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As the raft swung into the landing the mill became silent; a brown-bearded, red-shirted fellow came down to welcome me, a pair of strong hands grasped both my own and the voice of Joe Davis said earnestly, "Why, George! I never was so damned glad to see a man in my life!" The ten days' tramp was ended. It had been wearisome to a degree, but interesting and instructive.
The doctor, brown-bearded, in white linen, stepped into the car, tapped the man's wrist, tested his pulse, put a hand over his heart. Then the doctor muttered, drew the coverlet over the greenish-white face, and ordered the marines to remove him. In the moment of arrival the wounded man had died. In the courtyard next our post two men were carrying in long strips of wood.
Ah, he was a very different sort of fellow to little Spokeshave, being a nice, jolly, good-natured chap, chubby and brown-bearded, and liked by every one from the skipper down to the cabin boy.
As I caught at his outstretched hand with a half-stifled exclamation of delight, a policeman turned round and looked at us with an air of interest. No doubt he thought the tall brown-bearded clergyman in the shabby coat it was one of Uncle Max's peculiarities to wear a shabby coat occasionally was the sweetheart of the young lady in black.
After a brief silence the door was opened by a pleasant-faced, brown-bearded man, who stood staring at me in surprise. His hair was rumpled, he wore an old house coat with a hole in the elbow, and with one finger he kept his place in the book which he held in his hand. "Hugh Paret!" he exclaimed.
In a back parlor whose walls were hung with unframed paintings, a big brown-bearded man was passing teacups to women who were lounging in chairs and to men who stood black against the red glow of the grate. The big man was George Russell, the famous AE, poet, painter and philosopher, the "north star of Ireland."
After a brief silence the door was opened by a pleasant-faced, brown-bearded man, who stood staring at me in surprise. His hair was rumpled, he wore an old house coat with a hole in the elbow, and with one finger he kept his place in the book which he held in his hand. "Hugh Paret!" he exclaimed.
"I'll tell you what," he said suddenly; "name him Victor, for my new bicycle." And the name was decided upon accordingly. Howard, himself, was a worthy son of the handsome, brown-bearded man whom he called papa.
In his mind was the dread of people. The talk of the men in the store wearied him and when he went alone into the country he found himself accompanied by the voices of all of those he had come out of town to escape. On the street corner the thin-lipped, brown-bearded minister stopped him and talked of the future life as he had stopped and talked to a bare-legged newsboy.
He got up and walked into the house. In the hotel drawing-room that evening there was but a meagre sprinkling of guests, among whom I saw my brown-bearded friend sitting alone on a sofa, with his head against the wall. It could not have been curiosity to see Mrs.
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