gently curling smoke, and in the soft
shade of his study lamp those walls
were grand. I could catch a faint of
all—heads, horns, lariats and pipes—
as the air grew denser with the gentle
-puffing; an expression of far-away
dreaminess over his face; around me,
the drifts o fcurling smoke—a little
floating cloud here, a tiny hurricane
there—and beyond it all, faintly, I
could see those wild staring bison
heads, horns, long snake-like lariats;
and w'hat chains of weird fantastic
thoughts tore through my mind.
There we would sit; the minutes
would stretch into hours, and the
hours far into the night; but who
could move in such an atmosphere?
“Many, many such nights I have
spent. As time went by these moods
seemed to change from those of a far
away lonesomeness into sadness and
melancholy. I tried to cheer him by
long walks on the boulevards, and
into the parks and often we went to
the opera; but it was only a few
months till there was a mist in his
eye and a sadness in his face. Surely
he was pining his soul away for some
thing that was somewhere beyond the
seas. But, beside an occasional in
terest in his pipes—a caressing touch
and a fond look at each—his concern
in life seemed to have withered and
to have died.
“Finally, he was rarely at the
studios, for his Angers had become
excited and he ruined figure atfer
figure. At this he would merely smile;
a faint wan smile. And then tBere
came a time when he never left his
room, but was always at the little
table in his den—always smoking,
puffing long curling wreaths into the
air.
“It was during this period that I
happened into his apartment one
morning and after knocking several
times and receiving no reply, I opened
the door. As I entered, he quickly
thrust something into the desk in the
corner, and when he turned about
there was a tear on his cheek and
anguish in his face. He tried to smile,
but it was a failure. He tried to speak
pleasantly, but it was evident that it
was forced. His shaky fingers reached
for a pipe and soon he was loosing its
contents into the air in those long
curling wreaths, which he could do so
well. And soon his attempt at pleas-
antless died and he sank into a stu
por—ever puffing and curling his
wreaths of smoke into the air. Ah!
it was that day that he said the only
cross word that I ever heard him
utter. When I arose to go I wished to
speak to him, but he made no answer
to my words, and I lay my hand on
his shoulder and shook him gently.
He shrugged them ill-naturedly and
said, ‘Don’t!’ In a moment the anger
flitted from his face and he smiled
and begged my pardon.
“I called again the next morning,
for I ever feared that he would be
come ill, and was greatly surprised.
He seemed half his old-time self
again as he bid me a cheerful good
morning. There was not a sign of
smoke in his room and his windows
must have been open the whole night.
All that day he seemed in fine spirits,
and in the evening we went for a walk
on the boulevards.
“The next night I called, and
brought with me, at his request, two
friends. Ah! had I but known that it
was to be the last night—the last
time I would see him alive! No more
was I to sit in that haze of wafting
smoke, there in the soft shade of his
lamp, and peer through the mists at
those staring heads, and horns, and
myriads of pipes. Had I only known,
perhaps, even now I might be with
him. But when we entered I knew that
it had been but a passing wave, for
again the atmosphere was heavy, and
once more there was melancholy in
his expression. We had talked per
haps for an hour when he arose and
went to his desk and drew forth a
case. It was the same that I had
caught a glimpse of the morning when
I came in and found him with a tear
on his cheek, and a look of anguish
in his face. He laid it on the table,
and without a word he pulled back its
lid. A gasp of amazement came from
us. It was an immense pipe—but it
was not the size at which we started.
It was the bowl—the perfect face of
an Indian maiden. Ah! a beautiful In
dian maiden, perfect in every delicate
feature, and wreathed around with a
flower that I had never seen. All was
silent. We gazed long in admiration
until he moved. He filled the huge
bowl and put a live coal on it, then
settled into his chair and began once
omre to loose those long drifting
curls into the room. There was a
denser mist in his eye now, and more
sadness in his face than I had ever
seen before. It was far into the night
w r hen we left him, and he still puffed
the wreaths about himself. Ah! had
I but known it was the last, as I cast
a final look upon him.
