The Washburn leader. [volume], October 08, 1915, Image 2

About The Washburn leader. [volume] (Washburn, McLean County, N.D.) 1890-1986

Image provided by: State Historical Society of North Dakota

                
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A
A Medieval
Tale
By ESTHER VANDEVEER
Medieval times were prolific of sto
ries of the devil, who was supposed
to be going about making bargains for
souls. A great many such tales illus
trating his methods have been handed
down to us from that age in which
they were believed by those who cir
culated them. Here is one that has
remained dormant for many years. It
was told me by an American multi
millionaire who bought a custle in
Germany and found the legend among
papers that had not been disturbed for
hundreds of years.
Count Caspar Ardenreld, the lord of
the castle in question, was in love
with Bertha, the daughter of a neigh
boring Baron Cronsheld. There had
been a feud between the families, and
Cronsheld refused the young count the
band of bis daughter.
One evening the count was sitting in
his cabinet, disconsolate that he must
be deprived of bis love, when the door
opened and a man entered wearing a
pointed beard and au upturned mus
tache.
"Who are you," asked the count,
"and how did you gain access to me
unannounced?"
"I am the devil," was the response,
"and I have come to help you to win
the hand of the girl you love."
"Leave me you will require a soul to
pay for your assistance."
"You are right I must have the
soul of your firstborn child."
"Begone, I gay 1 will h:«ve nothing
to do with you."
"Then you must give up all hope of
a union with the Countess Bertha. Her
father will never yield."
The devil stuck to his work, convers
ing with the count and constantly get
ting him under his satanic influence.
Caspar asked lilm how he would ac
complish his object, and he said the
baron was a skillful chess player. The
devil would taunt him into playing a
game, the winner to name a husband
for his daughter. Caspar, who was
desperately in love, finally consented,
but only after wringing from the devil
a certain condition. lie might redeem
his child's soul if he could beat the
devil at a game of chess. This did not
seem likely, but it was the only hope
Satan would give.
The bargain having been struck,
Satan sent the baron word that he had
heard of his remarkable skill at chess
and challenged him to a contest. The
baron, much flattered, invited the chal
lenger to his castle. Satan appeared in
the person of an agreeable young man
giving evidence by his rich attire and
general lavishness of being a grand
personage. He told the baron that he
would play him a game of chess, the
stake to be what he had named to Cas
par. The baron, supposing that be
wanted Bertha for himself, consented.
Of course the devil beat the baron, and
the winner named for a husband for
his daughter Count Caspar Ardenreid.
The baron consented, cursing the trick
ster at the same time and wondering
why he bad befriended the lovers.
Since there was nothing against
Count Caspar but the feud with which
he had nothing to do. Baron Cronsheld
made the best of it and soon beeame
attached to his son-in-law. Caspar told
him how he had won bis consent and
what he bad agreed to pay for it. This
excited the old man to spend a great
deal of time studying difficult chess
problems in order that when the devil
came to claim his grandchild he might
redeem him by beating the arch fiend
at bis own game. He was so proud of
his ability as a chess player that he
really aspired to beat the deviL
The day a man child was born to the
count and countess was both a happy
and a sad one. The lady had learned
from her husband the secret that her
baby's soul must go to the devil, and
since she was very religious the calam
ity was the more awful. Her father
assured her that her son was safe, for
It had been stipulated that if any one
could be found to beat the devil at
chess the bargain would be off. He
(the baron) had learned a number of
combinations any one of which was
sure to win.
The mother proposed that the baby
be baptized at once, hoping that this
might forestall Satan, but before it
could be done he appeared and claimed
the child's soul. Since all depended on
a chess contest the count proposed that
three games be played between the
baron and the devil, two games to win.
So they sat down at once and began to
play. Satan said be would play the
first game with his eyes shut He pur
posely threw away the game, but even
without seeing the chessmen he could
have beaten his antagonist if he had
been so disposed. The second game he
beat the baron in iesB than a dozen
moves.
Cronsheld refused to play the third
game, declaring that the beet chess
player in the world could not beat one
who played using superhuman means.
The count went to his wife to impart
the news that their son's soul depended
on the third game, which the devil was
sure to win. Bertha said she bad been
praying to the Virgin Mary for help
and had been told what to do. When
ber husband went back to the devil he
•aid he would play the third game him
if Satan laughed scornfully, but sat
down at the board.
Half a dozen moves had been made
and Satan bad but two more to make
to cbeckmate when Caspar threw back
Us doublet and displayed a gold cross.
Satan cringed under the table and left
the room like a dog with his tail be
tween his legs.
.... And he never enme back for his pay.
mvm®
Truth Is Stranger
Than Fi5tion
By RUTH GRAHAM
When a story is ready made there is
nothing to do but tell it This tale, the
Incidents of which really happened, is
olio of the Improbable kind which go to
prove that truth is stranger than fic
tion. The only change In It from the
truth Is the names of the actors and
the locations.
We must go back to that period wheu
a German army was thrown into Bel
glum wheu the French gathered their
forces to defend their capital and the
English threw across the channel what
troops were available to assist their
allies. Yet it was not there that our
story begins, but in a colony of the
British empire. War had not yet open
ed when a girl and her mother in Can
ada were discussing a ball dress for the
former, though the girl was more inter
ested In the expected appearance at the
ball of nil Englishman than In her ap
parel.
"I hear." said Kdith Warren to her
