Petaluma High School - Trojans Yearbook (Petaluma, CA)

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Mildred Herbert Lillian Keller Percy Mills Mary Connolly Enid Dorroh

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THE SUICIDE T TON had resolved to die. He had pondered the matter long and carefully and deliber¬ ately arrived at the con¬ clusion that there was no longer sufficient rea¬ son for him to live. He had been out of work for five months, and, because he had never saved carefully, and also, because he had never received a great deal of money which could be saved, he was at the end of his funds. He had exactly five dollars, which would be sufficient to buy a good revolver and a box of shells, and after that—. He shrugged his shoulders. He would look again into the matter. Such a thing should not be done without the utmost attention being given to the pros and cons. Utton counted his money again. Just five dollars, enough to buy—. By a strong effort he concentrated his mind. His nerves were not as firm as they might be. He took a piece of paper from his pocket, upon which were written the names of the various firms which he had visited seeking employment, in the lost two months. Not one of them had oftered any hope of a position. There were so many bookkeepers in the world. He wondered if there were any besides himself who had only the price of a good revolver. He drew a deep breath. He must not become morbid. Committing suicide was a business matter as much as anything else and must be regarded in the same unim¬ passioned light. He rattled the loose change in his pocket. He was hungry. Perhaps there was enough to get him a good meal, still leaving the price of a good revolver; after that it wouldn’t mat¬ ter. It cost nothing to visit the morgue. Yes, he would have dinner before he died. He might as well satisfy his hunger for the last time. He h a d a notion that he could shoot straighter if he were not hungry. Utton took his hat from its nail, men paused. He would take a farewell look at his room. He had not fully decid¬ ed whether he would come back to his room to die, or go somewhere else. At any rate he would bid it goodbye. How sordid the room was! He did not under¬ stand how he had stood its squalor so long. The scarred furniture, the grimy unpapered walls, the little wood stove, that always smoked when troubled by a fire, the curtainless windows, what man could respect himself amid such surround¬ ings, when added thereto were the pangs of hunger and the monotony of idle exist¬ ence? Then his eye fell on his pipe, and he thought of better days, when he had bought it. It was a genuine meerschaum and he put it tenderly into his pock-et. Perhaps he would have enough to buy a little tobacco. He would see. He closed the door, no need to lock it. What should he do first? The revolver, that must be procured before all else. He went down the street and turned into a store. A very good weapon could be had for three dollars. He discussed the mer¬ its of black and smokeless powders with the salesman and decided on the lat¬ ter as being less noisy and of greater force. He put his purchases into his pocket and held them there tightly, gleefully. The tobacco dealer’s was next. Here an ounce of Peco-Laun was gotten and put into an¬ other pocket. Now for the dinner. He went to a retired little restaurant which he had known in his better days, and back into his favorite corner. He leisurely read the menu and ordered the things he liked best. After looking at his check he found that he still had some change, and with this he tipped the waiter. At the 19