“I felt an uneasiness all that night
and early the next morning I dropped
in to see him. When I opened the
door there he sat, leaning on the ta
ble, one arm stretched across it; in
the other he clasped his beautiful
pipe, and pressed that face against
his. I paused a moment in weird ad
miration. Evidently he had not long
been asleep, for the smoke still hung
heavily and densely in the air.
Through the drifting haze I could see
those fantastic decorations that so of
ten had bound me in fascination. A
flitting memory of countless nights
there in those labyrinths of drifting
smoke quickened my soul. I stepped
over to him and laid my hand on his
shoulder, then my eyes fell on that
face of the Indian maiden. I paused.
Perfect image! Every feature so nat
ural. ‘Breathe! Breathe!’ I whispered
in ardent admiration. Ah! that she
were alive. I then looked into its
bowl. The ashes were sunk far down
into it.' Impossible that Ihe should
have smoked so much, I thought.
Then I shook him gently. His head
rolled over on one side. He was dead!
The pipe of the Indian maiden had
done its work.
“Yes, he was dead; and on one side
of the table I found a letter for my
self. I will not tell all that was in it,
for it was a story of a love and of a
quarrel with his father, and of his
leaving home. It told that he knew
well what he was doing and asked
that his pipes all be buried with him
and the one of the Indian maiden be
clasped to his breast, and further
begged that I accompany his remains
to his father.
“I did all that he asked. I brought
his remains across the sea, and left
them out yonder on the banks of the
Pecos. And when we laid him there I
heard his old father sob to himself
that it were better that it should have
happened than that his son should
have pined himself away in a foreign
land.
“That, gentlemen, is how I came to
be in Texas. After being with this
man for such a long time, I wanted to
be where I could meet more of his
kind, and that is why I am now at
A. & M.”
Just as the “Little Frenchman” (66)
had finished the story his audience
began to leave, one by one, for each
knew that his story would not com
pare with this one, a story of the love
and devotion of a Texan.
BACHELOR PROFS. VICTORIOUS.
Last Basketball Game of Season Re
sults in Defeat of Cadets.
The cadets’ clean basketball record
fell last Friday, when the Bachelor
Profs’ quintet of basket tossers meted
out a 24 to 22 defeat.
The first part of the game was very
close. The ball shot back and forth
down the floor, but so close was the
guarding that every attempted shot
died in its infancy. Then Thornton
drew first blood with a field and foul
goal in rapid succession. Kern scored
the first goal for the Cadets. Then
Driess added another. This put the
Cadets in the lead and was the cause
of much cheering.
At the opening of the second period
the score stood 14 to 8 in favor of the
Cadets, who immediately increased
their lead, Kern, Dreiss and Washing
ton each throwing a goal. But this out
burst of speed seemed to tire the Ca
dets, while the Profs, appeared to be
fresh. At this period Lieut. Fenton,
who took Thornton’s place at the be
ginning of the second half, closely
guarded, was content to show some
of the neatest floor work pulled off
this season. Time and again he eluded
his guard with a lightning-like whirl
and passed to a waiting teammate.
Later hes hot two field goals. Thorn
ton played a great pasisng game for
the Profs. He was doing something all
the time. They say that after the
game he had to retire to the chemical
laboratory, where he made and inhaled
some oxygen in order to get back his
breath. Steger also played a good
game. Captain Driess and Kern were
the Cadets’ chief scorers.
With every seat packed and an ex
traordinary band concert, the cheering
and music made a fitting climax to the
last game of the season.
The following was the line-up;
Profs.—Steger, right forward; Fen
ton, Thornton, left guard; Layman,
Thornton, center; Harris, right guard;
Cassidy (captain), left guard.
Cadets—Caldwell, Morrison, right
forward; Driess (captain), left for
ward; Kern, center; Washington, Ev
erett, right guard; O’Conner, left
guard.
Summary;
Field goals—Fenton 3, Thornton 2,
Steger 3, Harris 1, Cassidy 1, Washing
ton 1, Caldwell 1, Kern 4, Driess 3,
Everett 1.
Foul goals—Thornton 2, Fenton 2,
Kern 2.
Referee—Dr. Wright.
Umpire—DeTray.
Time of halves—Twenty minutes.
Come out and see Dutch pitch
the next Game
HE IS A CORKER