Judge — April 24, 1915 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

at home coaling the furnace or putting the baby to bed. I couldn’t tell her that almost the only sincere Bohemians I ever saw were manicure girls. I hadn't the heart. “**All right, aunty,’ I'said. ‘Get on your things and we will start right along.’ “**It must be small,’ I thought, ‘and one “* Sir! how dare you address me! Stand aside and let me pass!’ is as good as another, for all the celebrated authors I can find. As for the illustrators, if any are dining out to-night, they would be at the St. Regent.’ “*My aunt’s eyes gleamed with enthusi- asm as we entered the dingy room in one of Denman's eating places, and she was de- lighted as we took our seats and I started out to do my own serving. I think that her attitude of mind would have sprinkled the tinsel dust of Bohemia over the floor and furniture of any establishment, but somehow this seemed especially to fit her fancy. “Thad nodded familiarly to the cashier as I came in, and the cashier had nodded back in a most satisfactory fashion—a good beginning, at any rate. Just now there en- tered a roughly dressed individual in high boots. I think he may have been an en- gineer on some neighboring construction work. Inspiration seized me; I nudged my aunt. ‘There goes Erving Macheller,’ I whispered. ‘Wrote ‘‘Heben Olden’’—all that sort of thing. Great woodsman—never could get him into civilized clothes.’ I nodded to him familiarly. He glanced at me with some surprise, glanced at my aunt, included us both in a very courteous bow and departed for his chair, with a large bowl of crackers and milk in his hands, ‘Nice fellow,’ I whispered to my aunt; ‘but solitary.” “Success on this first trial made me over- confident. My aunt was fairly glowing with delight. Several people had entered the restaurant, but none served my purpose. Just then a bent old man passed the desk. His hair was gray and so long that it spread out upon his shoulders; he had an alert though soiled face and a bright eye. He was distinctly a character. Again I nudged my aunt. ‘There goes John Montgomery Glagg, the artist,’ I whispered; and as he passed our chairs, I nodded cordially to him. My smile and bow met instant re- spon: His face lit up, he bowed wit emphasis and immediately placed his frayed old hat in the chair next to mine. ‘Matters were perhaps approaching a crisis, but I determined to die in a blaze of glory. People were crowding in now, and I named them as rapidly as my excited imagination permitted. I found it hard to explain why Charles Denny Hibson kept his hat on and to justify George Bart Mc- Hutcheon’s habit of eating with his knife, but my aunt's firm belief in the eccentric- ities of genius and the constant distraction of her attention by some new arrival helped me amazingly. I was disturbed in my cat- aloguing by a constant nudging of my elbow by the soiled old gentleman on my left. wanted to suppress him as far as Possible, as there seemed very little opportunity to tell him his name. Finally I found an op- portunity to turn to him, while my aunt absorbedly watched Dr. Lyman Babbott and Mr. Hamilton Wright Perhaps as they de- voured surprisingly large mouthfuls of Denman’s most popular viands—‘ coffee and sinkers." ‘**What do you want?’ I said impatiently to John Montgomery Glagg. He beamed upon me cordially. “**Old friend,’ he answered, in a very small voice, ‘didn’t suppose I'd ever see you again. Lend me a quarter.’ I felt that his services were worth it. I pokeda quarter into his hand before aunty had turned for more information. **Just as I was pointing out a sharp-faced little man with fierce mustaches as Irving Hobb, the war correspondent, and his weather-beaten neighbor with the chin whiskers as Joseph Clincoln, a most sur- prising thing happened. I saw coming in at the door in their actual human forms Mr. Willis Butler Parker and Tom Mason, the eminent humorists. Scarcely believing my eyes, I actually ran half way across the room to greet them. They received me gravely. I think they felt I was embar- rassed to be found dining with an old lady at Denman’s. Of course I introduced them at once to my aunt. There were no seats near us, but they stood and chatted pleas- antly for a few moments while I went over to the counter and selected dessert. I was gone as long as possible, for I felt that the A TURKISH RUNABOUT