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Mr. Costigan's Expeditious Life
I 'I' is now morn years than a middle-aged woman will cvor admit having seen that Matthew Mark Luke John Costigan left the Emerald Islo in a high dudgeon and a low, foul-bottomed whllop ing little vessel that usually made (he run from one side of the orean to the other In a couple of months or so; provided Bho had favoring winds and Ihe stayed sober. When they bad loft the receding shores, mist-bound, miles behind, and there was no chance of 'boullng ;'.iip und putting back, Mr. Matthew Mark Luke John CQStlgan took a firm grip on the rigging and, climb ing up on the rail, began to tell the royal family, in dividually and collectively, what he thought of it. l«' threw in a few scattered remarks In general atient I'arihiment, landlords, rents and similar unpleasant < viis; and the whole tenor of his diatribe was such. Hint the captain left the wheel and came down to listen to him. Tho captain had been using the same objurgatory vocabulary for more years than ten, and this was an opportunity for improvement not to bo missed. Some eight weeks later he landod in New York. Ax they sailed up the harbor, so eager was he to rest foot upon the soil of that glorious country where all men are born free and equal (even though they don't stay that way more than a couple of minutes after birtb), and where dollars lie about in the streets like potatoes in a bill, that he fell over the bow; and if it hadn't been been that the anchor was there catted, this story might never have been written. As it was, he made his way over the side on a ropo ladder to the dock and thence into the emigrant Ktable; and, by the time he at length got through con vincing a lot of prying, obtuse, obstinate and inquisi tive persons that he was capable of supporting him self and didn't have any contagious diseases other than those natural to one who has lived in a peat bog, and that the Home for the Destitute was not the apex of his ambitions, ho was at last permitted to go out into the street. But someone else had already picked up all tho dollars, and the only thing left for him to do was to take a Job carrying bricks np a ladder that ieaned against the side of an unfinished stack in Hoboken. As be was open-handed, open-hearted, a free spender, a free drinker and a free thinker, and as eager for a row as is a dog for a bone, he soon achieved a degree of popularity that bore heavily i!pon his personal success; for he found that in a country where offices are elective, and laws lax, there is a great opportunity for a man of brains to live without working. Mr. Costigan, from carrying the hod, came to car rying the billy. Then he was advanced to the posi tion of roundsman; and, as the tribute that he levied v aud the toll that he took were of gratifying largeness, be became a lieutenant, and finally a captain. Arriving at this eminence, he looked about him; and his now experienced eyes saw that a captaincy is an effect rather than a cause. So he broke out of the police department, and Into the Board of Aldermen;' and thence into the contracting business, which seems to be the height of ambition for most good politicians. He prospered. He prospered exceedingly. For every inch, of dirt that he put into a scar on the face of Mother Earth that, for some reason which an all wise Providence alone knew, required filling, he was paid for a cubic foot. And each of his sky-blue wagons would drive past the inspector, who counted them a« having a different load on each appearance, until the dirt sifted out between the bottom boards and the driver was obliged to go back for a new rtoiid. If Mr. Costlgan's city wagons had had dirt- Might floors there is no knowing what his wealth might have been. ¦< , Of course he .married. The woman of his choice, espoused during billy-carrying days, had been a ser vant-girl employed by a family residing upon Officer Costigan's beat; and, because she chose to stay in the arcaway and talk to Ofncer Costigan instead of cook ing and making beds, her employers eventually de rided that, as they had to do all the work themselves ;>nyway, they might as well do it without paying her a salary, too. Whereat the lady in question came to Officer Costigan and subtly implied to him that, as he was the cause of her losing her position, it was pat ently his duty to provide her with another by wed ding her. At. first Officer Costigan was obtuse and was unable to follow her line of reasoning. But she was a large woman with a hanti like a sack of potatoes; and bo tUey were finally married. She proved a good wife; for she made him a home