Part 3 (1/2)

And Mrs Peter--how happy she seeood fellowshi+p As in his old rooathered a few of his old friends around hiion In the course of a year or two he was on the very best terrocer, sohborhood, his tailor, and then just neighbors The ar man at the next corner--all could tell you where Peter lived His little front ”yard” had two beds of flowers all suarden--lettuce, onions, peas, beans

Peter was always happiest when he could be ho hi on the flooror print or a box which he was carving, the infant in so about He was always busy, but never too , ”Now say, not so s alone,” to the child Of a Sunday he sat out on the front porch s hi the infant Afternoons he would carry it somewhere, anywhere, in his arms to his friends, the Park, New York, to see me At breakfast, dinner, supper the heir presuh-chair beside him

”Ah, now, here's a rubber spoon Beat with that It's less destructive and less painful physically”

”How about a nice prust” (crust) ”dipped in bravery” (gravy) ”--heh? Do you suppose that would cut any of your teeth?”

”Zuleika, this son of yours seeht not hurt him What do you say?”

Occasionally, especially of a Saturday evening, he wanted to go bowling and yet he wanted his heir The probleht little sweater and cap and carrying hi on his shoulder, into the bar for a beer, thence to the bowling alley, where young hopeful was fastened into a chair on the side lines while Peter and myself or some of his friends bowled At ten or ten-thirty or eleven, as the case fong ainst Peter's scarf, his interest in his toes or thuiven out

”Peter, look at that,” I observed once ”Don't you think we'd better take hi! Let him sleep He can sleep here as well as anywhere, and besides I like to look at hiars, beers, laughter, and Peter's various friends as used to the child's presence and as charmed by it as he was He was just the s His manner and point of view carried conviction

He believed in doing all that he wanted to do si people not only respected, I think they adored hi who

About this tihborhood a desire to elect him to some political position, that of councilht that he would rise to soher But he would none of it--not then anyhow

Instead, about this time or a very little later, after the birth of his second child (a girl), he devoted himself to the composition of a brilliant piece of prose poetry (”Wolf”), which, co froned or constructed a great building, painted a great picture, entered politics and been elected governor or senator, I would have taken it all as a matter of course He could have Themay rise was there I asked hi house hich I was connected, and I recall with interest the comment of the oldest andus ”You'll never ood, too poetic But whether it pays or not, I vote yes I'd rather loselike this than make it on soreed then, and I agree now

The last phase of Peter was as interesting and dra forward about as he had planned His devotion to his ho wife, his multiplex interests, his various friends, was always a curiosity to me, especially in view of his olden days One day he was over in New York visiting one of his favorite Chinese ih which he had secured and was still securing occasional objects of art He had co to see if I would not co Saturday as usual and stay until Monday He had secured so I should see At the elevator he waved --see you Saturday!”

But on Friday, as I was talking with soram was handed me It was from Mrs Peter and read: ”Peter died today at two of pneumonia Please come”

I could scarcely believe it I did not know that he had even been sick

His little yellow-haired wife! The two children! His future! His interests! I dropped everything and hurried to the nearest station En route I speculated on the mysteries on which he had so often speculated--death, dissolution, uncertainty, the crude indifference or cruelty of Nature What would become of Mrs Peter? His children?

I arrived only to find a hoht There was Peter, stiff and cold, and in the other rooms his babies, quite unconscious of what had happened, prattling as usual, and Mrs Peter practically numb and speechless It had come so suddenly, so out of a clear sky, that she could not realize, could not even tell me at first The doctor was there--also a friend of his, the nearest barber! Also two or three representatives fro alley, the man who had the 40,000 collection of curios All were stunned, as I was As his closest friend, I took charge: wired his relatives, went to an undertaker who knew hie for his burial, in Newark or Philadelphia, as his wife should wish, she having no connection with Newark other than Peter

It was , the sense of dull despair and unwarranted disaster which hung over the place It was as though in ones outside life, had coliest character On Monday, the day he saw ht cold but insisted on running out soainst which his wife protested Tuesday night he had a fever and took quinine and aspirin and a hot whiskey

Wednesdayhe orse and a doctor was called, but it was not deeht he was still worse and pneumonia had set in Thursday he was lower still, and by noon a en was sent for, to relieve the sense of suffocation setting in Thursday night he eak and sinking, but expected to come round--and still, so unexpected was the attack, so uncertain the probability of anything fatal, that no as sent, even tohe was no worse and no better ”If he was no worse by night he h” At noon he was seized with a sudden sinking spell Oxygen was applied by his wife and a nurse, and the doctor sent for By one-thirty he was lower still, very low ”His face was blue, his lips ashen,” his wife told en tube to his mouth and I said 'Can you speak, Peter?' I was so nervous and frightened He moved his head a little to indicate 'no' 'Peter,' I said, 'you ht!

Think of me! Think of the babies!' I was a little crazy, I think, with fear He looked at reat effort Then suddenly he collapsed and lay still He was dead”

I could not help thinking of the force and energy--able at the last ht,” a minute before his death What is the huht so, to the very last? I felt as though so, had ruthlessly killed hiless

And there were his cases of curios, his rug, his prints, his dishes, his azed and marveled I looked at his wife and babies, but could say nothing It spelled, what such things always spell, in the face of all our dreams, crass chance or the willful, brutal indifference of Nature to all that relates to man

If he is to prosper hein the roo near it, I felt as though Peter alking to and fro, to and fro, pastHis iined wraith seemed horribly depressed and distressed Once he ca) overinto the room where were his wife and kiddies, but he could ot up and looked at his _cadaver_ a long tiain

The next day and the next and the next were filled with s His mother and sister came on from the West as well as the mother and brother of his wife I had to look after his affairs, adjusting the matter of insurance which he left, his art objects, the burial of his body ”in consecrated ground” in Philadelphia, with the consent and aid of the local Catholic parish rector, else no burial His ood Catholic and there was trouble The local parish assistant refused ood father with an appeal to the diocesan bishop on the ground of plain common sense and courtesy to a Catholic family, if not charity to a torturedI felt as if a great criet it out of ry, not sad

Two, three, five, seven years later, I visited the little family in Philadelphia The ith her mother and father in a simple little horapher to an architect She was little changed--a little stouter, not so carefree, industrious, patient His boy, the petted F----, could not even recall his father, the girl not at all of course And in the place were a few of his prints, two or three Chinese dishes, pottered by hi I remained for dinner and dreamed old dreams, but I was unco h I, alone, was all that was left of the old life