Judge — December 7, 1907 — page 28: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

7 it A HOLD-UP IN ANIMAL LAND. TITEWAD GIVES WAY TO AN IMPULSE ITHOUT it was snowing. It was snowing also with. But within all was com- fort and expensiveness. The wild wind whirled the sharp flakes against the shutters and howled dismally and profanely. Occasionally from the street came the sound of horses’ hoofs thud- thudding in front of a rum- bling harsom or coach, the very sound telling its own story of discomfort and haste to escape the storm. Oh, it was cold, all right, and blus- tery, and if this part of it is clear in your mind and if you will promise to try to keep it in mind, I'll agree not to describe it any farther. I just wanted to make it plain, that’s all. Inside the house sat an old man, slippered and gowned. Of course he was inside. He wouldn't have been dressed that way out of doors. He sat by a fire, which was also in the house, and toasted his shins in the friendly flame, Not right in the flame, you under- stand, but in the vicinity. He sat and thought. He sat slightly more than he thought, just as in our daily business we frequently lie more than we think, But he thought a good deal. He thought of several good deals he had made in the past few days, and of some others he would make within the next few days if the other fellow wasn’t looking. His thoughts traveled back to his youth, They had a pass and could travel that way’as far as they liked without expense. Otherwise he would not have let them travel. For old Titewad (and it was none other !) had all the other stingy people you have ever heard of backed precipitately off the planks. He drew closer to the fire and took a lump of coal, extinguished it and put it back in the scuttle for use to-morrow. He remembered, with a start, that it was Christmas Eve. First he had started with a thought, and ended by thinking with a start. ‘Thus do things reverse themselves in life. Remembering that it was Christmas Eve made him also remem- ber that it was the twenty-fourth of the month, and uneasiness seemed to take possession of him. He arose and paced the floor. As he paced he was racked with emotion, Pacing and racking are almost synonymous as racing terms. Back and forth went the’old man, his slippered heels beating a tattoo on the floor. The old chap would beat anybody or anything, even a tattoo, My goodness! What a bad man he was. Finally he opened the shutter, He shuddered as he saw the swirling snow and heard the shrieking of the wind. It was just terrible cold. Then he closed the shutter with a shudder, also with his right hand. I guess he had the shudder in his hand when he closed the shutter with it. ‘That must have been the way it was. He went and put on his heavy shoes and doffed his fur overcoat. He pushed an electric button to call his coachman, and soon he Sarah- ed forth into the night. I would have said sallied forth, only I'm not sufficiently familiar with the term to use its nickname. He gave a brief and gruff order to nis coachman, and away they whirled through the storm, What were the thoughts that had come unbidden to the mind of the old man as he sat by the fire in his cozy room? He had been thinking of a widow who lived in a lonely spot in the suburbs and washed for a living and other folks, It was the thought of her on this Christmas Eve that had sent him out into the night. He knew she was aot likely to be home in the day-time. Reaching the place, he sprang out of his carriage and rapped at the door. A feeble voice answered his rap. It was the right kind of weather, and a good time of night for any one to be wrapped up, but not rapped up. Finally she came shuddering to the door. «I have come for the rent,” said the old man. STRICKLAND W, GILLILAN, comicbooks.com