from which be was afraid to stay away, and to which he was afraid to go with too little money or too much liquor; and sho bore him one son, and then died. He mourned her as sincerely as bis business cares would permit, and the son, when be became old enough, was sent away to boarding-school. Time passed. The son grew in mind and body, while tho father grew in wealth and influence. But there was ibis difference between them: that while the son began to achieve, the father began to lose, sense; and when finally the son returned from a two years' trip abroad that bad been put onto the tag-end of a, col lege education much as a snapper is attached to the lend of a whiplash, it was to find the father much 'altered. Next Week, Eclipse of a Honeymoon nARRIET prescot spotford The germs of the Too-Much-Money fever had fore gathered in bis system. In an 111-advised moment, ho had permitted himself to be cultivated by a young society man with political aspirations. He wanted Mr. Costlgan's Influence. Mr. Coatlgan wanted his money. It seemed an equable division, though neither bad for a moment intended that the other should get that which he desired. The young society man had taken Mr. Costigan out to see the town. Mr. Coßtigafl had seen the town before, many and many a time. But hitherto he had always seen it in the uniform of the police depart ment; now htf gazed at it from the pinnacle of a, dress-suit; and It is surprising what a difference this makes. "I'll give the boys a real'treat," observed he of the silver sjmon ; and he took Mr. Costigan and his dress suit to a slag dinner. The affair broke up at 3.47 a. m., with the diners, formed In platoons, endeavoring to break arc-lights with cantaloupes for five dollars a corner. And after this Costigan was considered a social favorite. He took to riding about in cabs. Every stage doorman In tho city knew him, and made him wel come, and almost every night he fed a large batsh of excessively hungry chorus girls with variegated hair and Sybarltish desires who, as soon as they had fin ished eating, would bid him good-by and go home and go to bed; for chorus girls have to Bleep once in a while, popular conviction to the contrary notwithstanding. He went to the races in a large red automobile, driven by a Frenchman with a name which Mr. Costigan couldn't hare pronounced if you'd given him Manhat tan Island. He was a first-nighter, a seeond-nighter and an every other nighter. He Joined all the clnbs that he could get into, and they were not a few. . His bed never knew him until the milkman had come and gone, and his sartorial predilections would have made the lilies of the field blush in utter shame. Violent blues, riotous reds, passionate purples, turgid yellows, he affected constantly and consistently. In a bell crowned top-bat of the highest luster, sllk-llned frock-coat, lavender trousers, white spats, patent leather shoes, a striped shirt adorned with a diamond of so many karats that he had lost count, a vest of red, yellow, blue, green and cinnamon plaid, and hi* large, lumpy hands stuck into a pair of white kid gloves, he' was an object that the cartoonists fairly loved. And thus it was that his son, on his return from Europe, found him. And Costigan pere had accom plished It all in only two years! As the father had an important engagement with a theatrical manager who wanted him to back a show, he failed to meet his son at the pier. And as sundry other engagements followed in quick succession it was not until quarter-past five on the following morn ing that they finally encountered one another. At the hour named the son was awakened from sleep by hearing a cab stop in front of the house. After a long interval there was a scratching at the keyhole of the front door. After another long' interval the door was flung open with a bang. And then some one came in and walked up one flight of stairs five times; and at the sixth at tempt managed to stay at the top only by lying down on bis face and grabbing the balustrade with both hands. - Now, the son himself had from time to time scat tered a few wild oats. But he had learned to appre ciate the potent fact that wild oats grow no sort of a marketable crop, and that the time spent in sowing them is wasted, while that devoted to reaping is worse than wasted. And to come back to find his father's oat bag open at both ends and the gentleman in ques tion sowing with both hands and scratching with his feet made him naturally and becomingly wroth. However, he realized the futility of present dis cussion. Bo be rolled his father, dress suit and all, Into the bath tub, ran the cold water over him for a while