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Newspaper Page Text
By Hector Blake
"A brand from the burning," pro
crvmed wheezy, parsimonious Daniel
BiL "I've put Bob Elston on his
feeu I hope he keeps his good res
olutions which I have tried to instill."
Old Britt indicated a figure going
down the street It was Bob Elston,
whom everybody in town knew for a
ne'er-do-well, but pitied him and liked
As to Daniel Britt, the knowing
ones smiled and shrugged their shoul
ders. It was true that he had given
young Elston a suit of old clothes,
but it ww also current knowledge
that UHston, in some unaccountable
sprint of sobriety, had delved and la
bored in the Britt garden for a full
ten days, receiving half pay.
Britt made great capital of his
"charity" all that day. The next, how
ever, his feathers dropped. More un
steady and ragged than ever, Bob Els
ton appeared on the streets of the vil
laeg. He had sold his clothes and
was back in his old attire. He was
blindly, steadfastly intoxicated. The
demon df rum had him fully in his
power once more.
"Did my duty. It s off my mind,
commented Britt. and poor Bob as
an acknowledged institution of the
lower type of the time proceeded to
prolong his spree.
It was about a week after that
when Donald Pearce, a rising young
lawyer of the town, coming down the
turnpike in his automobile, nearly
ran down a lurching, indifferent fig
ure in the middle of the road. His
machine just grazed Elston and
pushed him aside.
"Narrow escape that, Bob," ob
served Pearce, in a warning but
friendly tone. "I should think you'd
about cut this drink business out"
"Would, 'stammered Elston, "but
I'm afraid of the tremens," and he
Pearce eyed him speculatively. He J
knew Elston as an irresponsible vil
lage feature, he felt sorry for him
and wondered mentally if it would do
any good to try to sober him up.
"See here, Elston," he said, "you've
got too much material in you to
throw it to the winds this way. Why
don't you brace up?" and he tried a
lot of coaxing arguments on his sub
ject, but Elston was impervious to
them all. He was at that stage where
the liquor lay dead in him, afraid of
1 &. 2&." V rSML.
It Was Filled With Bank Notes
fhe "horrors," and he fell behind with
a disconsolate face.
"Come to me if. I can ever help
you sober, though, mind you," said
Pearce in partine. and waved hia
hand in a friendly way, not noting
that the movement disarranged
something from his outside coat
pocket which fell into the road over
tne side or the machine.