The Old Reporter
life entirely. Two of them were becoming well-known lawyers. One was editor of a country newspaper, raising chickens as a side issue. A number had died, and some had dropped out of sight. Others had gone into different lines of journalistic work. Others had remained newspaper men and more or less healthy, normal, balanced human beings, and were certainly good friends to Billy Woods. But these had children of their own to think about, or else staffs of reporters to control.
But he avoided most of his old associates of The Day now, even when drunk, for he had an idea that they would be ashamed to be seen with him; that they talked and laughed behind his back, and perhaps some of them did. He cherished no resentment; he thought it was quite natural and right, and that he deserved it. But he used to linger sometimes in an unobserved nook by the old familiar doorway, watching the younger, fresh-faced Day reporters as they came running out upon the street on assignments. He would beam a benediction on them.
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