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+Project Gutenberg Etext A Wasted Day, by Richard Harding Davis
+#24 in our series by Richard Harding Davis
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+A Wasted Day
+
+by Richard Harding Davis
+
+July, 1999 [Etext #1820]
+
+
+Project Gutenberg Etext A Wasted Day, by Richard Harding Davis
+*****This file should be named wstdy10.txt or wstdy10.zip*****
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+Prepared by Don Lainson
+
+
+
+
+
+A WASTED DAY
+
+
+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 Project Gutenberg Etext A Wasted Day, by Richard Harding Davis
+