County Observer and Monmouthshire Central Advertiser Abergavenny and Raglan Herald Usk and Pontypool Messenger and Chepstow Argus

(Copyright.) TAKING HIS OWN MEDICINE A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS. BY ROBERT BARR, Author of "The Face and the Mask," "From Whose Bourn," "Revenge," "In the Midst of Alarms," "A Woman Intervenes," "The Unstable Many," &c. "Putting up a bluff" is an expressive phrase, even though it be slang. This is what Boomville was doing. It was "putting up a bluff" that it was a city, whereas all the neighbouring towns knew it, was merely a large village—and they said so with contempt and sarcasm. Each town was well aware that it was the coming city, and each naturally regarded the absurd claims of Boomville with scorn. Yet Boomville possessed potentialities of greatness within itself, one peculiarity of American bluff being that it often rakes in the pot, as the classics say. And here, coming down the street, was the man who would do most to increase its size and prosperity. .John R. Keening had a smooth-shaven, vulpine face-a poiier-face, expressionless aiid inscrutable. At first sight lie seemed extremely youthful he was young, so far as years went, but his worn, thin countenance was as old as the Sphinx, and as unreadable. No man had ever seen him angry, and his infrequent smile was as mirthless and icy as the play of winter sunshine on a frozen pond. He was an American money-making machine, with the accurate mechanical brain of a cash register, and as well endowed with human sympathy as is that useful instrument. A scrupulously just man, be considered himself and so he was. Generosity, however, was something he knew nothing of, for there was no place for it on either page of his ledger-a volume of adjustable exactness, which must balance with accuracy, as is right and proper, and whose neat pages must therefore be clogged by nothing superfluous. The early morning was as clear and still as if such a thing as atmosphere did not rest on the earth's surface, and yet the air was there, cold but bracing, an inspiring breathing medium, to electrify and almost intoxicate the system; a splendid life-giving air to those who were well-fed and well-clad, but somewhat too much like John R. Keening himself to those less fortunate. The sun was brilliant, the bine sky cloudless, yet the morning was cold—nipping cold-with the breath of hurrying mankind visible. A close observer of Boomville's chief citizen might have said here was a man who needed all the tonic qualities of the air he breathed. His face was colourless, the firm lips down-drawn at the corners, the premature crows' feet under the eyes, strongly marked. A specialist would have pronounced him one running a race with Death and not sure of winning. As a matter of fact, he did win, for in this plain recital there are no secrets, mo dramatic climax to be reserved for the end. The three-floored brick structure then known as the JKeening Block, pride of the town at that day, has given place to the fifteen-storey structure of steel and stone, ugly as sin, practical as straight lines and right angles can make it, which is the pride of Ihe city to-day and if that be not success, what -is ? Keening was even more merciless with Ihiinself than with the humblest workman in his «mploy. Endowed at the beginning with a magnificent vitality, acquired on a Western farm, he ha.d come to the town and used it ruthlessly. .Already he had overdrawn at the Bank of Health his balance was exhausted, but he fought on, ^unheeding the warning of the cashier. He was now reasonably rich, but he had paid the price and to-day his cheque on the Bank of Health was to be retiirned-dislionotired. The wags of the town were in the habit of remarking that it was entirely proper Keening should be on the verge of a breakdown, because he aspired to be the greatest manufacturer of medicines in the United States. It was a case of the physician being unable to heal himself. In his early days, through strict attention to the adver- tising columns of the newspapers, young Keening had come to the conclusion that the American people were the most inveterate takers of medicines in the world. It occurred to him that there was a chance for a man who would put up drugs that were absolutely pure. If he could unite the name of Keening and strict honesty, he might form the nucleus of a prosperous business, for often the life of a man depended on the genuine quality of the medicine he took and, as doses were compounded by chemists, and not by the doctors themselves, as was the custom in Europe, it would mean money in his pocket if he could persuade any considerable body of physicians to stipulate for Keening's drugs when they wrote out their prescriptions. He got very little encouragement from the drug stores at the beginning. Adulteration and seven hundred per cent. were accustomed to amble amicably together hand in hand. Why not let well enough alone ? But Keening did not trouble himself greatly about the drug stores, although he knew they must be his chief customers if he were to, succeed. He struck at the root of things, and endeavoured to get the confidence of the physicians -om highly-educated set of men with consciences. If they failed him, he would appeal to Caesar "through the advertising columns