuberculosis.
When they had disappeared he went
down the steps with a firmer tread.
Nevertheless, outside the drawjng
room door he paused and listened.
Prentice, his partner, was speaking.
"I tell you, Mrs. Coggswell," he
was saying, "Charles was a good
man. Never you worry about his
superficial faults. I knew him more
intimately than any man of his ac
quaintance, and I know that a warm
heart beat under the affectation of
selfishness. I could tell you stories "
"0, I know he was," his wife sob
bed. "It is I who have been at fault.
When he was a young man, strug
gling to make his way in the world, I
stood between him and success.. I
was no helpmate to him. I thought
of nothing but dinners and dresses.
O, Charles, if you could only know,
I if you could only come back to me!"
A graver voice was speaking. It
was that Of the clergyman. Coggs
well had been a liberal subscriber to
church funds, mainly for advertising
"You must not reproach yourself,
Mrs. Coggswell," he was saying.
"Your husband was a good man, but
he failed as you say you failed, sim
ply because he did not always under
stand the people about him. He was
a rigidly good and honorable man in
many ways and a liberal one."
A fourth voice took up the parable.
Coggswell started and clenched his
fists in bitter remorse. The voice was
that of his son.
"I know father meant to do well
by me," he said. "You know, mother,
he believed that a man shtfuld shift
for himself, to develop independence
of character. That's why he left me
to worry along as best I could. God
bless him! He was one of the finest
men that ever lived."
The voices died away, and it seem
ed Coggswell as though he had al
ready come to the new birth that he
desired. Why should he go away and
sink his identity when his life lay
here? No, the real life was in his ac
customed place, with life's struggle
still before him, enmities to over
come, faults to be atoned for, all the
battle to be fought out over again in
the accustomed battlefield. He hes
itated a moment; then softly opened
(Copyright by W. G. Chapman.)
0 o -
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To peel tomatoes put them in a
wire basket and drop the basket into
boiling water. Allow to stand one
minute. The skin will then slip off
This simple but delicious dainty is
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garnished with green minted cher-.