Burned Bridges by Bertrand W. Sinclair (bearly read books txt) π
Of Meadow, Looping Sinuously As A Sluggish Python--A Python That Rested
Its Mouth Upon The Shore Of Lake Athabasca While Its Tail Was Lost In A
Great Area Of Spruce Forest And Poplar Groves, Of Reedy Sloughs And
Hushed Lakes Far Northward.
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- Author: Bertrand W. Sinclair
Read book online Β«Burned Bridges by Bertrand W. Sinclair (bearly read books txt) πΒ». Author - Bertrand W. Sinclair
Up The Avenue, In His Daily Labour, Which Was, As He Explained To The
Chance Acquaintance Met At The Ball In Lyric Hall Described In
"Cinderella," "Mixing Cocktails At The Knickerbocker Club." Only A Few
Doors Distant From The Ninth Street House There Is An Apartment Hotel
Known As The Berkeley, And It Was To A Berkeley Apartment That Van
Bibber, As Related In "Her First Appearance," Took The T He Had
Practically Kidnapped To Restore Her To Her Father And To Be Rewarded
For His Intrusion By Being Sensibly Called A Well-Meaning Fool. But
Chapter 7 (A Fortune And A Flitting) Pg 69There Is Another Apartment House At The South-West Corner Of The Avenue
And Twenty-Eighth Street Which Better Fits The Description, Which Tells
How Van Bibber, From The Windows, Could See The Many Gas Lamps Of
Broadway Where It Crossed The Avenue A Few Blocks Away, And The Bunches
Of Light On Madison Square Garden.
Edgar Fawcett Was Hardly Of The Generation Of The Flora Mcflimseys. As A
Matter Of Fact He Was A Small Boy In Knickerbockers When The Famous
William Allen Butler Poem, "Nothing To Wear," First Appeared In The
Pages Of "Harper's Weekly." But Miss Mcflimsey Was An Enduring Young
Lady, Who, For Many Years Was Accepted As Symbolizing The Foibles Of
Madison Square, And She Was In A Measure In Fawcett's Mind When He
Wrote, In "A Gentleman Of Leisure," That Vigorous Description
Contrasting Socially The Stretch Of The Avenue Below Fourteenth Street
With The Later Development A Dozen Blocks To The North. In Another
Fawcett Novel, "Olivia Delaplaine," We Find The Home Of The Heroine's
Husband In Tenth Street, Just Off The Avenue; And, Reverting To "A
Gentleman Of Leisure," Clinton Wainwright, The Gentleman In Question,
Lived, Like A "Visiting Englishman," At The Brevoort.
There Have Been Many Delmonicos. But For The Purposes Of Fiction There
Has Never Been One Just Like The Establishment That Occupied A Corner At
The Junction Of The Avenue And Fourteenth Street. It Was A More Limited
Town In Those Days. The Novelist Wishing To Depict His Hero Doing The
Right Thing In The Right Way By His Heroine Did Not Have The Variety Of
Choice He Has Now. Two Squares Away, The Academy Of Music Was,
Theatrically And Operatically, The Social Centre, So To Carry On The
Narrative With A Proper Regard For The Conventions, The Preceding Dinner
Or The Following Supper Was Necessarily At The Old Delmonico's. They
Were Good Trenchermen And Trencherwomen, Those Heroes And Heroines Of
Yesterday! Many Oyster-Beds Were Depleted, And Bins Of Rare Vintage
Emptied To Satisfy The Healthy Appetites Of The Inked Pages. Somehow The
Mouth Waters With The Memory. When Delmonico's Moved On To Twenty-Sixth
Street, And From Its Terraced Tables Its Patrons Could Look Up At
Graceful Diana, There Were Many Famous Dinners Of Fiction, Such As The
One, For Example, Consumed By The Otherwise Faultless Walters, For A
Brief Period In The Service Of Mr. Van Bibber--The Menu Selected:
"Little Neck Clams First, With Chablis, And Pea-Soup, And Caviare On
Toast, Before The Oyster Crabs, With Johannisberger Cabinet; Then An
_EntrΓ©e_ Of Calves' Brains And Rice; Then No Roast, But A Bird, Cold
Asparagus With French Dressing, Camembert Cheese, And Turkish Coffee,"
May Be Accepted As Indicating The Gastronomical Taste Of The Author In
The Days When Youth Meant Good Digestion--But With The Departure From
The Old Fourteenth Street Corner Something Of The Flavour Of The Name
Passed Forever.
If New York Has Never Had Another Restaurant That Meant To The Novelist
Just What The Traditional Delmonico's Meant, There Has Also Never Been
Another Hotel Like The Old Fifth Avenue. In Actual Life The So-Called
"Ladies' Parlour" On The Second Floor, Reached, If I Remember Rightly,
By Means Of An Entrance On The Twenty-Third Street Side, Was Dreary
Enough; But Turn To The Pages Of The Romance Of The Sixties And
Seventies And Eighties, And On The Heavily Upholstered Sofas Enamoured
Couples Sat In Furtive Meeting, And Words Of Endearment Were Whispered,
And All The Stock Intrigue Of Fiction Was Set In Motion. Then, On The
Ground Floor, Was The Amen Corner, Without Which No Tale Of Political
Life Was Complete, And The Various Rooms For More Formal Gatherings,
Such As The One In Which Took Place "The Great Secretary Of State
Chapter 7 (A Fortune And A Flitting) Pg 70Interview," As Narrated By Jesse Lynch Williams Many Years Ago.