of the news- papers, supposing he could get the cash or earn the credit, necessary for that purpose. At first, in a jjingle room, he compounded his drugs with his own hand, testing, experimenting, improving. :Many a night he sat at his desk until day broke, -writing terse letters to unknown physicians whose addresses he got from the medical directory. Often ait the end of his resources, he was never dis- -couraged, having supreme faith in his idea. Inquiries dropped in from the most unexpected •quarters a request for a sample from Texas a .slight order from California and the enlightened -postal service of the United States stood his friend, 3iis unerring messenger-boy. He swore he would make the drug stores come to him—and they did; jlowly, reluctantly, but surely. He refused to give ;ecret discounts, no matter what the standing or despotic power of the customer demanding them. He was resolved his business methods would be as ihonest as his chemicals, which caused some jrumbling and dissatisfaction; but he was an Inflexible man, as they soon discovered who dealt with^him. It had been a hard, wearing struggle, but now there was the three-storey brick block in Main- street, and a busy frame factory on the out- .skirts of the town. Keening was the chief customer -of- the printing-office, the box-maker, the paper dealer; the acknowledged enterprising element of •the place, friendless, unloved, and caring nothing for popularity, but a man whose word was as good -as refined gold, who kept his contracts to the letter, J aiot a point beyond, and was pitiless to those who failed, accepting no excuse. This was the man -who approached the edifice named for him with a anervous tread, and a pain in his brow that no anedicine in his list could cure. In the hall Keening encountered his janitor, Hike Kavanah, a war veteran with an empty sleeve pinned to his breast. Kavanah had more than once shewn he was a brave man, but he was palpably afraid of his employer, whose eyes of cold steel riveted him to the spot where he had evidently been lying in wait intent upon saying something. And if Mike dare not say it, no man in the building would have the courage. Kavanah cleared his throat with such unnecessary violence that he filled the hall with echoes; his master stood there impassive, giving no salutation, offering no opening. At last the janitor, in despair, made the plunge. "Mr. Keening, sur, I bespeak yer lave fur a worrd wid ye. It's the saason of the year, sur, when one man may talk wid another more free like th,An perli-,tp, "The 24th of December. What special privilege does that date confer ? "Thrue for ye. The 24th it is, sur, an' eight <»'clock ov a foine frosty mornin' sur. And the very almanack that makes this the 24th, will give us Christmas to-morrow, if there's any luck in the calendar, sur, so be that same token I make bold to Keening saw through the design in a moment. An attempt was to be made, using the played-out sentimental regard still held in various unbusiness- like quarters for Christmas Day, to force an appeal upon him of some sort; to get something for nothing; to play upon a supposed weakness. Keening was disappointed. He thought his employes ought to know him better than that by this time, for he had not the slightest doubt the attack was concerted, Kavanah, a simple-minded, good-hearted man being put forward to take the brunt of whatever resentment might ensue. Keening interrupted his minion. "One moment, Kavanah. Do the others upstairs know of this ? They do. sur." ° You perhaps talked it over together, and they fivught I was to be persuaded into a certain course of action that would be very gratifying to them 1" Well, in a manner ov speaking, sur, that was about the way ov ut." "Precisely. And then none of them had the courage to approach me, so they got you to be th iir mouthpiece ? "Indade, sur, I've faced the guns before, an' there's nobody but mesilf at fault if what I say is offensive to ye. If none of yees like to, I'll tackle the boss mesilf,' I says to them. He may be onpopular,' I says, I an' no good at running fur affice, I say: but he understands the medi- cine trade, an' he has a heart in him if ye can only find it,' I says." "Your flattery is excessive, Kavanah, and there- fore ineffective. Still, it may be some evidence of my latent heart, that I am going to answer them direct and visit no resentment on their foolish spokesman. Come upstairs. The janitor followed his chief, feeling that somehow he had bungled his embassy. Keening, with rigid formality, requested the attention of those in his employment. His quick, searching eye found the complement one short. Where is Rogerj ? he asked. Rogers was the office boy. "He was rather ill yesterday, sir. a bad cough, and I told him he could stay home to-day," replied the manager. "Are the pay envelopes made out ? "Yes, sir." "You have deducted twenty-five cents from Rogers's envelope, of course ? Well, sir--really-I thought you wouldn't mind "Quite so. Deduct it at once, and if you feel that this is harsh supply the extra money yourself. There is no particular reason it should come out of my pocket, is there ? "I suppose not, sir." "None that I can see. Now, Kavanah here, at the instigation of all of you, began a rigmarole about Christmas, to which I have not time to