Dorian

뙎Dorian

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dorian, by Nephi Anderson This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: Dorian
Author: Nephi Anderson
Release Date: June 22, 2004 [EBook #12684]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DORIAN ***

Produced by Kevin Handy and PG Distributed Proofreaders

DORIAN
By
Nephi Anderson
Author of "Added Upon," "Romance of A Missionary," etc.

"The Keys of the Holy Priesthood unlock the Door of Knowledge and let you look into the Palace of Truth."
BRIGHAM YOUNG.

Salt Lake City, Utah
1921

Other books by Nephi Anderson.
"ADDED UPON"--A story of the past, the present, and the future stages of existence.
"THE CASTLE BUILDER"--The scenes and incidents are from the "Land of the Midnight Sun."
"PINEY RIDGE COTTAGE"--A love story of a Mormon country girl. Illustrated.
"STORY OF CHESTER LAWRENCE"--Being the completed account of one who played an important part in "Piney Ridge Cottage."
"A DAUGHTER OF THE NORTH"--A story of a Norwegian girl's trials and triumphs. Illustrated.
"JOHN ST. JOHN"--The story of a young man who went through the soul-trying scenes of Missouri and Illinois.
"ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY"--A story of English life and missionary experiences. Illustrated.
"MARCUS KING MORMON"--A story of early days in Utah.
"THE BOYS OF SPRINGTOWN"--A story about boys for boys and all interested in boys. Illustrated.

CHAPTER ONE.
Dorian Trent was going to town to buy himself a pair of shoes. He had some other errands to perform for himself and his mother, but the reason for his going to town was the imperative need of shoes. It was Friday afternoon. The coming Sunday he must appear decently shod, so his mother had told him, at the same time hinting at some other than the Sunday reason. He now had the money, three big, jingling silver dollars in his pocket.
Dorian whistled cheerfully as he trudged along the road. It was a scant three miles to town, and he would rather walk that short distance than to be bothered with a horse. When he took Old Nig, he had to keep to the main-traveled road straight into town, then tie him to a post--and worry about him all the time; but afoot and alone, he could move along as easily as he pleased, linger on the canal bank or cut cross-lots through the fields to the river, cross it on the footbridge, then go on to town by the lower meadows.
The road was dusty that afternoon, and the sun was hot. It would be cooler under the willows by the river. At Cottonwood Corners, Dorian left the road and took the cut-off path. The river sparkled cool and clear under the overhanging willows. He saw a good-sized trout playing in the pool, but as he had no fishing tackle with him, the boy could only watch the fish in its graceful gliding in and out of sunshine and shadow. A robin overhead was making a noisy demonstration as if in alarm about a nest. Dorian sat on the bank to look and listen for a few moments, then he got up again.
Crossing the river, he took the cool foot-path under the willows. He cut down one of the smoothest, sappiest branches with which to make whistles. Dorian was a great maker of whistles, which he freely gave away to the smaller boys and girls whom he met. Just as it is more fun to catch fish than to eat them, so Dorian found more pleasure in giving away his whistles than to stuff them in his own pockets. However, that afternoon, he had to hurry on to town, so he caught no fish, and made only one whistle which he found no opportunity to give away. In the city, he attended to his mother's errands first. He purchased the few notions which the store in his home town of Greenstreet did not have, checking each item off on a slip of paper with a stub of a pencil. Then, there were his shoes.
Should he get lace or button, black or tan? Were there any bargains in shoes that afternoon? He would look about to see. He found nothing in the way of footwear on Main street which appealed to him. He lingered at the window of the book store, looking with envious eyes at the display of new books. He was well known by the bookseller, for he was a frequent visitor, and, once in a while, he made a purchase; however, to day he must not spend too much time "browsing" among books. He would, however, just slip around to Twenty-fifth street and take a look at the secondhand store there. Not to buy shoes, of course, but sometimes there were other interesting things there,