But For The Full Flavour Of The Romance Of This Section Of Fifth Avenue
It Is Not Necessary Th, Had Stopped And Made
Himself At Home.
When The Man Sitting Before The Stove With His Feet On The Rusty Front
Turned His Head At Thompson's Entrance, He Saw, With A Mild Turn Of
Surprise, That His Visitor Was Tommy Ashe.
Chapter 8 (Partners ) Pg 71
"Hello, Old Man," Tommy Greeted Cheerfully. "How Goes It?"
If It Occurred To Either Of Them That The Last Time They Faced Each
Other It Had Been In Hot Anger And In Earnest Endeavor To Inflict Bodily
Damage, They Were Not Embarrassed By That Recollection, Nor Did Either
Man Hold Rancor. Their Hands Gripped Sturdily. It Seemed To Thompson,
Indeed, That A Face Had Never Been So Welcome. He Did Not Want To Sit
Alone And Think. Even Apart From That He Was Uncommonly Glad To See
Tommy Ashe.
"It Doesn't Go Much At All," He Said. "As A Matter Of Fact, I Just Got
Back To Lone Moose To-Night After Being Away For Weeks."
"Same Here," Tommy Responded. "I've Been Trapping. Heard You'd Gone To
Pachugan, But Thought It Was Only For Supplies. I Got In To My Own
Diggings To-Night, And The Shack Was So Infernally Cold And Dismal I
Mushed On Down Here On The Off Chance That You'd Have A Fire And
Wouldn't Mind Chinning Awhile. Lord, But A Fellow Surely Gets Fed Up
With His Own Company, Back Here. At Least I Do."
Thompson Awoke To Hospitable Formalities.
"Have You Had Supper?" He Asked.
"Stopped And Made Tea About Sundown," Tommy Replied. "Thanks Just The
Same. Gad, But It Was Cold This Afternoon. The Air Fairly Crackled."
"Yes," Thompson Agreed. "It Was Very Cold."
He Drew A Stool Up To The Stove And Sat Down. Tommy Got Out His Pipe And
Began Whittling Shavings Of Tobacco Off A Plug.
"Did You Know That Carr And His Daughter Have Gone Away?" Thompson Asked
Abruptly.
Tommy Nodded.
Chapter 8 (Partners ) Pg 72"Donald Lachlan--I've Been Trapping Partners With Him, Y'know--Donald
Was Home A Month Or So Since. Told Me When He Came Back That The Carrs
Were Gone. I Wasn't Surprised."
"No?" Thompson Could Not Forbear An Inquiring Inflection On The
Monosyllable.
"No," Tommy Continued A Bit Wistfully. "I Was Talking To Carr A Few Days
After You And I Had That--That Little Argument Of Ours." He Smiled. "He
Told Me Then That After Fifteen Years Up Here He Was Inclined To Try
Civilization Again. Mostly To Give Sophie A Chance To See What The World
Was Like, I Imagine. I Gathered From His Talk That Some Sort Of Windfall
Was Coming His Way. But I Daresay You Know More About It Than I Do."
"No," Thompson Replied. "I've Been Away--A Hundred Miles North Of
Pachugan--For Two Months. I Didn't Know Anything About It Till
To-Night."
Tommy Looked At Him Keenly.
"Jolted You, Eh, Old Man?" There Was A Quiet Sympathy In His Tone.
"A Little," Thompson Admitted Grimly. "But I'm Getting Used To Jolts. I
Had No Claim On--On Them."
"We Both Lost Out," Tommy Ashe Said Thoughtfully. "Sophie Carr Is One
Woman In Ten Thousand. I Think She's The Most Remarkable Girl I Ever
Came Across Anywhere. She Knows What She Wants, And Neither Of Us Quite
Measured Up. She Liked Me Too--But She Wouldn't Marry Me. Before You
Came She Tried To Convince Me Of That. And I Wasn't Slow To See That You
Interested Her, That As A Man She Gave You A Good Deal Of Thought,
Although Your--Er--Your Profession's One She Rather Makes Light Of.
Women Are Queer. I Didn't Know But You Might Have Taken Her By Storm.
And Then Again, I Rather Imagined She'd Back Off When You Got Serious."
"I Was A Fool," Thompson Muttered.
"I Wouldn't Say That," Tommy Responded Gently. "A Man Couldn't Resist
Her. I've Known A Lot Of Women One Way And Another. I Never Knew One
Could Hold A Candle To Her. She Has A Mind Like A Steel Trap, That Girl.
She Understood Things In A Flash, Moods And All That. She'd Make A Real
Chum, As Well As A Wife. Most Women Aren't, Y'know. They're Generally
Just One Or The Other. No, I'd Never Call Myself A Fool For Liking
Sophie Too Well. In Fact A Man Would Be A Fool If He Didn't.
"She Likes Men Too," Tommy Went On Musingly. "She Knew It. I Suppose
She'll Be Friendly And Curious And Chummy, And Hurt Men Without Meaning
To Until She Finds The Particular Sort Of Chap She Wants. Oh, Well."
"How's The Trapping?"
Thompson Changed The Subject Abruptly. He Could Not Bear To Talk About
That, Even To Tommy Ashe Who Understood Out Of His Own Experience, Who
Had Exhibited A Rare And Kindly Understanding.
"I've Been Wondering If I Could Make A Try At That. I've Got To Do
Something. I've Quit The Ministry."
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