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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Wasted Day, by Richard Harding Davis
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Wasted Day
+
+Author: Richard Harding Davis
+
+Release Date: May 12, 2006 [EBook #1820]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WASTED DAY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Don Lainson
+
+
+
+
+
+A WASTED DAY
+
+
+By Richard Harding Davis
+
+
+
+When its turn came, the private secretary, somewhat apologetically, laid
+the letter in front of the Wisest Man in Wall Street.
+
+"From Mrs. Austin, probation officer, Court of General Sessions," he
+explained. "Wants a letter about Spear. He's been convicted of theft.
+Comes up for sentence Tuesday."
+
+"Spear?" repeated Arnold Thorndike.
+
+"Young fellow, stenographer, used to do your letters last summer going
+in and out on the train."
+
+The great man nodded. "I remember. What about him?"
+
+The habitual gloom of the private secretary was lightened by a grin.
+
+"Went on the loose; had with him about five hundred dollars belonging to
+the firm; he's with Isaacs & Sons now, shoe people on Sixth Avenue. Met
+a woman, and woke up without the money. The next morning he offered to
+make good, but Isaacs called in a policeman. When they looked into it,
+they found the boy had been drunk. They tried to withdraw the charge,
+but he'd been committed. Now, the probation officer is trying to get the
+judge to suspend sentence. A letter from you, sir, would--"
+
+It was evident the mind of the great man was elsewhere. Young men who,
+drunk or sober, spent the firm's money on women who disappeared before
+sunrise did not appeal to him. Another letter submitted that morning
+had come from his art agent in Europe. In Florence he had discovered the
+Correggio he had been sent to find. It was undoubtedly genuine, and he
+asked to be instructed by cable. The price was forty thousand dollars.
+With one eye closed, and the other keenly regarding the inkstand,
+Mr. Thorndike decided to pay the price; and with the facility of long
+practice dismissed the Correggio, and snapped his mind back to the
+present.
+
+"Spear had a letter from us when he left, didn't he?" he asked. "What he
+has developed into, SINCE he left us--" he shrugged his shoulders. The
+secretary withdrew the letter, and slipped another in its place.
+
+"Homer Firth, the landscape man," he chanted, "wants permission to use
+blue flint on the new road, with turf gutters, and to plant silver firs
+each side. Says it will run to about five thousand dollars a mile."
+
+"No!" protested the great man firmly, "blue flint makes a country place
+look like a cemetery. Mine looks too much like a cemetery now. Landscape
+gardeners!" he exclaimed impatiently. "Their only idea is to insult
+nature. The place was better the day I bought it, when it was running
+wild; you could pick flowers all the way to the gates." Pleased that
+it should have recurred to him, the great man smiled. "Why, Spear," he
+exclaimed, "always took in a bunch of them for his mother. Don't you
+remember, we used to see him before breakfast wandering around the
+grounds picking flowers?" Mr. Thorndike nodded briskly. "I like his
+taking flowers to his mother."
+
+"He SAID it was to his mother," suggested the secretary gloomily.
+
+"Well, he picked the flowers, anyway," laughed Mr. Thorndike. "He didn't
+pick our pockets. And he had the run of the house in those days. As
+far as we know," he dictated, "he was satisfactory. Don't say more than
+that."
+
+The secretary scribbled a mark with his pencil. "And the landscape man?"
+
+"Tell him," commanded Thorndike, "I want a wood road, suitable to a
+farm; and to let the trees grow where God planted them."
