After Mr. Purvis had gone, my friend spoke out his
mind--once and once only, and more in regret than anger.
"I'm afraid," he said, "that old Ned has turned into a
SISSY."
It was only to be expected that the visits of later
friends--the "boys" who happened to "blow in"--were
disappointments. Art Hamilton, who came next, and who
had been one of the most brilliant men of the Class of
'86 had turned somehow into a "complete mutt." Jake Todd,
who used to write so brilliantly in the college paper,
as recollected by Mr. Sims, was now the editor of a big
New York daily. Good things might have been expected of
him, but it transpired that he had undergone "wizening
of the brain." In fact, a number of Mr. Sims's former
friends had suffered from this cruel disease, consisting
apparently of a shrinkage or contraction of the cerebellum.
Mr. Sims spoke little of his disappointments. But I knew
that he thought much about them. They set him wondering.
There were changes here that to the thoughtful mind called
for investigation.
So I was not surprised when he informed me that it was
his intention to visit "the old place" and have a look
at it. The "old place," called also the "old shop,"
indicated, as I knew, Mr.
Pages:
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225