As a rule he followed no special line in his pursuit of knowledge, but with true catholicity of taste, took the items as they came, turning from a strenuous round with “Abbeys and Abbots,” to enter with fervor into the wilds of “Abyssinia.” The straw which served as bookmark pointed to-day to “Ants,” and [p136] ordinarily Mr. Opp would have attacked the subject with all the enthusiasm of an entomologist. But even the best regulated minds will at times play truant, and Mr. Opp’s had taken a flying leap and skipped six hundred and thirty-two pages, landing recklessly in the middle of “Young Lochinvar.” For the encyclopedia, in its laudable endeavor not only to cover all intellectual requirements, but also to add the crowning grace of culture, had appended a collection of poems under the title “Favorites, Old and New.”
Mr. Opp, thus a-wing on the winds of poesy, had sipped his tepid coffee and nibbled his burnt toast in fine abstraction until he came upon a selection which his soul recognized. He had found words to the music that was ringing in his heart. It was then that he propped the book open before him, and determined not to close it until he had made the lines his own.
Later, as he trudged along the road to town, he repeated the verses to himself, [p137] patiently referring again and again to the note-book in which he had copied the first words of each line.
At the office door he regretfully dismounted from Pegasus, and resolutely turned his attention to the business of the day. His desire was to complete the week’s work by noon, spend the afternoon at home in necessary preparation for the coming guest, and have the following day, which was Saturday, free to devote to the interest of the oil company.
In order to accomplish this, expedition was necessary, and Mr. Opp, being more bountifully endowed by nature with energy than with any other quality, fell to work with a will. His zeal, however, interfered with his progress, and he found himself in the embarrassing condition of a machine which is geared too high.
He was, moreover, a bit bruised and stiff from the unusual performances of the previous day, and any sudden motion caused him to wince. But the pain brought recollection, and recollection was instant balm.
[p138]
It was hardly to be expected that things would deviate from their usual custom of becoming involved at a critical time, so Mr. Opp was not surprised when Nick was late and had to be spoken to, a task which the editor always achieved with great difficulty. Then the printing-press had an acute attack of indigestion, and no sooner was that relieved than the appalling discovery was made that there were no more good “S’s” in the type drawer.
“Use dollar-marks for the next issue,” directed Mr. Opp, “and I’ll wire immediate to the city.”
“We’re kinder short on ‘I’s’ too,” said Nick. “You take so many in your articles.”
Mr. Opp looked injured. “I very seldom or never begin on an ‘I,’” he said indignantly.