+
+As his car slid downtown on Tuesday morning the mind of Arnold Thorndike
+was occupied with such details of daily routine as the purchase of a
+railroad, the Japanese loan, the new wing to his art gallery, and an
+attack that morning, in his own newspaper, upon his pet trust. But his
+busy mind was not too occupied to return the salutes of the traffic
+policemen who cleared the way for him. Or, by some genius of memory,
+to recall the fact that it was on this morning young Spear was to be
+sentenced for theft. It was a charming morning. The spring was at
+full tide, and the air was sweet and clean. Mr. Thorndike considered
+whimsically that to send a man to jail with the memory of such a morning
+clinging to him was adding a year to his sentence. He regretted he had
+not given the probation officer a stronger letter. He remembered the
+young man now, and favorably. A shy, silent youth, deft in work, and
+at other times conscious and embarrassed. But that, on the part of a
+stenographer, in the presence of the Wisest Man in Wall Street, was not
+unnatural. On occasions, Mr. Thorndike had put even royalty--frayed,
+impecunious royalty, on the lookout for a loan--at its ease.
+
+The hood of the car was down, and the taste of the air, warmed by the
+sun, was grateful. It was at this time, a year before, that young Spear
+picked the spring flowers to take to his mother. A year from now where
+would young Spear be?
+
+It was characteristic of the great man to act quickly, so quickly
+that his friends declared he was a slave to impulse. It was these same
+impulses, leading so invariably to success, that made his enemies
+call him the Wisest Man. He leaned forward and touched the chauffeur's
+shoulder. "Stop at the Court of General Sessions," he commanded. What
+he proposed to do would take but a few minutes. A word, a personal word
+from him to the district attorney, or the judge, would be enough. He
+recalled that a Sunday Special had once calculated that the working time
+of Arnold Thorndike brought him in two hundred dollars a minute. At that
+rate, keeping Spear out of prison would cost a thousand dollars.
+
+
+Out of the sunshine Mr. Thorndike stepped into the gloom of an echoing
+rotunda, shut in on every side, hung by balconies, lit, many stories
+overhead, by a dirty skylight. The place was damp, the air acrid with
+the smell of stale tobacco juice, and foul with the presence of many
+unwashed humans. A policeman, chewing stolidly, nodded toward an
+elevator shaft, and other policemen nodded him further on to the office
+of the district attorney. There Arnold Thorndike breathed more freely.
+He was again among his own people. He could not help but appreciate the
+dramatic qualities of the situation; that the richest man in Wall Street
+should appear in person to plead for a humble and weaker brother. He
+knew he could not escape recognition, his face was too well known, but,
+he trusted, for the sake of Spear, the reporters would make no display
+of his visit. With a deprecatory laugh, he explained why he had come.
+But the outburst of approbation he had anticipated did not follow.
+
+The district attorney ran his finger briskly down a printed card.
+"Henry Spear," he exclaimed, "that's your man. Part Three, Judge Fallon.
+Andrews is in that court." He walked to the door of his private office.
+"Andrews!" he called.
+
+He introduced an alert, broad-shouldered young man of years of much
+indiscretion and with a charming and inconsequent manner.
+
+"Mr. Thorndike is interested in Henry Spear, coming up for sentence
+in Part Three this morning. Wants to speak for him. Take him over with
+you."
+
+The district attorney shook hands quickly, and retreated to his private
+office. Mr. Andrews took out a cigarette and, as he crossed the floor,
+lit it.
+
+"Come with me," he commanded. Somewhat puzzled, slightly annoyed, but
+enjoying withal the novelty of the environment and the curtness of his
+reception, Mr. Thorndike followed. He decided that, in his ignorance, he
+had wasted his own time and that of the prosecuting attorney. He should
+at once have sent in his card to the judge. As he understood it, Mr.
+Andrews was now conducting him to that dignitary, and, in a moment, he
+would be free to return to his own affairs, which were the affairs of
+two continents. But Mr. Andrews led him to an office, bare and small,
+and offered him a chair, and handed him a morning newspaper. There
+were people waiting in the room; strange people, only like those Mr.
+Thorndike had seen on ferry-boats. They leaned forward toward young Mr.
+Andrews, fawning, their eyes wide with apprehension.
+
+Mr. Thorndike refused the newspaper. "I thought I was going to see the
+judge," he suggested.
+
+"Court doesn't open for a few minutes yet," said the assistant district
+attorney. "Judge is always late, anyway."
