Rolling Stones

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O Henry. Rolling Stones

INTRODUCTION

THE DREAM

A RULER OF MEN

THE ATAVISM OF JOHN TOM LITTLE BEAR

HELPING THE OTHER FELLOW

II

III

IV

THE MARIONETTES

THE MARQUIS AND MISS SALLY

A FOG IN SANTONE

THE FRIENDLY CALL

A DINNER AT –3

SOUND AND FURY

TICTOCQ

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

TRACKED TO DOOM

A SNAPSHOT AT THE PRESIDENT

AN UNFINISHED CHRISTMAS STORY

THE UNPROFITABLE SERVANT

ARISTOCRACY VERSUS HASH

THE PRISONER OF ZEMBLA

A STRANGE STORY

FICKLE FORTUNE OR HOW GLADYS HUSTLED

AN APOLOGY

LORD OAKHURST'S CURSE

I

II

III – THE CURSE

BEXAR SCRIP NO. 2692

QUERIES AND ANSWERS

POEMS

THE PEWEE

NOTHING TO SAY

THE MURDERER

SOME POSTSCRIPTS

TWO PORTRAITS

A CONTRIBUTION

THE OLD FARM

VANITY

THE LULLABY BOY

CHANSON DE BOHÊME

HARD TO FORGET

DROP A TEAR IN THIS SLOT

TAMALES

LETTERS

Kyntoekneeyough Ranch, November 31, 1883

To Dr. W. P. Beall

To Dr. W. P. Beall

To Dr. W. P. Beall

AN EARLY PARABLE

THE STORY OF "HOLDING UP A TRAIN"

Отрывок из книги

This the twelfth and final volume of O. Henry's work gets its title from an early newspaper venture of which he was the head and front. On April 28, 1894, there appeared in Austin, Texas, volume 1, number 3, of The Rolling Stone, with a circulation greatly in excess of that of the only two numbers that had gone before. Apparently the business office was encouraged. The first two issues of one thousand copies each had been bought up. Of the third an edition of six thousand was published and distributed free, so that the business men of Austin, Texas, might know what a good medium was at hand for their advertising. The editor and proprietor and illustrator of The Rolling Stone was Will Porter, incidentally Paying and Receiving Teller in Major Brackenridge's bank.

Perhaps the most characteristic feature of the paper was "The Plunkville Patriot," a page each week – or at least with the regularity of the somewhat uncertain paper itself – purporting to be reprinted from a contemporary journal. The editor of the Plunkville Patriot was Colonel Aristotle Jordan, unrelenting enemy of his enemies. When the Colonel's application for the postmastership in Plunkville is ignored, his columns carry a bitter attack on the administration at Washington. With the public weal at heart, the Patriot announces that "there is a dangerous hole in the front steps of the Elite saloon." Here, too, appears the delightful literary item that Mark Twain and Charles Egbert Craddock are spending the summer together in their Adirondacks camp. "Free," runs its advertising column, "a clergyman who cured himself of fits will send one book containing 100 popular songs, one repeating rifle, two decks easywinner cards and 1 liver pad free of charge for $8. Address Sucker & Chump, Augusta, Me." The office moves nearly every week, probably in accordance with the time-honored principle involving the comparative ease of moving and paying rent. When the Colonel publishes his own candidacy for mayor, he further declares that the Patriot will accept no announcements for municipal offices until after "our" (the editor's) canvass. Adams & Co., grocers, order their $2.25 ad. discontinued and find later in the Patriot this estimate of their product: "No less than three children have been poisoned by eating their canned vegetables, and J. O. Adams, the senior member of the firm, was run out of Kansas City for adulterating codfish balls. It pays to advertise." Here is the editorial in which the editor first announces his campaign: "Our worthy mayor, Colonel Henry Stutty, died this morning after an illness of about five minutes, brought on by carrying a bouquet to Mrs. Eli Watts just as Eli got in from a fishing trip. Ten minutes later we had dodgers out announcing our candidacy for the office. We have lived in Plunkville going on five years and have never been elected anything yet. We understand the mayor business thoroughly and if elected some people will wish wolves had stolen them from their cradles…"

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"''Twill be strange,' said O'Connor smiling, 'if I don't have all the jobs handed to me on a silver salver to pick what I choose. I've been the brains of the scheme, and when the fighting opens I guess I won't be in the rear rank. Who managed it so our troops could get arms smuggled into this country? Didn't I arrange it with a New York firm before I left there? Our financial agents inform me that 20,000 stands of Winchester rifles have been delivered a month ago at a secret place up coast and distributed among the towns. I tell you, Bowers, the game is already won.'

"Well, that kind of talk kind of shook my disbelief in the infallibility of the serious Irish gentleman soldier of fortune. It certainly seemed that the patriotic grafters had gone about the thing in a business way. I looked upon O'Connor with more respect, and began to figure on what kind of uniform I might wear as Secretary of War.

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