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Updated: July 21, 2025
He was by disposition a thoroughly sweet spirit, and when I realized that he had gone before, and that the trips he and I had looked forward to with such almost boyish delight year by year were never more to be had, my eyes grew wet, and for a time I was disconsolate; and yet one week later I was laughing heartily at Bragdon.
"I'll read the letter first, Joe." Every eye was on Brewster as he tore open the envelope. His face was expressive. There was wonder in it, then incredulity, then joy. He threw the letter to Bragdon, clasped Peggy in his arms spasmodically, and then, releasing her, dashed for the hall like one bereft of reason.
Ellis did not deliver his message to Brewster until three o'clock in the morning, but the A.D.T. boy who rang the bell at Pettingill's a year later handed him a telegram before twelve o'clock. "Congratulations are coming in, old man," said DeMille, as Monty looked fearfully at the little envelope the boy had given him. "Many happy returns of the day," suggested Bragdon.
Surely, thought I, it can harm no one if I choose in behalf of my own conceit to substitute my name for that of Shakespeare, and I did so. The illusion was complete; indeed, it became no illusion, for my eyes did not deceive me. I saw what existed: the title-page of Hamlet by Thomas Bragdon.
Art in the person of a handsome, sophisticated youth like Jack Bragdon, who had seen a little of drawing-rooms as well as the pavements of strange cities, was irresistible. Thus far, even by his own account, Bragdon was not much of an artist. He was clever with his fingers, pen or pencil, but at twenty-six he might very truthfully state, "I've been a rotten loafer always, you know.
If it had not been for you, my boy, they might have got away with Miss Gray." "Don't mention it, Mr. Brewster, it was nothing to do," protested Conroy in confusion. "I'd do anything in the world for you and for her." "What is the adage about casting your bread upon the water and getting it back again?" asked "Rip" Van Winkle of Joe Bragdon as they jubilantly followed the procession below.
These men and women were there to save their fortunes; the situation was desperate. Colonel Drew, outwardly calm and serene, but inwardly perturbed, finally saw Brewster and his companions. He sent a messenger over with the request that Monty come to the president's private office at once. "He wants to help you to save your money," cried Bragdon in low tones. "That shows it's all up."
Fearful as I was of the results, I could not but obey, and I rose tremblingly from my bed and tottered back to my desk, to see Bragdon sitting opposite my usual place just as he had so often done when in the flesh. "Phil," he said in a moment, "don't be afraid.
"Lord, what a sour face she has!" Milly commented to her husband, when they had left the bride and groom. "Poor old Dad, I hope she'll let him smoke!... Why do you suppose he married her?" "To have some one to work for," Bragdon, who was not without a sense of humor, suggested. "He might at least have found somebody better looking." "She looks capable, at any rate." Milly made a face.
The figures were really small when one considered what the other people they knew were spending. Bragdon began to suspect that here was the trouble they didn't know any poor people! Milly said they "barely lived," as it was.
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