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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, November 19, 1914, LAST EDITION, Image 19',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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I have. Give meyDturhame and lake
mine it is a common one and no
body will look twice atyou on' ac
count of it Give me the inspiration
of youth ahd five dollars in my pock
et and take the lassitude and disap
pointment of age and comparative
Til do it' cried the other.
R "In a yearfa 'time you, will meetjme
w here agaln,"uie elder man continued,
after they, had effected the exchange,
and Harold, with a bulging pocket
book, was beginning tp think more
hopefuljy ofUfe. fMeet'me herelhen
and let us see' bow we have fared.
Ah, it is the early struggle that gives
one inspiration to succeed." He
turned away. ,
"Promise to meet ine here at the
end of .a year?" the elder man re
sumed, wheeling round upon Harold.
"I promise," said the young fellow.
"And your name?"
"John Graham." . 0
"Mine is Harold Lanark."
"Good luck to you, Harold Lanark.
And, if I may venture a prophecy, I,
say thatthat young lady of yours will
smile much moreconfldently upon
. your suit now that you have the?
means to xaKe ner5joyj nuing ana
to buy her" , '
"You-don't know Miss Adair, sir,"
, replied .Harold confidently. "She' is
incapable of "
"Tut'tut!" interrupted the other.
"In a year's time. Thqn good night
and good luck." .
They shook hands warmly and the
elder man departed, leaving- Harold
upon the pier, gazing at the dark wa--ters
in rapt astonishment. J
It was all like a fairy tale, a won
k derful dream! and the sweetness
that life assumed was wonderful.
'How foolish of the. boy to have quar
reled with'TDynthla Cynthia who
'had always been good and kind! He
would write her abetter at once. And
f on the following morning he would
1 look around for a position again.
He went home, walking a mile and
more -to the little hall bedroom which
he,occupied in a rooming house. He
entered, lit the gas and pulled out
his pocketbook. The bulging bills
dropped out in a great heap upon the
They were cigar-store coupons. He
had heen robbed of, his last five dol
For a moment the blow stunned
him. Then, following swiftly upon
his depression, came wild exaltation.
Pate had tricked him too much. She
had done her worst a little less and
he would have been crushed. Now
he would show the world of what
Stuff he was made.
He sprang to his feet, and then he
perceived two letters- thrust under
neath the door.. One bore the stamp
of the company which had employed
him. He tore it open.
"Dear Sir," it fan, "after reconsid
ering our plans for the future we
have come to the conclusion that we
made a mistake in asking for your
resignation. We are about to start a
new branch and can utilize your
knowledge of trade conditions. Kind-ly'-feport
for work tomorrow morn
ing." The second envelope was ad
dressed in a, handwriting which sent
the blood tovthe young man's head.
"Harold, dearest," ran the letter,
"won't you forgive me for my un
kindness, and hardness of heart? I
love you, Harold, whatever happens
1ind I don't care whether you are
rich or poor, so-long as wesan have
each other. Write to me at once and 4
tell me that nothing shall ever come
betweenus .again. Cynthia."
tHarold Lanark put the letter into
the envelope again and placed it '
against his heart. Then he executed
a paffseul round the room, heedless
of the angry hammering of Ahe man
What did he care? Fate had over
, There are 23,555 old maids, or
thereabouts, paying the income tax
in the U. S. t
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