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Fuller, Henry Blake, 1857-1929

"Bertram Cope's Year"

"
"That listens good--as the young fellows say," replied Cope. "A not
uncommon ideal, possibly; but I'm glad that some man, now and then, is able
to realize it."
"I should hope to see you there," said Randolph intently.
"Thank you, indeed. Yes, while my time lasts. But my own lease is like your
landlord's--short. Next year,--who knows where?"
"Why not here?"
"Oh!" Cope shrugged, as if conscious of the need of something better, and
of presently deserving it. "Some big university in the East?" wondered
Randolph to himself. Well, the transfer, if it came, was still a long way
ahead.
As he walked home to dinner he entertained himself by imagining his new
regime. There would be an alert, intelligent Jap, who, in some miraculous
way, could "do for him" between his studies. There would be a cozy dining-
room where three or four fellows could have a snug little dinner, with
plenty of good talk during it and after it. There would be, finally, a
convenient little spare room, wherein a young knight, escaped from some
"Belle Dame sans Merci," might lean his sword against the wardrobe, prop
his greaves along the baseboard, lay his steel gauntlets neatly on the top
of the dresser, fold his hands over the turned-down sheet of a neat three-
quarter-width brass bedstead, and with a satisfied sigh of utter well-being
pass away into sleep.


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