Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 27: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

JUNGLE LOVE. business life, and for the sad and forlorn workers who have by lack of endeavor or adverse combination of circumstance, missed their mark by insensible degrees and relegated themselves to the pitiful ranks of the has-beens. By some saving, merciful, yet fatal dullment of mind, these last some- how, and often, contrive to be content and obtain a low-level placid form of happiness. They live in and by retrospective memories. They ponder and reflect on the slowly un- _ winding pictures of old loves, old joys, and faded scenes from the days long gone. Their present is a dreamy form of hiberna- ‘tion. They seclude themselves from new impressions, new avenues of thought; and their future is misted by submission to the mistaken conviction that the call to be up . and domg is no longer for them. If you are seeking for a fallen and im-, poverished, long lest friend whom you know is still in this plane of existence, and whom you have a suspicion is hiding some- where in the ‘overcrowded residential sec- tions of the city, go look for him in a rec- tangular box where there is a creaky bed, a cracked water pitcher, a crooked window- shade, and an aoe @ an coon om ee inanimate. You'll find him m the hail- room; the sometime morgue of hopes and faith of living victims. - Better to go down im victory than to ex- pire slowly under the hope-disintegratmng poison of self abanconment to the destruc- tive action of reconciliation with defeat. By the magic of viewmeg the dear past with constructive vision, and throwing over- board the indulgence in smaii habits so greedily absorbent of driblets of valuable but wasted energy, the hermit-like roomer ‘ will immediately discover that the stigma of has-been-ness was after ail only a thought. The fact is, no one need be in that wretched condition of mind, unless they wilfully so desire. The memory of ‘that beloved one; the dimmed flame of that ambition should be honored by effort and determination to find pleasure in—work. The hall-room is the ante-chamber to im- prisonment of the best in oneself or—free- dom. Viewed 2s a means to an end of good achievement, it serves its intended purpose in the scheme of lodgment. It fits, accom- 2A 401 modates a lean purse; but it should never become a habit to those who have the power to labor for better surroundings. The money saved by them who can afford bet- ter quarters, but who too long oppress themselves with the ambition smothering influence of the hall-room, lay themselves open to insidious drain on their health and a slow seeping away of their initiative and spiritual elfen. No matter how pretty the wall-paper may be, the hall-room is a place to get out of. It is a shelter, a refuge from storm, a convenient, by-the-way stopping place, but it should never be regarded as a permanent home. \ After a while Julte’s sobs dwindled to complete silence. The reaction from her evening’s excitement, the slightly hysteric outburst caused by the lIpss of her pet, spent itself, and she felt in her hand-bag for her handkerchief. In doing so her fingers missed a tightly rolled treasure. Only that afternoon had she added a two-dollar bill, the reward of the week’s overtime, to her store of money. Now— Jufie throat constricted, her lips went | dry. -Frantically she sought for the matches. When the gas flared, she stared into her bag. Her money had gone! ~ CHAPTER VII. SOLD FOR A TWO-DOLLAR BILL. covered her loss, Artie Falwell reentered the Mog café. Not by a margin reach- ing to the early hours of the morning was his night amusement finished. After he had sat down, and as a preliminary season- ing to further enjoyment, he took a small roll of bank-notes from his pocket. They Jo about the moment when Julie dis- ‘had been earned by irksome routine; by honest, hard work. Artie never did any work of any kinship with honesty so—the inference 1s clear. “Fourteen bucks,” he muttered as he counted his “ fmd ” and thought: “ Not so bad. Eleven or twelve I spent on her. That leaves me two to the good on the deal. Silly little boob! Maybe Il loan her a doliar or two. Yl see what Sid has to say. COMIC OOO® fl S$} (GO) we