SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 122 | Next

Kester, Vaughan, 1869-1911

"The Prodigal Judge"


"I drink as much clear water as is good for a man of my
constitution," said the judge combatively. "My talents are
wasted here," he resumed, after a little pause. "I've brought
them the blessings of the law, but what does it signify!"
"Why did you ever come here?" Mahaffy spoke sharply.
"I might ask the same question of you, and in the same offensive
tone," said the judge.
"May I ask, not wishing to take a liberty, were you always the
same old pauper you've been since I've known you?" inquired
Mahaffy. The judge maintained a stony silence.
The heat deepened in the heart of the afternoon. The sun, a ball
of fire, slipped back of the tree-tops. Thick shadows stole
across the stretch of dusty road. Off in the distance there was
the sound of cowbell. Slowly these came nearer and nearer--as
the golden light slanted, sifting deeper and deeper into the
woods.
They could see the crowd that came and went about the tavern,
they caught the distant echo of its mirth.
"Common--quite common," said the judge with somber melancholy.
"I didn't see anything common," said Mahaffy sourly. "The drinks
weren't common by a long sight."
"I referred to the gathering in its social aspect, Solomon,"
explained the judge; "the illiberal spirit that prevailed, which,
I observe, did not escape you."
"Skunks!" said Mahaffy.
"Not a man present had the public spirit to set 'em up," lamented
the judge. "They drank in pairs, and I'd blistered my throat at
their damn jail-raising! What sort of a fizzle would it have
been if I hadn't been on hand to impart distinction to the
occasion ?"
"I don't begrudge 'em their liquor," said Mahaffy with acid
dignity.


Pages:
110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134