+
+Mr. Thorndike suppressed an exclamation. He wanted to protest, but his
+clear mind showed him that there was nothing against which, with reason,
+he could protest. He could not complain because these people were not
+apparently aware of the sacrifice he was making. He had come among them
+to perform a kindly act. He recognized that he must not stultify it by a
+show of irritation. He had precipitated himself into a game of which he
+did not know the rules. That was all. Next time he would know better.
+Next time he would send a clerk. But he was not without a sense of
+humor, and the situation as it now was forced upon him struck him as
+amusing. He laughed good-naturedly and reached for the desk telephone.
+
+"May I use this?" he asked. He spoke to the Wall Street office. He
+explained he would be a few minutes late. He directed what should be
+done if the market opened in a certain way. He gave rapid orders on many
+different matters, asked to have read to him a cablegram he expected
+from Petersburg, and one from Vienna.
+
+"They answer each other," was his final instruction. "It looks like
+peace."
+
+Mr. Andrews with genial patience had remained silent. Now he turned
+upon his visitors. A Levantine, burly, unshaven, and soiled, towered
+truculently above him. Young Mr. Andrews with his swivel chair tilted
+back, his hands clasped behind his head, his cigarette hanging from his
+lips, regarded the man dispassionately.
+
+"You gotta hell of a nerve to come to see me," he commented cheerfully.
+To Mr. Thorndike, the form of greeting was novel. So greatly did it
+differ from the procedure of his own office, that he listened with
+interest.
+
+"Was it you," demanded young Andrews, in a puzzled tone, "or your
+brother who tried to knife me?" Mr. Thorndike, unaccustomed to cross
+the pavement to his office unless escorted by bank messengers and
+plain-clothes men, felt the room growing rapidly smaller; the figure of
+the truculent Greek loomed to heroic proportions. The hand of the banker
+went vaguely to his chin, and from there fell to his pearl pin, which he
+hastily covered.
+
+"Get out!" said young Andrews, "and don't show your face here--"
+
+The door slammed upon the flying Greek. Young Andrews swung his swivel
+chair so that, over his shoulder, he could see Mr. Thorndike. "I don't
+like his face," he explained.
+
+A kindly eyed, sad woman with a basket on her knee smiled upon Andrews
+with the familiarity of an old acquaintance.
+
+"Is that woman going to get a divorce from my son," she asked, "now that
+he's in trouble?"
+
+"Now that he's in Sing Sing?" corrected Mr. Andrews. "I HOPE so! She
+deserves it. That son of yours, Mrs. Bernard," he declared emphatically,
+"is no good!"
+
+The brutality shocked Mr. Thorndike. For the woman he felt a thrill of
+sympathy, but at once saw that it was superfluous. From the secure and
+lofty heights of motherhood, Mrs. Bernard smiled down upon the assistant
+district attorney as upon a naughty child. She did not even deign a
+protest. She continued merely to smile. The smile reminded Thorndike of
+the smile on the face of a mother in a painting by Murillo he had lately
+presented to the chapel in the college he had given to his native town.
+
+"That son of yours," repeated young Andrews, "is a leech. He's robbed
+you, robbed his wife. Best thing I ever did for YOU was to send him up
+the river."
+
+The mother smiled upon him beseechingly.
+
+"Could you give me a pass?" she said.
+
+Young Andrews flung up his hands and appealed to Thorndike.
+
+"Isn't that just like a mother?" he protested. "That son of hers has
+broken her heart, tramped on her, cheated her; hasn't left her a cent;
+and she comes to me for a pass, so she can kiss him through the bars!
+And I'll bet she's got a cake for him in that basket!"
+
+The mother laughed happily; she knew now she would get the pass.
+
+"Mothers," explained Mr. Andrews, from the depth of his wisdom, "are
+all like that; your mother, my mother. If you went to jail, your mother
+would be just like that."
+
+Mr. Thorndike bowed his head politely. He had never considered going
+to jail, or whether, if he did, his mother would bring him cake in a
+basket. Apparently there were many aspects and accidents of life not
+included in his experience.
