The Argosy, December 1905 — page 178: what you’re looking at

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

156 Each woman stood valiantly by her guns, and there came no lull until Mrs. Atherton at last topped her opponent’s pile by offering a round five hundred. Then Courcel was able to break in with an excited wave of his hand. “Oh, mademoiselle,’ he entreated the Delaney, “let madame ’ave ze precedence, I beg of you. I will give to you ze five hundred she awards me to be distributed among ze poor, and thereby will you gain much credit.” The sensation was accomplished. Thurlow well knew that with a story like that to float it, nothing could hold back the Courcel wave from general adoption, and accordingly the next issue of the Planet blazed out with a lurid report of the whole affair. At peace with the world, therefore, and already counting in anticipation the millions he expected to rake in, the newspaper man strolled leisurely down the street the following afternoon, to be confronted, as he approached Cour- cel’s, by no less a spectacle than that of old B. B. himself issuing from the shop. “Ah, Thurlow,” said the magnate cordially, “that was a good story you had in this morning’s Planet, and it ought to make this wave a tremendous success. “In fact, it looked like such a good proposition that a party of us got to- gether this morning and organized a company to take hold of it. We first adopted the precaution of having it copyrighted, and then made Courcel an offer to act as our manager. Strange he had never thought of safeguarding the process for his own benefit, isn’t it ? “Oh, and by the way,” he added, “vou will find that we have not been THE THE ARGOSY. unappreciative of your share in the transaction. I have just ordered a box of good cigars sent down to your lodg- ings.” Wild-eyed and aghast, the defeated promoter swept cyclone-like down upon Courcel. “Oh, m’sieu, I am desolated,” wept the Frenchman, “ but w’at could I do? Zey ’ave my wave taken into camp, as you might say; an’ zey offer me a good salary. °Alf a loaf ees better as no bread, I say to myself, an’ I accept.” It was so ridiculous a collapse to all Thurlow’s vaulting hopes and glitter- ing imaginings that, despite his chagrin, he involuntarily burst out laughing, and as the joke seemed too good to keep to himself he sat down in the sueceeding days and wove a little tale out of its various incidents. “Jf you can’t win at a game,” he said to himself philosophically, “you might as well get what fun you can out of the losing end of it.” He called his book “ On the Wave of Success,” and as it was a light, amusing - trifle, it happened to catch the fickle public, and to his great surprise became in time one of “ the six best sellers.” In short, although he did not make anything like a hundred thousand dol- Jars out of it, it nevertheless put him in such good financial position that before the year was out old B. B. had with- drawn all objections to the announce- ment of an engagement between himself and Florence. “Come in with me, my boy,” said the magnate heartily, “and VU make a financier out of you.” “Not much you won't,” returned Thurlow. ‘“ Here is one cobbler that is going to stick right to his last.” END. THE play is done—the curtain falls— Hero and villain trade their parts; The rich scenes change to smoky walls; The lovers e’en forget their hearts. And so it is with life—a play Made tragedy or farce at will; Who knows but as the mourners pray The dead find changes greater still ? Winthrop Church. GomiGcdooks (C@