"Basil," said Reybold, "what trust do you leave to me in your family?" Mrs. Basil strove to interpose, but the dying man raised his voice: "Tryphonee can go home to Fauquier. She was always welcome there-- without me. I was disinherited. But here, Colonel! My last drop of blood is in the girl. She loves you." A rattle arose in the sinner's throat. He made an effort, and transferred his daughter's hand to the Congressman's. Not taking it away, she knelt with her future husband at the bedside and raised her voice: "Lord, when Thou comest into Thy kingdom, remember him!" IN EACH OTHER'S SHOES ----------------------- BY GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP _George Parsons Lathrop (born in Hawaii, August 25, 1851; died in 1898) was literally wedded to American literature, in that he married Rose, the second daughter of Nathaniel Hawthorne. She had inspired his youthful poems, and now collaborated with him in several prose works, as well as helped him materially in his master work, a biographical edition of the works of Hawthorne. The fantastic conception of the present story is reminiscent of the imaginative tales of his father-in-law, but there is lacking the glamour of mysticism that Hawthorne would have thrown around it. However, in aiming directly at the moral sense of his readers, instead of approaching this through the aesthetic sense, the obvious treatment of Lathrop gains in human interest more than it loses in literary quality._ IN FACH OTHER'S SHOES BY GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP [Footnote: By permission of the publishers. From "True and Other Stories" copyright, 1884, by Punk & Wagnalls.] I John Crombie had taken a room at the new apartment building, The Lorne; having advanced so far in his experience of New York as to be aware that if he could once establish himself in a house associated by name with foreign places and titles his chance of securing "position" would be greatly increased. He did not, however, take his meals in the expensive cafe of that establishment, finding it more economical to go to an outlandish little French restaurant, some distance away, which had been nicknamed among those of his acquaintance who resorted to it "The Fried Cat." This designation, based on a supposed resemblance to the name of the proprietor, Fricat, was also believed to have value as a sarcasm.