+
+Young Andrews sprang to his feet, and, with the force of a hose flushing
+a gutter, swept his soiled visitors into the hall.
+
+"Come on," he called to the Wisest Man, "the court is open."
+
+
+In the corridors were many people, and with his eyes on the broad
+shoulders of the assistant district attorney, Thorndike pushed his way
+through them. The people who blocked his progress were of the class
+unknown to him. Their looks were anxious, furtive, miserable. They stood
+in little groups, listening eagerly to a sharp-faced lawyer, or, in
+sullen despair, eying each other. At a door a tipstaff laid his hand
+roughly on the arm of Mr. Thorndike.
+
+"That's all right, Joe," called young Mr. Andrews, "he's with ME." They
+entered the court and passed down an aisle to a railed enclosure
+in which were high oak chairs. Again, in his effort to follow, Mr.
+Thorndike was halted, but the first tipstaff came to his rescue. "All
+right," he signalled, "he's with Mr. Andrews."
+
+Mr. Andrews pointed to one of the oak chairs. "You sit there," he
+commanded, "it's reserved for members of the bar, but it's all right.
+You're with ME."
+
+Distinctly annoyed, slightly bewildered, the banker sank between the
+arms of a chair. He felt he had lost his individuality. Andrews had
+become his sponsor. Because of Andrews he was tolerated. Because Andrews
+had a pull he was permitted to sit as an equal among police-court
+lawyers. No longer was he Arnold Thorndike. He was merely the man "with
+Mr. Andrews."
+
+Then even Andrews abandoned him. "The judge'll be here in a minute,
+now," said the assistant district attorney, and went inside a railed
+enclosure in front of the judge's bench. There he greeted another
+assistant district attorney whose years were those of even greater
+indiscretion than the years of Mr. Andrews. Seated on the rail, with
+their hands in their pockets and their backs turned to Mr. Thorndike,
+they laughed and talked together. The subject of their discourse was one
+Mike Donlin, as he appeared in vaudeville.
+
+To Mr. Thorndike it was evident that young Andrews had entirely
+forgotten him. He arose, and touched his sleeve. With infinite sarcasm
+Mr. Thorndike began: "My engagements are not pressing, but--"
+
+A court attendant beat with his palm upon the rail.
+
+"Sit down!" whispered Andrews. "The judge is coming."
+
+Mr. Thorndike sat down.
+
+The court attendant droned loudly words Mr. Thorndike could not
+distinguish. There was a rustle of silk, and from a door behind him
+the judge stalked past. He was a young man, the type of the Tammany
+politician. On his shrewd, alert, Irish-American features was an
+expression of unnatural gloom. With a smile Mr. Thorndike observed that
+it was as little suited to the countenance of the young judge as was
+the robe to his shoulders. Mr. Thorndike was still smiling when young
+Andrews leaned over the rail.
+
+"Stand up!" he hissed. Mr. Thorndike stood up.
+
+After the court attendant had uttered more unintelligible words, every
+one sat down; and the financier again moved hurriedly to the rail.
+
+"I would like to speak to him now before he begins," he whispered. "I
+can't wait."
+
+Mr. Andrews stared in amazement. The banker had not believed the young
+man could look so serious.
+
+"Speak to him, NOW!" exclaimed the district attorney. 'You've got to
+wait till your man comes up. If you speak to the judge, NOW--" The voice
+of Andrews faded away in horror.
+
+Not knowing in what way he had offended, but convinced that it was
+only by the grace of Andrews he had escaped a dungeon, Mr. Thorndike
+retreated to his arm-chair.
