Part 16 (1/2)

”Millions of 'em, like b.a.l.l.s from a Roman candle. He shoots 'em at every angle and some of 'em hit.”

”You've taken him about?” I asked.

”Yes, but he doesn't exactly comprehend the meaning and purposes of his clubs. I took him in one of them, the most select, on several afternoons. The same fellows were always sitting around a window looking out, others, older ones, were asleep in armchairs. I didn't offer him anything to drink and we sat there, watching the chaps in the window and listening to their talk. The conversation was not brilliant.”

”'Do these gentlemen do this all the time?' asked Jerry softly.

”'Yes, almost all the time.'

”'Don't they ever get tired of looking out of the window?'

”'They don't seem to. It's restful to watch other people working.'

”'But don't they _do_ anything else?'

”'Not much. They're rich.'

”'And the others, the old gentlemen asleep in the chairs, are they rich too?'

”'Yes, rich too, but tired.'

”'Tired of being rich?'

”'Perhaps.'

”'I see.'

”He was quiet for a long while and then: 'What a horrible waste of opportunity!'

”I thought this was the psychological moment to put in my brief for the governor.

”'It certainly is. Luckily you've got a career waiting for you.'

”'But if riches only lead to this, Uncle Jack, I'm pretty sure I'd much rather be poor.'

”'There isn't much chance of your getting _that_ wish,' I laughed.

”'Well, I could give my money away,' he said. I looked at him quickly, for his tone was very earnest.

”'That won't do, my boy. Indiscriminate giving may be very injurious.'

”'I can't understand that.'

”A few nights later a beggar touched his arm as he pa.s.sed. The man said he was hungry and looked it. Jerry gave him his pocketbook. The fellow glanced at the pocketbook and then at Jerry as though he thought the boy was crazy and bolted without a word. Jerry watched him out of sight. 'Might at least have said ”Thank you,”' he murmured. He didn't speak of giving away money for awhile.

”A night or two later he had an experience of another sort. It was after the theater, the least noxious play I could discover on the bills. Two women met us in a dark cross street. I saw Jerry stop and stare at one of them. That was unusual. I urged him to go on but he stopped and listened.

”'In an awful hurry, ain't you, dearie?' one of the girls asked.

”'Why, no, not at all,' says Jerry, politely taking off his hat. And then as her appellation struck him: 'I think you must have mistaken me for someone else.'