Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

FRANK WINTER’S CHRISTMAS ASSIGNMENT. here tonight much against my will to interview a French professor who's been having some trouble at Harward. I guess it was because your sister’s name was Smith that I got into the wrong apartment.” John Waring had taken Frank’s hand to bid him good by. He now re- tained his hold on it and looked the young reporter straight in the eye. “‘ You’re an honest fellow,” he said. “Some men would not have scrupled to explain matters. I suppose you would like to use the story you have heard tonight, and get a ‘ beat ’ on the other papers? ” “Yes, sir, I would very much, but if you don’t ” John Waring cut him short with a gesture. “ Tell me what you meant,” he in- | terrupted, “ by saying a few minutes ago that you came here tonight much against your will.” Frank flushed a little. “You see it is Christmas Eve,” he replied, “and I had made an engage- ment to go out and visit some friends in the country. But 1f you would only give me permission to print what I have heard tonight I shall think this Christmas assignment the luckiest one I ever had.” “ Certainly you may print it. It was hard lines if you had to give up a good time already arranged for. Come and see me again, won't you? I begin to think now that Bob Reckford has left the city. Hold on a minute. Maybe this is he,” as a ring at the door bell was heard. A moment or two later Mrs. Smith appeared, amazement and mirth strug- gling for the mastery in her counte- nance. “ Here is Bob Reckford, John,” she said, with a glance of perplexity at Frank. Then she stepped aside, and there walked into the room a colored nurse bearing in her arms a bouncing baby boy of some two years. SI “Bless my stars!” exclaimed John Waring. “ Because old Bob had been away from me so many years I thought young Bob must be at least in his teens. Well, well, but you’ve kept the appoint- ment, haven't you?” he added, as he chucked the baby under the chin. Frank thought this a good time for him to be going. | “Good by, Mr, Waring,” he said. “T’m ever so many times obliged to you.” “ Don’t mention it; only come to see me again and let me know what your beat of tonight does for you.” “ Thank you. I will.” Frank hurried off in such a state of excitement that he came near forget- ting Professor Foufou. But it wouldn’t have made much matter if he had. The latter proved to be in an ex- ceedingly grumpy frame of mind, and although Frank tried to persuade him with his best French, would say abso- lutely nothing for “ze confound papers.” | However, Frank felt sure that Mr. Kimberley would not chide him for not getting more out of the professor when he found what he did have. He wrote out his story in his most - careful style, and felt that he could have had no more valuable Christmas present than editor Kimberley’s ex- cited exclamation when he handed it to him, just as the church clocks were ushering in the day of days: “ By George, Winter, this is a plum and no mistake! ” On his way out to the Peytons’ the next morning Frank feasted his eyes on the scare heads that had been placed over his contribution to the Christmas Universe. He forgot all about the joys he had missed by not being able to take this trip the previous afternoon, so busy was he building air castles for the fu- ture on the foundation stones supplied by his interview with the famous nov- elist. “What if I had thrown tion and kept my appoint pulled ote eco