+
+
+The clock on the wall showed him that, already, he had given to young
+Spear one hour and a quarter. The idea was preposterous. No one better
+than himself knew what his time was really worth. In half an hour there
+was a board meeting; later, he was to hold a post mortem on a railroad;
+at every moment questions were being asked by telegraph, by cable,
+questions that involved the credit of individuals, of firms, of even the
+country. And the one man who could answer them was risking untold sums
+only that he might say a good word for an idle apprentice. Inside the
+railed enclosure a lawyer was reading a typewritten speech. He assured
+his honor that he must have more time to prepare his case. It was one
+of immense importance. The name of a most respectable business house was
+involved, and a sum of no less than nine hundred dollars. Nine hundred
+dollars! The contrast struck Mr. Thorndike's sense of humor full in the
+centre. Unknowingly, he laughed, and found himself as conspicuous as
+though he had appeared suddenly in his night-clothes. The tipstaffs
+beat upon the rail, the lawyer he had interrupted uttered an indignant
+exclamation, Andrews came hurriedly toward him, and the young judge
+slowly turned his head.
+
+"Those persons," he said, "who cannot respect the dignity of this
+court will leave it." As he spoke, with his eyes fixed on those of Mr.
+Thorndike, the latter saw that the young judge had suddenly recognized
+him. But the fact of his identity did not cause the frown to relax or
+the rebuke to halt unuttered. In even, icy tones the judge continued:
+"And it is well they should remember that the law is no respecter of
+persons and that the dignity of this court will be enforced, no matter
+who the offender may happen to be."
+
+Andrews slipped into the chair beside Mr. Thorndike, and grinned
+sympathetically.
+
+"Sorry!" he whispered. "Should have warned you. We won't be long now,"
+he added encouragingly. "As soon as this fellow finishes his argument,
+the judge'll take up the sentences. Your man seems to have other
+friends; Isaacs & Sons are here, and the type-writer firm who taught
+him; but what YOU say will help most. It won't be more than a couple of
+hours now."
+
+"A couple of hours!" Mr. Thorndike raged inwardly. A couple of hours
+in this place where he had been publicly humiliated. He smiled, a
+thin, shark-like smile. Those who made it their business to study his
+expressions, on seeing it, would have fled. Young Andrews, not being
+acquainted with the moods of the great man, added cheerfully: "By one
+o'clock, anyway."
+
+Mr. Thorndike began grimly to pull on his gloves. For all he cared now
+young Spear could go hang. Andrews nudged his elbow.
+
+"See that old lady in the front row?" he whispered. "That's Mrs. Spear.
+What did I tell you; mothers are all alike. She's not taken her eyes off
+you since court opened. She knows you're her one best bet."
+
+Impatiently Mr. Thorndike raised his head. He saw a little, white-haired
+woman who stared at him. In her eyes was the same look he had seen
+in the eyes of men who, at times of panic, fled to him, beseeching,
+entreating, forcing upon him what was left of the wreck of their
+fortunes, if only he would save their honor.
+
+"And here come the prisoners," Andrews whispered. "See Spear? Third man
+from the last." A long line, guarded in front and rear, shuffled into
+the court-room, and, as ordered, ranged themselves against the wall.
+Among them were old men and young boys, well dressed, clever-looking
+rascals, collarless tramps, fierce-eyed aliens, smooth-shaven,
+thin-lipped Broadwayards--and Spear.
+
+Spear, his head hanging, with lips white and cheeks ashen, and his eyes
+heavy with shame.
+
+Mr. Thorndike had risen, and, in farewell, was holding out his hand to
+Andrews. He turned, and across the court-room the eyes of the financier
+and the stenographer met. At the sight of the great man, Spear flushed
+crimson, and then his look of despair slowly disappeared; and into his
+eyes there came incredulously hope and gratitude. He turned his head
+suddenly to the wall.
+
+Mr. Thorndike stood irresolute, and then sank back into his chair.
+
+The first man in the line was already at the railing, and the questions
+put to him by the judge were being repeated to him by the other
+assistant district attorney and a court attendant. His muttered answers
+were in turn repeated to the judge.
+
+"Says he's married, naturalized citizen, Lutheran Church, die-cutter by
+profession."
+
+The probation officer, her hands filled with papers, bustled forward and
+whispered.
+
+"Mrs. Austin says," continued the district attorney, "she's looked into
+this case, and asks to have the man turned over to her. He has a wife
+and three children; has supported them for five years."
