Reproductions Reproduction 1 The Awful Fate of Melpomenus Jones

after S. Leacock

Some people find great difficulty in saying good-bye when paying a visit or spending the evening. As the moment draws near when the visitor feels it is no longer possible for him to stay he rises and says; "Well, I think ..." Then the people say: "Oh, must you go now?" Surely it's early yet and a pitiful struggle follows.

The saddest case of this kind that I ever knew was that o£ my poor friend Melpomenus Jones, a clerk, - such a dear young men and only 23! He simply couldn't get away from people. He was too modest to tell a lie, and too religious to whish to seem rude. Once he took a holiday from his office. The next 6 weeks were entirely his own — absolutely nothing to do. On the very first afternoon of his vacation he dressed in his very bast and went to call on some friends of his. He chatted a little, had two cups of tea, then made up his mind end said suddenly: "Well, I think ..."

But the lady of the house said, "Oh, no! Mr. Jones can't you really stay a little longer?"

Jones always told the truth. "Oh, yes", he said, "of course, I- er - can stay!"

"Then please don't go".

He stayed. By the time he had drunk 11 cups of tea, night was falling. He rose again. "Well now", he said shyly, "I think I really ..."

"You must go?" said the lady politely.

''I thought perhaps you could have stayed to dinner…

My husband would be delighted".

"All right, I'll stay", he said with a heavy heart, and

Papa came home. They had dinner which was great fun. All through, the meal Jones sat planning to leave at eight – thirty. All the family wondered whether Mr. Jones was stupid and sulky, or only stupid.

- After dinner mamma showed him photographs. She showed him all the family museum-photos of papa's uncle and his wife and mamma's brother and his little boy, and an awfully interesting photo of papa's uncle's friend in his Bengal uniform.

At eight - thirty Jones had examined seventy-one photographs. He rose: "I must say good-night now", he pleaded*

Just then it turned out that the favorite child of the family had hidden Mr. Jones hat; so papa said that he must stay, and invited him to a pipe and a chat. Papa had the pipe and gave Jones the chat, and still he stayed. Every few minutes he meant to say good-bye, but couldn't. Then Papa began to get very tired of Jones, and finally said, with friendly irony, that if Jones wished, he could stay for the night. Jones thanked him with tears in hie eyes and said he would stay just as well, if he wanted him to.

After breakfast next day, papa went off to his work in the City and left Jones playing with the baby, broken-hearted. He was meaning to leave all day, but he simply couldn't. When papa came home in the evening he was surprised and irritated to find Jones still there.

He said jokingly that he'd have to charge him for his board, in case ha was going to stay. The unhappy young man stood speech-child.

In the days that followed he lived entirely in the drawn-room, and because of the lack of air and exercise he began to lose his health. He spent a great deal of time looking at the photograph, of papa's friend in his Bengal uniform, sometimes even talking to it.

His mind was failing from day to day. At last the crash case, The illness that followed was terrible. Ha recognized no one, not even papa's uncle in his Bengal uniform. At times ha would start up from his bed and exclaim, "Well, I think ..." and then fall back upon the pillow with a horrible laugh. Then again he would cry. "Another cup of tea and more photographs! More photographs: Har! Har!

At last, after a month of agony, he died, on the last day of his vacation. They say that when the last moment came he sat up in bed with a beautiful smile and said, "Well, the angels are calling me; I'm afraid I really must go now. Good afternoon". And, his spirit rushed from its prison-house as quickly as a hunted cat passing over a garden fence.