and then put him to bed, with a pitcher of Ice water convenient to his hand and a dose of broruo in a glass beside it. On the following day the father's breakfast and the eon's lunch coincided. "Ar-rh, Tim, mo bye, 'tis gla^d 01 am t' see ye!" .exclaimed Costigan pere as he sat down at the table and drank four glasses of Ice water in quick succes sion. He winked, sportively and complacently. " 'Til a divvle ay a head Oi hoy on me t'-day," be an nounced, in cheerful Belf-pity. "Be hivins, me toongue's like a (Jure mat." His son, over his soup, was gazing at him in in finite disgust. "Oi was sorry not t' hoy met ye at th" dock," con tinued the elder man, blithely, "but Oi had a inga agemint." He winked again. "Don" axe me If 'twas a la-ady, because 01 don* want t' hoy t' till yez no lies." Costlgan tils gazed at him cuttingly. "You're a gay dog, aren't you?" he queried, iron ically. His father nodded with great satisfaction. "So they till me," be returned, complacently. "You're certainly a giddy young sprig," observed the son in the same unrecognized sarcasm. " 'The lolfe ay th' par-rty,' they calls me, Timmy," returned his father. "An' be hivins, 01 ha-ate t' talk aboot mesilf , but Oi'm th' grea-atest fat'rlte wld th' wimmen Oi iver knowed!" His son saw that in uttering sarcasms he was wast* ing bis sweetness on the desert air. "You're an old ass!" he declared, bluntly, "You, a doddering old man with round feet and hands like hams, and no more sense than a hard-boiled egg, to go on like this! You make me sick!" For an Instant Mr. Costigan stared at bis son truculently. Then, slowly, his mismated features ex panded Into a wide smile. "Ay Oi didn't know thot thtm reraar-rks ye has just made was prompted be jealousy," he said, "Old lep over th' ta-able an' ta-ake # crack at ye, ye young shpalpeent But 'tis on'y invloua ye ar're." He took a LOS ANGELES HERALD SUNDAY SUPPLEMENT. •poouftil of oatmeal and made a wry face. "But niver moind, TUn," he continued. "Oi'll ta-itUe ye roond wld me a bit, an' If yoz watch me^keerful an' doos as 01 dooß Oi'll hoy ye In t' shumri. Hit yit, be hivins!" "Have me in it?" exclaimed his son. "Not If I sipcs you first: Why, I went Into it and came, out again long ;ip:o; and it's too bad you didn't do the name. What, ilo you mean by It?" he demanded helplessly. "How long are you going to keep it up. I low many years will it take you to grow v convolution In that. thins; you call a br;iin? Why — how— what '." He stopped iv sheer impotence. < His father ceased trying to eat and eyed him with mingled eruotionX Slowly be, began to gel angry. But suddenly his eye chanced to meet tho dial of tho clock and be rose hastily from bis chair. "Be hivins!" he cried, "Oi ca-ame near fergettin' a inga-agetnint 01 had f ta-nke th' Merry Maidens Burlesque Comp'ny out t "dinner!" He rose to his feet. "Old lave ye go wid me on'y ye're too dom frish!" and he withdrew, with great dignity, to the hall, where the butler assisted him info a long, cream colored coat with a black velvet collar and buttons as big as saucers. His son waited until he heard the front door slam. Then he sighed and shook his head sadly. "Well," he philosophized, "there's no fool like an old fool. I wonder what he'll do next! " From the day of tho return of Costigan flls the dove of peace was afraid to come within ten city blocks^ of the paternal menage, for of course the son remon strated and of course the father resented. And as the son's remonstrances grew more impatient and more biting so did the father's resentment wax more wrath ful and indignant. It finally ended In the father at tempting to administer physical chastisement and the son gently laying the father down on the floor and sitting on him until he recovered, although he almost died of apoplexy first. Costigan flls was in the next three weeks disin herited fourteen times, which was as often as he and tala father met in that interval. Obstinate, bellicose, Mr. Costigan continued along his »hosen pathway of aged adolescence. Aggrieved, indignant, disgusted, his son continued to do bis best to wean his father from the error of his ways and show him tho folly of his course. And the nerving men got to he most adept at dodging plates and glasses and learned to comply with Mr. Costigan's every wish even before he him self knew what it was. At length Mr. Costigan came in to dinner one night and, carefully spreading open his coat to show a vest that wasn't large'enough to carry the whole pattern, smiled defiantly across at bis son. "Oi've news f'r yez, Tim," he said, in warlike amiability. "Oi'll brea-ak it to yez gently because Oi know 'twill be a shock t' ye. Ol'm goin' to bo marrlt agin." Mr. Costigan evidently expected the announcement to create a sensation, and he was not disappointed. His con for a moment sat transfixed, his eyes staring In almost uncomprehending alarm and wonder and dismay. "WHAT!" he fairly howled. Costigan pere nodded. "Yls," he returned com placently. "Ol'm p;oin' to be marrit agin. 