+
+"Is the wife in court?" the judge said.
+
+A thin, washed-out, pretty woman stood up, and clasped her hands in
+front of her.
+
+"Has this man been a good husband to you, madam?" asked the young judge.
+
+The woman broke into vehement assurances. No man could have been a
+better husband. Would she take him back? Indeed she would take him back.
+She held out her hands as though she would physically drag her husband
+from the pillory.
+
+The judge bowed toward the probation officer, and she beckoned the
+prisoner to her.
+
+Other men followed, and in the fortune of each Mr. Thorndike found
+himself, to his surprise, taking a personal interest. It was as good as
+a play. It reminded him of the Sicilians he had seen in London in their
+little sordid tragedies. Only these actors were appearing in their
+proper persons in real dramas of a life he did not know, but which
+appealed to something that had been long untouched, long in disuse. It
+was an uncomfortable sensation that left him restless because, as he
+appreciated, it needed expression, an outlet. He found this, partially,
+in praising, through Andrews, the young judge who had publicly rebuked
+him. Mr. Thorndike found him astute, sane; his queries intelligent, his
+comments just. And this probation officer, she, too, was capable, was
+she not? Smiling at his interest in what to him was an old story, the
+younger man nodded.
+
+"I like her looks," whispered the great man. "Like her clear eyes and
+clean skin. She strikes me as able, full of energy, and yet womanly.
+These men when they come under her charge," he insisted, eagerly, "need
+money to start again, don't they?" He spoke anxiously. He believed he
+had found the clew to his restlessness. It was a desire to help; to be
+of use to these failures who had fallen and who were being lifted to
+their feet. Andrews looked at him curiously. "Anything you give her," he
+answered, "would be well invested."
+
+"If you will tell me her name and address?" whispered the banker. He was
+much given to charity, but it had been perfunctory, it was extended on
+the advice of his secretary. In helping here, he felt a genial glow
+of personal pleasure. It was much more satisfactory than giving an Old
+Master to his private chapel.
+
+In the rear of the court-room there was a scuffle that caused every
+one to turn and look. A man, who had tried to force his way past the
+tipstaffs, was being violently ejected, and, as he disappeared, he waved
+a paper toward Mr. Thorndike. The banker recognized him as his chief
+clerk. Andrews rose anxiously. "That man wanted to get to you. I'll see
+what it is. Maybe it's important."
+
+Mr. Thorndike pulled him back.
+
+"Maybe it is," he said dryly. "But I can't see him now, I'm busy."
+
+
+Slowly the long line of derelicts, of birds of prey, of sorry, weak
+failures, passed before the seat of judgment. Mr. Thorndike had moved
+into a chair nearer to the rail, and from time to time made a note upon
+the back of an envelope. He had forgotten the time or had chosen to
+disregard it. So great was his interest that he had forgotten the
+particular derelict he had come to serve, until Spear stood almost at
+his elbow.
+
+Thorndike turned eagerly to the judge, and saw that he was listening to
+a rotund, gray little man with beady, bird-like eyes who, as he talked,
+bowed and gesticulated. Behind him stood a younger man, a more modern
+edition of the other. He also bowed and, behind gold eye-glasses, smiled
+ingratiatingly.
+
+The judge nodded, and leaning forward, for a few moments fixed his eyes
+upon the prisoner.
+
+"You are a very fortunate young man," he said. He laid his hand upon a
+pile of letters. "When you were your own worst enemy, your friends
+came to help you. These letters speak for you; your employers, whom you
+robbed, have pleaded with me in your favor. It is urged, in your behalf,
+that at the time you committed the crime of which you are found guilty,
+you were intoxicated. In the eyes of the law, that is no excuse. Some
+men can drink and keep their senses. It appears you can not. When you
+drink you are a menace to yourself--and, as is shown by this crime,
+to the community. Therefore, you must not drink. In view of the good
+character to which your friends have testified, and on the condition
+that you do not touch liquor, I will not sentence you to jail, but will
+place you in charge of the probation officer."