listen. Kavanah says to-morrow is Christmas I svy it is December 25th the law says it is a holi- day. Very well, the office will be empty to-morrow except for one man. I shall be at my desk as u-ual. I trust you will all be enjoying yourselves a id I know I shall. You don't need to thank me for the day you get it because it is a legal holi- day. On the other hand, I have nothing to thank you for. You work for me simply because you get higher wages and steadier employment than you can obtain elsewhere. Any one of you would leave ms the moment he got a better offer, and quite right. There are no mutual obligations, and our relations are on a strictly business footing. I propose to keep them so, and the next man who approaches me with any nonsense about Christmas I shall discharge on the spot." John R. Keening went through to his own room, leaving a dense and somewhat gloomy silence behind him. The employes looked at each other, but no one spoke, and the discomfited Kavanah stole quietly downstairs. Although Keening was rather pleased with him- self over his clear enunciation of principle his elation was short-lived. He was not feeling well, and he had difficulty in concentrating his atten- tion upon anything. Trivialities annoyed him, and the new office-boy proved a fool, frightened of the boss, and blundering with weird and amazing originality. When the manager brought in the money of the day, Keening sat there looking at it in a way that rilled the chief of staff with foreboding; yet, remembering the prohibition of the morning, he dared not even advise the ailing man to seek a physician. Keening always handled the money him- self, allowing no employe of his the final touch of it. Here it lay, bundles of ten-dollar bills, of fives, of twos, of ones, all neatly held together with rubber bands. Cheques were by themselves, and postal orders in a separate packet. Everything methodical, exact, and there before him was the statement, but he could make nothing out of it. He realised vaguely that he was expected to do something with the cash. It should be put in the safe, or in the bank, or elsewhere, but its precise destination he could not recollect, and a lingering remnant of his old self kept him from seeking a solution of the problem from his manager. As he thought of the manager he noticed that individual standing by the desk, and had a dim idea that the man was speaking to him. What did you say ? asked Keening. "Anything else to-night, sir? "I don't think so. You ought to know. What 3o I hire you for ? I have enough to bother me right here without you asking me stupid questions." Yes, sir. Good-night, sir." Keening made no reply but sat there all alone in his office. The lamps had been lighted before the manager left, for the day was the shortest but one in the year, yet they burnt with a flickering blur that was most disconcerting to the bewildered man. A laugh at his elbow startled him, and looking round he saw Rogers, the office boy, standing there with a face ghostly pale, made the more sinister by the incongruous grin that overspread it. "Merry Christmas, sir," said the boy. "This is December 24th," faltered Keening, not liking the situation in the least, resenting the familiarity of the lad, yet unable to formulate his displeasure in words. He suspected he was losing his grip on life that the circumstances were uncanny. His visitor should not be there; never- theless, there he was. "Look at the clock. It's Christmas morning," cried the boy, laughing. "You're a hard man, Mr. Keening, but I've brought you a Christmas present., Not bad that for a fellow down with pneumonia, is it ? and Rogers placed on the desk a little candied lozenge. Keening helplessly put the lozenge on his tongue, and it dissolved with a sweetish non- committal taste. But as the confection melted away so did its giver, leaving the manufacturer once more alone. And now he regretted his absorption of the unknown concoction. If sweet to the taste its after-effects caused agony enough, and he feebly moaned that he was poisoned. The next who came in was a pallid young woman, whom he vaguely remembered to have seen somewhere but when she spoke he recollected with I greater celerity. "My husband had his hand torn off by the uncovered belt of your mixing machine. Everyone in town has helped us and sympathised with us but you, who were the cause of it all." "I was not legally responsible," he urged, faintly. "It was the man's own carelessness." "You are a disgrace to your kind," she went on, unheeding. "The brutes of the field are more generous. Here is a Christmas present for you," and with that she too placed & lozenge before him. He shrieked out that he would not take it; but the woman smiled scornfully upon him "I shall remain for ever at your elbow if you do not take it." So at last he dissolved lozenge and vision together. Thus the grim procession went on, one following another, all accusing, each leaving the victim worse than he found him. At last the manager came in, and to him Keening appealed. What was this fearful stuff he had to swallow ? When was the persecution to cease ? "It is a very simple matter," said the manager, smiling maliciously. "We have all been com- pounding it since midnight set in. I will make up mine Here so you may see the operation. I take this