'Tie a sha-ame f'r me. a». th' very prime o1o 1 me loife. t 1 bt single an' alone an' a bachelder. An'," he added, with anything but. bumble humility, "mebbe 'twill brea-ak me o' me divviish wa-aj k an' shteady me down a bit." Mis son had partially recovered himself. "And wbo's tho lady?" be demanded. "Who's the female kidnapper of second childhood that wants your money?" Mr. Costipan bumped about in his chair and shook hi« tist. acrosß the table wrathfully. "Don't ye sphake that wa-ay o' me flansay!" he howled belligerently, "'f Oi'll go to th' flure wid ye! Th' la-ady who'll hoy th' honor o' being my wife an' tir dishonor o' bein'.yure mlther is Miss Nora Ma lone." "What!" yelled the son, "your stenographer?" His father nodded complacently. "Th' sa-ame," he replied. "An' a doni good wan she Is, too. She can ta-akc things down fasther m 01 c'n talk thim, bo hivins." "I knew you were a chump!" cried bis son, "but I never dreamed that It was s6 bad that It would carry you, a doddering old man of sixty-live, to marrying a girl of twenty! At first I waa afraid that you'd get, "arrested, but when I thought It over I knew that with the pull you have you couldn't if you tried. And so I settled in my own mind that the worst that could happen to you would be the D. T.'s. But this !" He shook his head in mingled rage and chagrin, sor row and disgust. "To think," he mutteped to him self, "that an old man with one foot In the grave could make of himself such a complete and utter ass." His father, gazing down at him from the roseate- "A BA-ABY! WELL, OI'LL BE !" clouded heights of the divine passion, refused to get angry even at this. "Ar-ro ye acquainted wld th' la-ady?" he demanded. His son shook his head. "Then phwha-at th' divvle do yez know about it? " he inquired, pertinently. His son eyed him. "I know you," he returned. "If you weren't an idiot, you wouldn't, marry her. You'd adopt her. And if she weren't worse than an idiot she wouldn't marry you. t§he'd marry some one she could love." His father threw out his plaid vest, arrogantly. "Oh, Oi do' know!" he said. "Oi'm a illegible party, Oi guess. Oi ain't so ould nor bo oogly. Gur-rls has loved me befure an' will ag'ln, be hivins! So why not this wan?" His son started to speak. Then, realizing the futil ity of talk, merely stared at him. "When Is the ceremony going to take place?" he asked at length. "Oi ain't decided yit," returned his father, molli fied because the question was unaccompanied by either objurgation or reprimand. "OJ've got t' hoy me fling fur-rst. 'Tis now Joon. Say in Novlmber. Thin Oi'll hoy a bachelder dinner an' we go to Monty Car-rlo an' Noopoort f'r our honeymoon." He smiled seraphically. His son kicked the table leg impotently and glow ered down upon his grinning parent. "All I wish," he said, savagely, "Is that you were my son ir.stead of my father!" For a week, almost without interruption, Costigan Porter Emerson Browne flls pursued through the ramifications of his mind vague, indeterminate shapes or Ideas and plots and plans. One by one he ran them down and caught them to and that his clutching fingers held nothing And that he was a* bad off as ever. His father would not hear reason. In point of fact, he would not hear anything, because whenever his r;on tried to speak to him he would immediately begin to sing, and would continue with his vocal exercises until his son, 100, was silent. In this way he achieved mental con tentment because he never knew what his sou called him; and he likewise accorded considerable, -comfort to his son, who, under the cover of his father's voice, '•ould tell him a lot of things that he wouldn't other wise have dared to. At the end of seven days, then, the son decided that the only thing to do was to go to see the girl. Maybe, he thought, ho could make her sec' reason. Or perhaps lie could buy her off, for ho had consider able money of his own. Of course she would prob ably be dictatorial and aggressive and impertinent and ill bred und flashy, and would assert and protest that. shR loved his father and that the money made no difference. H seemed indeed a forlorn hope — a very forlorn hope. But the son made up his mind to take It. And he did. A month later the elder Costigan, clad In a suit of ultramarine pajamas, was