THE READER OF MEN

Dominion, Volume 14, Issue 233, 27 June 1921, Page 9

THE READER OF MEN

A TRAGEDY ON A WELLINGTON STREET

(By

F.E.8.)

Some people understand human natuio —and some do not. There is no finei fellow than tho man who can. really size one up with a glance—there is no greater bore than the man who thinks he can and can’t. *The man who thought he could read, character stood on a Wellington street talking to another man. The other man was small and unassuming, and showed a great deal of interest in everything around him without saying anything. The first man was doing all the talking. "George,” he said, "I tell you, you can’t help noticing it. Time and again I*ve stood on a corner —Cuba Street, Lambton Quay—and watched them coming by. I can tell them in a minute. It doesn’t matter whether they have on old clothes or new, showy boots or bluchers collar or no collar. I can see what they are in a minute. Only the other day I saw a finely-built man leaning up against a lamp-post. He had a piece of cotton waste around his neck and grease on his old canvas cap. I didn t see his face, but do you think that mattered? I just felt that he was a ship’s fireman. And I knew he drank, too, because when he tried to walk he swayed. That’s intuition for you. Moat fellows would have walked on, and not cared about the man. swaying by the lamp-post. But for me, a student of character, things were different. Isn’t that so, George?” "Yep," said George, and shifted from one foot to the other. "See thia man coming along now, George,” said the first man. "See he has on bright tan boots, and a blue serge suit. He wears a fine expensive Stetson, and a silk handkerchief in his breast pocket. Bo you see that bag? Well just by looking at the keen face, the bag, and the silk handkerchief, I can tell he’s a commercial traveller, and a jolly good one at that. I d like to have him working for me, if my business was big enough. . . ■ "Er . . . .” began George, but the other man grabbed him by the arm and the rest of the sentence remained unfinished. Before he knew it, he was rushed across the road, and placed on the curbing in front of a pawnbroker’s shop. "George,’’ said tho first man, "you should be very glad indeed that you met me to-day. We’re going to see one of life’s tragedies. You see this jeweller’s shop, a few yards down the street? Well, just two minutes ago I saw an old, shabby man, with a parcel under his arm, walk in. Something’s going to happen, so we’ll watch." George looked uncomfortable. "Lcmme tell you,” he commenced; but the restraining arm silenced him. "Sh-h-h-h," whispered the student of human nature, hoarse with excitement. "Here ho comes.” The slightly unwilling gaze of George saw emerge from the shadowed entrance of the jeweller’s a middle-aged man. He looked preoccupied and tired, and tho hand .that placed a bulkly package under his arm trembled ever so slightly. He wore a blue suit that was very shiny and ft bowler hat just tho least "greened’’ by age. He stood outside the jeweller’s for an instant, and looked at the blue sky that he could see far up above the Terrace. Then, turning hurriedly, he 'began to walk in the direction of the pawnbroker’s shop. "Ah.” hissed the man who could read character, in his excitement. "You see, George, what is happening. Now, .you can't tell me that if you, an ordinary man of the world, were walking along this street, under similar circumstances, and saw the same kind of old man do the self-same thing, you would take any notice. No, you would do what the rest of the heartless crowd does. Lou would think just of your petty self and your own petty grievances and troubles; and you would lot a sufferer pass by unheeded. . . . That man, George, is one of Nature's whipping boys. He has tried and lost, worked and failed, baffled Ijy a force ho cannot understand.” George yawned. •'. . . A force, he cannot understand,’” continued the speaker. "Yet it is always there, to spoil his chances. You see that he has just left the jeweller’s, with that package under his arm. In that package”—here, the speaker lowered his voice even further, and gripped George’s arm with a vice-like hold—"in that package are family heirlooms, I know it. I could see by the way he stood and looked up at the sky that there were valuables in that parcel. . . And then, the poor old chap was turned down by the jeweller—for no one wants the old-fashionod pins and clasps of 20 vears ago-—so he went to the pledge shop, the last resource. It’s a tragedy, George, that’s what it is!” Still gripping George’s arm, the man who could read human nature walked to the door of the pawnshop and looked in. Tire old man was busily engaged in tying up his package, which contained several books. "Tne reading is exceptionally <big this week,” said the old man. "And I don't think tho meter is faulty. I’ll report the matter if you like, though. The company will seo to it.” The pawnbroker—a genial soul —laughed. "Electric light.” he said, “is an expensive luxury. But I’ve been here every night, so that’s where the big bill comes in. AVill you have a cigar?” The man who could read human nature released George’s arm. "Er, . . .” he said, “I have an —an appointment ” "Right oh!” smiled George. "I just wanted to tell you that the man with the blue suit nnd the bag that you saw further up the road is my brother-in-law. He’s a lawyer. . . .”