The Brown Study Page 2

  II

  BROWN'S CALLER--ONE OF MANY

  A caller had just come stumbling in out of the November murk, half blindwith weariness and unhappiness and general discouragement. Brown hadwelcomed him heartily.

  "It's nothing in particular," growled the other man, presently, "and it'severything. I'm down and out."

  "Lost your job?"

  "No, but I'm going to lose it."

  "How do you know?"

  "Every thing points that way."

  "What, for instance?"

  "Oh--I can't tell you, so you'd understand."

  "Am I so thick-headed?" Brown asked the question seriously. His eyes,keen, yet full of sympathetic interest, rested inquiringly upon hiscaller's face.

  "It's in the air, that's all I can say. I wouldn't be surprised to befired any minute--after eight years' service. And--it's got on my nervesso I can't do decent work, even to keep up my own self-respect till I dogo. And what I'm to do afterward--"

  Brown was silent, looking into the fire. His caller shifted in his chair;he had shifted already a dozen times since he sat down. His nervous handsgripped the worn arms of the rocker restlessly, unclosing only to takefresh hold, until the knuckles shone white.

  "There's the wife," said Brown presently.

  The caller groaned aloud in his unhappiness.

  "And the kiddies."

  "God! Yes."

  "I meant to mention Him," said Brown, in a quietly matter-of-fact way."I'm glad you thought of Him. He's in this situation, too."

  The caller's brow grew black. "That's one thing I came to say to you: I'mthrough with all that. No use to give me any of it. I don't believe init--that's all."

  Brown considered him, apparently not in the least shocked. The caller'sclothes were very nearly shabby, certainly ill-kept. His shoes had notbeen blackened that day. He needed a hair-cut. His sensitive, thin facewas sallow, and there were dark circles under his moody eyes.

  Brown got up and went out by a door which opened beside thechimney-piece into the room behind, which was his kitchen. He stirredabout there for some time, then he invited Jennings out. There werecrisply fried bacon and eggs, and toast and steaming coffee ready forthe two men--Brown's cookery.

  They sat down, and Brown bowed his head.

  His companion did not bow his but he dropped his eyes, letting his glancerest upon the bacon.

  "_Lord_" said Brown simply, "_we ask Thy blessing on this food. Give usfood for our souls, as well. We need it. Amen_."

  Then he looked up at the caller. "Pitch in, Jennings," said he, and setthe example.

  For a man who professed to have had his supper Jennings did pretty well.

  When the meal was over Brown sent Jennings back to the fireside while hehimself washed the dishes. When he rejoined his visitor Jennings lookedup with a sombre face.

  "Life's just what that card a fellow tacked up in the office one day saysit is:--'_one damned thing after another_,'" he asserted grimly. "There'sno use trying to see any good in it all."

  Brown looked up quickly. Into his eyes leaped a sudden look ofunderstanding, and of more than understanding--anger with something, orsome one. But his voice was quiet.

  "So somebody's put that card up in your office, too. I wonder how many ofthem there are tacked up in offices all over the country."

  "A good many, I guess."

  "I suppose every time you look up at it, it convinces you all overagain," remarked Brown. He picked up the poker, and leaning forward beganto stir the fire.

  "I don't need convincing. I know it--I've experienced it. God!--I've hadreason to."

  "If you don't believe in Him"--Brown was poking vigorously now--"whybring Him into the conversation?"

  Jennings laughed--a short, ugly laugh. "That sounds like you, alwaysputting a fellow in a corner. I use the word, I suppose, to--"

  "To give force to what you say? It does it, in a way. But it's not theway you use it when you address Him, is it?"

  "I don't address Him." Jennings's tone was defiant.

  Brown continued lightly to poke the fire. "About that card," said he."I've often wondered just how many poor chaps it's been responsible forputting down and out."

  Jennings stared. "Oh, it's just a joke. I laughed the first timeI saw it."

  "And the second time?"

  "I don't remember. The fellows were all laughing over it when it firstcame out."

  "It _was_ a clever thing, a tremendously clever thing, for a man to thinkof saying. There's so much humour in it. To a man who happened to bealready feeling that way, one can see just how it would cheer him up,give him courage, brace him to take a fresh hold."

  Jennings grunted. "Oh, well; if you're going to take every joke with suchdeadly seriousness--"

  "You took it lightly, did you? It's seemed like a real joke to you? It'sgrown funnier and funnier every day, each time it caught your eye?"

  But now Jennings groaned. "No, it hasn't. But that's because it's tootrue to keep on seeming funny."

  Brown suddenly brought his fist down on the arm of Jennings's rockerwith a thump which made his nerve-strung visitor jump in his chair. "It_isn't_ true! It's not the saying of a brave man, it's the whine of acoward. Brave men don't say that sort of thing. The sort of thing they dosay--sometimes to other men, oftener to themselves alone--is what afamous Englishman said: '_If you do fight, fight it out; and don't givein while you can stand and see_!' How's that for a motto? If that hadbeen tacked on the wall in your office all this while, would it have madeyou feel like giving up, every time you looked at it?"

  Brown's eyes were glowing. Jennings had slumped down in his chair, hishead on his hand, his face partly hidden from his host. There was silencein the room.

  Brown kept Jennings overnight, making a bed for him on his couch, wherehe could see the fire. As Jennings sat on the couch, ready to turn in,Brown came out from his bedroom, a long figure in his bathrobe andslippers, and knelt down before the old rocking-chair. Jennings, in hissurprise, sat perfectly still, looking at him. He could see Brown's lean,strong face in profile, the fine head--it was a very fine head, thoughperhaps Jennings did not appreciate that--a little lifted, the eyesclosed. Brown prayed in a conversational tone, as if the One he addressedwere in the room above, with an opening between.

  Then he rose, a little tender smile on his face, said, "Good-night,old man," and went away into the inner room--the door of which he didnot close.

  What did he leave behind him? What was in the air? Was this a commonroom, a homely room, lighted only by a smoldering fire? What was it whichsuddenly and unaccountably gripped George Jennings's heart, so that a sobrose in his throat? What made him want to cry, like a schoolboy, with hishead on his arms? With all his long misery, tears had never once come tohis relief. His heart had been hard and his eyes dry. Now, somehow, hefelt something give way.

  * * * * *

  Jennings slept all night, and came out to breakfast with a queer,shamefaced aspect, yet with considerably less heaviness of foot than hehad shown the night before. He ate heartily, as well he might, for thefood was extremely appetizing. When he got up to go he stood still by hischair, seeming to be trying to say something. Seeing this, Brown cameover to him and put his hand on his shoulder.

  "Yes, lad?" said he interrogatively. He was smiling and the smiletransformed his face, as always.

  "I--feel better, this morning," stammered Jennings. "I--want to thankyou. I'm ashamed of the way I talked last night. It was as you said. Iknew better, but I couldn't seem to--to--"

  Brown nodded. "Of course you knew better," he said heartily. "We allknow better. Every man prays--at some time or other. It's when we stoppraying that things get dark. Begin again, and something happens. It_always_ happens. And sometimes the thing that happens is that we get agood sleep and are able to see things differently in the morning.Good-bye--and come back to-night."

  "Shall I?" Jennings asked eagerly.

  "Surely. We'll have oysters to-night
, roasted on the half-shell over thecoals in the fireplace. Like 'em?"

  "I never ate any that way," admitted Jennings. "It sounds good." And hesmiled broadly, a real smile at last.

  "Wait till you try them," promised Brown.