+
+The judge leaned back in his chair and beckoned to Mr. Andrews. It was
+finished. Spear was free, and from different parts of the courtroom
+people were moving toward the door. Their numbers showed that the
+friends of the young man had been many. Mr. Thorndike felt a certain
+twinge of disappointment. Even though the result relieved and pleased
+him, he wished, in bringing it about, he had had some part.
+
+He begrudged to Isaacs & Sons the credit of having given Spear
+his liberty. His morning had been wasted. He had neglected his own
+interests, and in no way assisted those of Spear. He was moving out of
+the railed enclosure when Andrews called him by name.
+
+"His honor," he said impressively, "wishes to speak to you."
+
+The judge leaned over his desk and shook Mr. Thorndike by the hand. Then
+he made a speech. The speech was about public-spirited citizens who, to
+the neglect of their own interests, came to assist the ends of justice,
+and fellow-creatures in misfortune. He purposely spoke in a loud voice,
+and every one stopped to listen.
+
+"The law, Mr. Thorndike, is not vindictive," he said. "It wishes only
+to be just. Nor can it be swayed by wealth or political or social
+influences. But when there is good in a man, I, personally, want to know
+it, and when gentlemen like yourself, of your standing in this city,
+come here to speak a good word for a man, we would stultify the purpose
+of justice if we did not listen. I thank you for coming, and I wish more
+of our citizens were as unselfish and public-spirited."
+
+It was all quite absurd and most embarrassing, but inwardly Mr.
+Thorndike glowed with pleasure. It was a long time since any one had
+had the audacity to tell him he had done well. From the friends of Spear
+there was a ripple of applause, which no tipstaff took it upon himself
+to suppress, and to the accompaniment of this, Mr. Thorndike walked to
+the corridor. He was pleased with himself and with his fellow-men. He
+shook hands with Isaacs & Sons, and congratulated them upon their public
+spirit, and the type-writer firm upon their public spirit. And then he
+saw Spear standing apart regarding him doubtfully.
+
+Spear did not offer his hand, but Mr. Thorndike took it, and shook it,
+and said: "I want to meet your mother."
+
+And when Mrs. Spear tried to stop sobbing long enough to tell him how
+happy she was, and how grateful, he instead told her what a fine son she
+had, and that he remembered when Spear used to carry flowers to town for
+her. And she remembered it, too, and thanked him for the flowers. And
+he told Spear, when Isaacs & Sons went bankrupt, which at the rate they
+were giving away their money to the Hebrew Hospital would be very soon,
+Spear must come back to him. And Isaacs & Sons were delighted at the
+great man's pleasantry, and afterward repeated it many times, calling
+upon each other to bear witness, and Spear felt as though some one had
+given him a new backbone, and Andrews, who was guiding Thorndike out of
+the building, was thinking to himself what a great confidence man had
+been lost when Thorndike became a banker.
+
+
+The chief clerk and two bank messengers were waiting by the automobile
+with written calls for help from the office. They pounced upon the
+banker and almost lifted him into the car.
+
+"There's still time!" panted the chief clerk.
+
+"There is not!" answered Mr. Thorndike. His tone was rebellious,
+defiant. It carried all the authority of a spoiled child of fortune.
+"I've wasted most of this day," he declared, "and I intend to waste the
+rest of it. Andrews," he called, "jump in, and I'll give you a lunch at
+Sherry's."
+
+The vigilant protector of the public dashed back into the building.
+
+"Wait till I get my hat!" he called.
+
+As the two truants rolled up the avenue the spring sunshine warmed them,
+the sense of duties neglected added zest to their holiday, and young Mr.
+Andrews laughed aloud.
+
+Mr. Thorndike raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "I was wondering," said
+Andrews, "how much it cost you to keep Spear out of jail?"
+
+"I don't care," said the great man guiltily; "it was worth it."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Wasted Day, by Richard Harding Davis
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