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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 24, 1913, Image 14

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-14/

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pectant face of a person waiting
and hoping for work.
"Getting worse, if possible, all
the time," was the reply. "I am
, afraid my venture is a poor one.
Locality bad, or else I do not
know how to win trade. There's
the mortgage, toe. They have
given me a bare twenty-four
hours to settle or give up posses
sion. Why does not my brother
come on?"
"There is the money to relieve
your present necessities," said
Philip, handing over the proceeds
of the loan.
The old man stared; quick tears
arose to his eyes. He waved back
the generous hand extended, but
Philip persuaded him with suc
cess. He induced his friend to
make one more trial of his busi
ness experiment, and left him
with encouraging words.
"I had to do it," Philip told
himself. "I can't see Mr. Gar
land lose his all, if it is only for
her sake dear Isabel! How he
has struggled to give her a musi
cal education. So near to acquir
ing it, too. I won't regret a good
It was Philip's first picture, the
portrait of this Isabel, that smiled
down from an easel as the young
artist entered his studio. Quite
incidentally he had become ac
quainted with Mr. Garland and
then with his ward. Isabel was
the daughter of the closest friend
;of the old man who had started
him in life, lost his own wealth,
land a more loyal guardian never
Isabel was perfecting a musical ,
education and Garland never let
her know how hard he was press
ed. For over a month he had
been in an optimistic mood. He
had received a letter from a
brother, a sea captain who had
been off on a two years' cruise.
It came from a distant city and
on its heels a large seaman's
chest. The letter announced that
very soon its writer would follow,
and that he had come to share a
royal fortune with his brother.
But since then not a word had
been received from the sea cap
tain. Business had fallen away,
and now the generous-hearted
artist had sacrificed his all to as
sist his friends.
No love word had been spoken
between Philip and Isabel. Even
ings when he visited the neat par
lor behind the little shop, how
ever, and the happy twain con
versed of art, music and of all
things beautiful, both felt that
their souls were in complete har
mony. One week later Philip visited
the Garland place to find the old
man immersed in the deepest
gloom. He had received a tele
gram announcing the death of his
brother in a hospital. The last
words he spoke were transmitted :
"Tell my brother that the chest
and its treasure is all his own."
"Its "treasure," according to
Garland, consisted of some sailor
clothes, a few nautical instrum-
ments and a keg containing some
oily compound of the deep.
"It's the end," said the old man
dejectedly. "My main worry is
that your generous loan is lost.

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