Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 179: what you’re looking at

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

F you had seen Charley Frisbee, that cold winter night—Mr. Charles Warren Fris- bee, he used to be—slinking along the deserted street in his threadbare coat, you would never have guessed that, by all the rules, he should have been a most fortunate man. His appearance did not indicate it. Yet, if worshiping faithfully at the shrine of the mysterious Goddess of Luck, whoever she may be; if observing all the signs and: omens by which a prudent man is warned of the approach of evil; if per- forming all the little rites that are supposed to ward off misfortune and bring good luck —if these things are to be properly reward- ed, Charley Frisbee should have been For- tune’s favorite child. His figure was tall and spare, and his thin, black coat seemed scanty protection in the chilling wind. His face habitually wore an apologetic smile, as if he were apol- ogizing to the world in general for the fact that his signs and omens had brought him no better fortune. Nevertheless, repeated disappointment never disturbed his faith, and for the frequent failure of his signs he always had an excuse. Some men go after bad luck like a ter- rier after a rat. With angry growls they attack it fiercely, and it is a fight to a fin- ish. Such bold spirits believe they are mas- ters of their fate and captains of their souls, and will fight to prove it. Lloyd Kinmundy But others, like our friend Charley Fris- bee, take a more propitiating course, and try, by friendly concessions to unseen pow- ers, to avert the arrows of outrageous for- tune, and secure the patronizing friendship of a lucky star. So when Charley lost in the crap game, or when pitching pennies went against him, he never got mad and kicked things over, and swore it was a rotten game, and. that he’d never play again, as you or I would do—that might give him bad luck—he just smiled an apologetic smile for having been in at the wrong time, and patiently won- dered what omen he could possibly have overlooked that would have warned him of disaster. Like this was Charley Frisbee. By all the little attentions and ceremonies which, tradition. tells us, ward off evil and secure good luck, he tried to win the favor of the Goddess of Fortune, and secure a safe and happy passage through this parlous vale of tears. Charley had a rather good situation as collector of bills for a small mercantile house; but one day, when he was just out- side the office door, starting on his daily rounds, he was called back to receive an- other document which had been overlooked when the usual batch of bills had been handed to him that morning. This made it necessary — as everybody 345 Gomirchbooks