crucible and heat it with Hatred. The flame is hotter than hydrogen, and they tell me it's the fuel they use in Hades. This vile-cmelling stuff is Uncharitableness. It melts quickly. This black adamantine stone is Hardness of Heart; that takes longer to disintegrate. All these are the various bad qualities you possess, and we make a disguising paste of the lot by mixing in your Courtesy, your Honesty, your Integrity, so that there is a certain sweetness to the tongue. But inside it isn't so good, is it ? You'll be in a perilous position before we get through with you. Swallow this while it's hot." And so the manager faded into thin air. Keening could endure no more. He staggered to his feet and called aloud for the janitor, who came in smiling like the others. "Here's a Christmas present for you, sur," he said. "In Heaven's name, Mike," cried the stricken man, "close the door and let no more of those people in!" He raised his arms above his head and sank forward on Kavanah's shoulders, but the janitor was not there, and Keening fell face downward, prone on the carpet. When consciousness returned to him the strong, cold sunlight o* Christmas Day flooded the room. He was being supported by the one arm of the real Kavanah who had somehow managed to hold a glass of pungent brandy to his lips. "Have they gone ?" whispered Keening. 11.1 "It's all right, sur. Ye'll be fit as a fiddle in a few days, sur. The missus has run fur a doctor, an' he'll be here directly if she can find him, though that's uncertain, him being gone visiting more than likely. I had no idea you were left in the office all alone last night, sir." "Kavanah, I'm dying." "Not a bit ov ut, sur. Ye'Tc had a shtroke ov some sort, sur, an' sure there's not a man in the office but saw it coming on this long time past. Ye've been cruel hard on yersilf, sur." "And on the others, too, Mike." "Not enough to hurt, sur. But ye've kurted yersilf, an' now ye'll have to take it easy for a while. "Mike, I never felt like this before. I'm helpless as a child. Can you get me up on the sofa. I'm afraid I'm going to faint again." The stalwart janitor lifted him on the sofa and gave him another sip of the stimulant. "All ye want is a little advice, sur, an' to follow it." "Oh, I've had enough advice last night. They all hate me, Mike. When I was well, it didn't seem to matter but now-now-I wish I had a friend. Money isn't everything, when illness comes. Even their wives hate me, Mike." "Who, sur? Whose wives ? 11 "Everybody in the office. I don't blame them." "Indeed, an' yer wrong, sur. If ye had let me speak yesterday, ye'd have seen how anxious we all were about ye. The boys wanted ye to let up on yersilf, an' take a vacation, sur." "Was that it ? I thought they wanted Christmas presents." "The only Christmas present they'd care about was to see the boss firm on his feet again. Then everything would go smooth an' easy, sur. But here's the doctor comin' up the stairs, and ye'll have to do what ho tells yo, sur." Nervous prostration was the doctor's verdict and absolute rest his prescription., The man who for years had thought of nothing but the making of money, must clear all remembrance of the trash from his wearied brain for weeks to come. When the doctor had gone, Keening said to the faithful Kavanah: "There's a good deal of money scattered about that desk. Last night I did not know what to do with it; this morning the course is clear. Take twenty-five dollars to Rogers. I took that many cents from his envelope yesterday, so that may make a good night's investment for the boy. Tell him the boss hopes he is better. Give a hundred dollars to the wife of Plummer, who had his arm hurt in the mixing-machine. Say to her I'll see them through all right. Consult with the manager, and divide the rest where it's most needed. You are a one-armed man yourself, so don't miss your share. There, the money is off my mind, and I feel like sleeping. Do the best you can with it, feel like sleeping. Do the best you can with it, 9 and don't bother me about it. If anybody comes with a lozenge, don't let him in I've had enough." Few orders in this world are so difficult to follow as the command put upon an active brain to be still and yet live. Keening turned away all thought of money as well as he could but a certain idea kept revolving in his mind in spite of himself. His recovery was slow; and he resolved to rid himself of this recurring idea, which troubled him so he called his manager to his bedside. "Stanford," he said, "bitter medicines are disagreeable things for some people to take. It seems to me that they might be put up in the form of a lozenge, pleasant to the taste and yet effective when once taken. You see the idea ? Well, I wish you would get a crucible and experiment along that line, doing your work very secretly. Patent each important step, so that we shall be protected. I'll share with you, and furnish the capital. You'll be a rich man yet, Stanford, if this succeeds." And so, even in illness, that wonderful brain built the fifteen- storey block, the great factory in the suburb's, and, incidentally, made BoomviIIe a real city; while, as everybody knows, its possessor is one of the most generous of millionaires. For thus began the tablet system q1 putting up (and putting down) medicines. [TII. Elm.]