The Goldfish E-Book

Arthur Train

• Herausgeber: Arthur Train
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

Arthur Train (6 September 1875 – 22 December 1945), also called Arthur Chesney Train, was an American lawyer and legal thriller writer, particularly known for his novels of courtroom intrigue and the creation of the fictional lawyer Mr Ephraim Tutt.Train was born in Boston, Massachusetts. His father was lawyer Charles Russell Train, who served for many years as attorney general of Massachusetts, and his mother was Sara Maria Cheney. Train graduated with a BA from Harvard University in 1896 and LLB from Harvard Law School in 1899.In 1897, Train married Ethel Kissam. They had four children. Ethel died in 1923 and Train married Helen Coster Gerard, with whom he had one child, John Train.In January 1901, Train became assistant in the office of the New York District Attorney. In 1904 he started his literary career with the publication of the short story "The Maximilian Diamond" in Leslie's Monthly. He ran the two careers in parallel until 1908 when he left the District Attorney's office to open a general law practice in the Mutual Life Building at 34 Nassau Street in New York City. His 1907 novel, Mortmain, was one of the earliest works in the alien hand syndrome genre and was adapted into a 1915 film of the same name that is now lost.From 1915 to 1922, Train was in private practice as a lawyer with Charles Albert Perkins while continuing to write, not just novels but short stories, plays, and journalism. In 1919, he created the popular character of Mr. Ephraim Tutt, a wily old lawyer who supported the common man and always had a trick up his sleeve to right the law's injustices. Train wrote dozens of stories about Tutt in the Saturday Evening Post. The fictional Ephraim Tutt became "the best known lawyer in America," particularly after the appearance of Yankee Lawyer, an immensely popular book that purported to be Tutt's autobiography. He also coauthored two science fiction novels with eminent physicist Robert W. Wood.[3] After 1922, Train devoted himself to writing (font: Wikipedia)

Leseprobe

The Goldfish

Arthur Train

CONTENTS

MYSELF

MY FRIENDS

MY CHILDREN

MY MIND

MY MORALS

MY FUTURE

CHAPTER I

MYSELF

"My house, my affairs, my ache and my religion—"

I was fifty years old to-day. Half a century has hurried by since I first lay in my mother's wondering arms. To be sure, I am not old; but I can no longer deceive myself into believing that I am still young. After all, the illusion of youth is a mental habit consciously encouraged to defy and face down the reality of age. If, at twenty, one feels that he has reached man's estate he, nevertheless, tests his strength and abilities, his early successes or failures, by the temporary and fictitious standards of youth.

At thirty a professional man is younger than the business man of twenty-five. Less is expected of him; his work is less responsible; he has not been so long on his job. At forty the doctor or lawyer may still achieve an unexpected success. He has hardly won his spurs, though in his heart he well knows his own limitations. He can still say: "I am young yet!" And he is.

But at fifty! Ah, then he must face the facts! He either has or has not lived up to his expectations and he never can begin over again. A creature of physical and mental habit, he must for the rest of his life trudge along in the same path, eating the same food, thinking the same thoughts, seeking the same pleasures—until he acknowledges with grim reluctance that he is an old man.

I confess that I had so far deliberately tried to forget my approaching fiftieth milestone, or at least to dodge it with closed eyes as I passed it by, that my daughter's polite congratulation on my demicentennial anniversary gave me an unexpected and most unpleasant shock.

"You really ought to be ashamed of yourself!" she remarked as she joined me at breakfast.

"Why?" I asked, somewhat resenting being thus definitely proclaimed as having crossed into the valley of the shadows.

"To be so old and yet to look so young!" she answered, with charming voir-faire.

Then I knew the reason of my resentment against fate. It was because I was labeled as old while, in fact, I was still young. Of course that was it. Old? Ridiculous! When my daughter was gone I gazed searchingly at myself in the mirror. Old? Nonsense!

I saw a man with no wrinkles and only a few crow's-feet such as anybody might have had; with hardly a gray hair on my temples and with not even a suggestion of a bald spot. My complexion and color were good and denoted vigorous health; my flesh was firm and hard on my cheeks; my teeth were sound, even and white; and my eyes were clear save for a slight cloudiness round the iris.