The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 193: what you’re looking at

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

CROWNED HEADS. found Mr. Murdoch, the glazier, pre- paring for departure. Mr. Murdoch came in on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays to play draughts with her grandfather, who was paralyzed from the waist and unable to leave the house except when Katie took him for his outing in Washington Square each morning in his bath-chair. Mr. Murdoch welcomed Katie with joy. ““T was wondering whenever you would come back, Katie. I’m afraid the old man’s a little upset.” “Not ill?” * Not ill, upset. And it was.my fault, too. Thinking he'd be interested, I read him a piece from the paper where I seen it about these English suffragettes, and he just went up in the air. I guess he’ll be all right now you’ve come back. I was a fool to read it, I reckon. [| kind of forgot for the moment.” “Please don’t worry yourself about it, Mr. Murdoch. He'll be all right soon. I'll go to him.” In the inner room an old man was sitting. His face was flushed, and he gesticulated from time to time. “TI won’t have it,” he cried, as Katie entered. “I tell you I won’t have it. If parliament can’t do anything, Til send parliament about its business.” “Here I am, grandpapa,” said Katie quickly. “ [ve had the greatest time. It was lovely upthere. I—” “T tell you it’s got to stop. I’ve spoken about it before. I won’t have it.” “T expect they’re doing their best. It’s your being so far away that makes it hard on them. But I do think you might write them a very sharp letter.” “Y will, I will! Get out the paper. Are you ready?” He stopped and looked piteously at Katie. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to begin.” Katie scribbled a few lines. “ How would this do? ‘His maj- esty informs his government that he is greatly surprised and indignant that no notice has been taken of his pre- 663 vious communications. If this goes on he will be reluctantly compelled to put the matter in other hands.’ ” She read it glibly as she had writ- ten it. The formula had been a fa- vorite one of her late father when roused to fall upon offending patrons cf the book-shop. The old man beamed; his resentment was gone. He was soothed and happy. “That'll wake ’em up,” he said. “I won't have these goings on while I’m king, and if they don’t like it they know what to do. You're a good girl, Katie.” He chuckled. “I beat Lord Murdoch five games to nothing,” he said. It was now nearly two years sirice the morning when old Matthew Ben- nett had announced to an audience consisting of Katie and a smoky-blue cat which had wandered in from Washington Square to take pot-luck that he was the Kirg of England. This was a long time for any one delusion of the old man’s to last. Usually they came and went with a rapidity which made it hard for Katie, for all her tact, to keep abreast of them. She was not likely to forget the time when he went to bed President Roosevelt and woke up the prophet Elijah. It was the only occasion in all the years they had passed to- gether when she had felt like giving way and indulging in the fit of hysterics which most girls of her age would have had as a matter of course. She had handled that crisis, and she handled the present one with equal smoothness. When her grandfather made his announcement, which he did rather as one stating a generally recog- nized fact than as if the information were in any way sensational, she neither screamed nor swooned, nor did she rush to the neighbors for ad- vice. She merely gave the old man his breakfast, not forgetting to set aside a suitable portion for the smoky cat, COMicdoo S CO@