THE MAN IN THE WINDOW
"What good did my college athletics ever do me?" thought Will Young, bitterly, as he stepped out into busy Broadway again, after applying for the fifth time that afternoon for work—and in vain.
He had caught sight of Madison Square; it reminded him of the night after the great Thanksgiving-day football game nearly a year ago—the last of his college course—and of how he had been one of those that were cheered and pointed out and stared at. The fellows had exultingly made up songs about "Deacon Young" that night; reporters had interviewed him; men and women had turned to gaze at him as he passed by, and now, near the same spot, he was hungry, and wondering whether to get one square meal with his last fifty cents or divide it up for several small lunches.
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