seated on tbe edge of his bed sucking a lemon, when at 3 o'clock in the after noon r district messenger came with a letter for him. When It was spread open to his gaze he blinked hard. Then he scowled. Then he closed one eye. Then he gave a yell that brought the servants run ning from all over the house, and began to hop around the room to the destruction of furniture and brlc-a brac. An ill-advised kick at a tumbling statuette of the Verms of Milo caused him to suspend operations and to sit down on the floor and nurse his outraged toe. At length his man surreptitiously picked up th« letter from where it lay upon the floor behind hla master's ultramarine back. He read: Dear Father: — Nora and I were married this afternoon. Knowing you and your disposition, we have decided that It is best for all of us, for my wife and myself,, to go abroad for a year. When we come back we shall hope to find you a reformed and repentant man in stead of a luminous exponent of the theory of second childhood. With a lot of love and all the respect possible un der the circumstances, * Your son, TIM. P. S.— You certainly aren't lacking in aplomb. The first Nora had heard of her engagement to you was when I asked her about it. When you become engaged hereafter don't neglect to inform the lady. Mr. Costigan divided the next fortnight between an attempt to locate his son that he might send him a cablegram telling him what he thought of him, and an effort to no phrase that message that it might not be refused at tbe cable office. In both endeavors he failed, and' signally. And he thereupon embarked once again into the Expedition*; Life, though before so doing he made a new will disinheriting his son ab solutely from all ahare whatsoever in his possessions and leaving the money for the establishing of a brew ery which would provide free beer for the poor. On a bright June afternoon one year later, just as Mr. Costigan was about to set out for his offices, an electric hansom rolled up In front of the house and stopped. And there dismounted from it a tall, well set-up, good-looking young fellow and a lithe, dark haired girl, who carried in her arms a bundle of lace aud linen and ribbons and frills and furbelows. ' Mr. Costigan, with his hand on the doorknob and his foot in tbe air, gasped: "Tis Tim. be hivins!" he cried. "An' Nora!" For a moment surprise obsessed him; and then, as slowly his feeling of amazement died and there was born in its place a great and growing anger that surged through him, from bald head to round feet, he charged wrathfully down the front ateps, shrieking like a stricken rhinoceros. The two by the hansom faced him unafraid. And as be came near them his erstwhile stenographer, with a deft little mother motion, uncovered the bundle that ihe carried and held it out to him, whereat he stopped short in his tracks, mouth agape, and gazed with wondering eyes from which the wrath had now fled as completely as though it had never been. "A ba-aby, be bivlns!" he exclaimed in hushed, thick tones. "A ba-aby! Well, Oi'll be !" The mother nudged the heap of lace and ribbons with one slender finger. "Say 'grandpa,' sweetheart," she commanded, softly. "Glug, glug," returned the bundle, amiably; and the mother smiled up, proudly. Mr. Costigan still stood staring down upon the tiny, pink-whito face before him. Then, after a long, long interval, his little gray-blue eyes blinked a few times and be rubbed the back of one white kid glove across his hard chin. "Ta-ake th' kid into th' house, Nora," he said. "Th' nolght air plays tb" divvle wid ba-abies." The son, going into his father's room that evening at 10 a'clock to bid him good-night, found that gentle man standing In the middle of a heap of ornate and 1 gaudy apparel. In one hand be held a 3mall piece of plaid vest and in the other a picture of hie dead wife". "Ol'm a gran'pa, Honorla," he said to the picture, as his son, unheard, entered the room. "An' If Ol'm a gran'pa 'tis a eincb Oi'm ould. An'- if Oi'm ould 'tis me thot sh'd be splndin' me avenln's at home wld me dudheen in me. fa-ace an" me feet In th' fireplace." He stopped to absord the full effect of his own self directed logic. "But," he added, suddenly, as he squared his heavy shoulders, "though I may be ould an" a gran'pa, Ol'm not so dommed ould but what OI c'n go out an' wrastle up a few more dollars f'r tb>' kid ylfc?-be hivins!" And that night, in the small hours, the dark-haired wife was awakened from the light mother-sleep to find him. clad in dignified white pajamas, standing beside the bed, examining by the faint light of the night lamp the curled roseleaf of her baby's hand.