The Boss of Little Arcady

葀
Boss of Little Arcady, by Harry Leon Wilson

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Title: The Boss of Little Arcady
Author: Harry Leon Wilson
Release Date: December 1, 2003 [EBook #10358]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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[Illustration: THE BOSS OF LITTLE ARCADY]
[Illustration: "A-CHESTIN' OUT HIS CHEST LAHK A OLE MA'ASH FRAWG."]

THE BOSS OF LITTLE ARCADY
BY
HARRY LEON WILSON
1905

TO
MY MOTHER

CONTENTS
THE BOOK OF COLONEL POTTS
CHAPTER
I.
How the Boss won his Title
II. The Golden Day of Colonel Potts
III. The Perfect Lover
IV. Dreams and Wakings
V. A Mad Prank of the Gods
VI. A Matter of Personal Property
VII. "A World of Fine Fabling"
VIII. Adventure of Billy Durgin, Sleuth
IX. How the Boss saved Himself
X. A Lady of Powers
XI. How Little Arcady was Uplifted
XII. Troubled Waters are Stilled
THE BOOK OF MISS CAROLINE
XIII. A Catastrophe in Furniture
XIV. The Coming of Miss Caroline
XV. Little Arcady views a Parade
XVI. The Spectre of Scandal is Raised
XVII. The Truth about Shakspere at Last
XVIII. In which the Game was Played
XIX. A Worthless Black Hound
XX. In which Something must be Done
XXI. Little Arcady is grievously Shaken
THE BOOK OF LITTLE MISS
XXII. The Time of Dreams
XXIII. The Strain of Peavey
XXIV. The Loyalty of Jim
XXV. The Case of Fatty Budlow
XXVI. A Little Mystery is Solved
XXVII. How a Truce was Troublesome
XXVIII. The Abdication of the Boss
XXIX. In which All Rules are Broken
XXX. By Another Hand

ILLUSTRATIONS
"A chestin' out his chest lahk a ole ma'ash frawg"
"And yet I have been pestered by cheap flings at my personal bearing"
"We might get him to make a barrel of it for the Sunday-school picnic"
"That will do," I said severely. "Remember there is a gentleman present"

The Book of COLONEL POTTS
CHAPTER I
HOW THE BOSS WON HIS TITLE
=Late last Thursday evening one Jonas Rodney Potts, better known to this community as "Upright" Potts, stumbled into the mill-race, where it had providentially been left open just north of Cady's mill. Everything was going along finely until two hopeless busybodies were attracted to the spot by his screams, and fished him out. It is feared that he will recover. We withhold the names of his rescuers, although under strong temptation to publish them broadcast.--Little Arcady Argus of May 21st.=
Looking back to that time from a happier present, I am filled by a genuine awe of J. Rodney Potts. Reflecting upon those benign ends which the gods chose to make him serve, I can but marvel how lightly each of us may meet and scorn a casual Potts, unrecking his gracious and predestined office in the play of Fate.
Of the present--to me--supreme drama of the Little Country, I can only say that the gods had selected their agent with a cunning so flawless that suspicion of his portents could not well have been aroused in one lacking discernment like unto the gods' very own. So trivially, so utterly, so pitiably casual, to eyes of the flesh, was this Potts of Little Arcady, from his immortal soul to the least item of his inferior raiment!
Thus craftily are we fooled by the Lords of Destiny, whose caprice it is to affect remoteness from us and a lofty unconcern for our poor little doings.
There is bitterness in the lines of that Argus paragraph, and a flippant incivility might be read between them by the least discerning.
Arcady of the Little Country, however, knows there is neither bitterness nor real cynicism in Solon Denney, founder, editor, and proprietor of the Little Arcady Argus; motto, "Hew to the Line, Let the Chips Fall Where they May!" Indeed, we do know Solon. Often enough has the Argus hewn inexorably to the line, when that line led straight through the heart of its guiding genius and through the hearts of us all. One who had seen him, as I did, stand uncovered in the presence of his new Washington hand-press, the day that dynamo of Light was erected in the Argus office, could never suppose him to lack humanity or the just reverence demanded by his craft.
We may concede without disloyalty that Solon is peculiar unto himself. In his presence you are cursed with an unquiet suspicion that he may become frivolous with you at any moment,--may, indeed, be so at that moment, despite a due facial gravity and tones of weight,--for he will not infrequently seem to be both trivial and serious in the same breath. Again, he is amazingly sensitive for one not devoid of humor. In a pleasant sense he is acutely aware of himself, and he does not dislike to