mother, ••that a sou of the MacDer
motts has come out from bonny Scot
land to liis father and mother.
Ma.vbe he will be at the Scotia ball
tills evening."
"I think," replied lier mother, "that
you had better wear your pink silk to
the hall. Edith. It is just the shade for
your complexion."
Editii won? her pink silk to the Scotia
ball and met Ian MacDeruiott. a cap
tain in a Scotch regiment. Whether it
was the dross or Edith's beauty or her
charming manners that won the cap
tain there is no record. Certain it is
that she won him. and he carried her
back with him in Scotland from her
home in America on a honeymoon trip.
Scarcely had the newly wedded pair
got settled in their home in Edinburgh
when England declared Avar against
Germany and threw a force across the
cliannel into France. The honeymoon
of the MacDerniotts had not ended be
fore the captain bade an adieu to his
bride and went in command of his com
pany to the front.
One night the English and Germans
met in a hot fight. MacDermott's regi
ment was obliged to give ground be
fore a superior force. The captain was
struck by a fragment of a shell and
left on the field among the dead and
wounded. Then the British rallied and
recovered the lost ground.
When it became jiossible for the Red
Cross aud the army surgeons to rescue
the wounded a surgeon, comiug upon
the body of Captain MacDeruiott, took
the identification tag from it and re
ported him dead.
It was a sharp blow to the bride
wheu she received news of the death of
her husband. She gave up her home in
Edinburgh and removed to another lo
cality, but only temporarily, for she de
signed to return to her parents in
America. She was not able to leave at
once, but as soon as arrangements
could be made she sailed from a Scotch
port for New York.
There was the usual bustle upon the
sailing of a steamer. Mrs. MacDermott
in deep mourning, stood on the deck
looking out upon the country in which
so much happiness had been expected,
grieving over the wreck of her hopes.
The announcement had been made that
all who were to go ashore must leave.
When time had expired for this an or
der was given to draw in the gang
plank.
At this moment an auto came dash
ing up on the dock, sounding signals for
persons to get out of the way. Evi
dently some belated passenger had ar
rived. and the hauling in of the gang
plank ceased. An officer in uniform
jumped from the car and hurried aboard
the ship.
A thrill shot through the breast of
the woman in mourning. She saw in
the newcomer her husband. Was she
dreaming? Impossible! Had she be
come demented by the shock of passing
so suddenly from a bride to a widow?
Her brain was in a whirl until the offi
cer. coming up ou the deck, spied her
and, running toward her. clasped her in
bis arms.
We left Captain MacDermott on the
field of battle, the identification tag be
ing taken from his body. Later while
the work of* removing the wounded
was in progress a surgeon coming upon
MacDermott saw signs of life in him.
The captain was removed to a field
hospital. Then he was sent across the
channel and placed in a regularly or
ganized hospital for the sick and
wounded of the war. There he lay for
a long while unconscious.
In £ime Captain MacDermott was
brought round and was discharged
from the hospital. He made all possi
ble baste to his home in Scotland to
find that his wife bad given up her
home and gone elsewhere, but where
she had gone he was not informed.
His only means of ascertaining her lo
cation seemed to be to send a cable
gram to her relatives in America. This
be did and received a reply that she
was about to sail from Glasgow for
home.
Such Is the romance of a bride and
groom which if told in a story book
would subject the author to a charge
of inventing what was so improbable
as not to be legitimate fiction. In the
war between the states there were
cases of soldiers reported dead who
were not even wounded. But nowa
days every soldier carries on bis person
his name and other information con
cerning him. It would seem that the
old causes of error are by this elimi
nated. Yet Captain MacDermott's be
ing discovered Insensible permitted the
tag to tel! a false story which was a
long while being contradicted.
J!
f\ Jl I' /jjfj
Barking Up the
Wrong Tree
By MARTHA V. MONROE
My engagement to Stewart Barnes
brought me a great deal of happiness,
which was suddenly broken in a very
singular way. One day while shopping,
in order to examine goods, I laid my
bag on the counter. I was hunting for
something difficult to find and visited
several stores. Finding what I wanted.
I opened the. bag to take out my purse
and at once discovered that I had
changed bags with some one else. My
portemonnaie was not there, but instead
I found $10 in bills. Among other ar
ticles was an unsealed letter addressed
to Evelyn Tewkesberry, general deliv
ery of the postoffice.
Thinking that the letter would belp
me to find the person with whom 1 had
made the exchange, 1 took the letter
from the envelope and read It It was
short and to the point:
Will be at the corner of Eighth and Lo
cust 6treets at 7:30 tonight, made up for
seedy Individual with green spectacles,
wear thick veil and carry violets in left
hand. STEWART.
Great heavens! Could I have stum
bled on a letter my own Stewart had
written to some other woman appoint
inga clandestine meeting? I trembled.
Whether it was through force of imag
ination I know not, but I recognized
my Stewart's handwriting. To further
confirm my suspicion, there was a post
script, "Anna is watching me." My
name is Anna.
Here were three elements pointing to
my lover's identity with this Stewart
whose name was signed to the letter,
though one of the three, the handwrit
ing, was doubtful. I bad not been long
familiar with Stewart Barnes' writing
and could not be sure that what I saw
be bad written nevertheless I bad no
doubt of it At any rate I determined
to profit by my find. But how should 1
proceed? I shrank from interrupting
the meeting as beneath me. Instead I
put the letter in a new envelope, read
dressed it, and, inserting a slip of paper
stating that I had. exchanged bags with
its owner, giving my address, I drop
ped the letter in a mailbox. I also put
in a note to Stewart breaking our en
gagement
The next day a messenger brought
me my bag containing the articles in
it when it was exchanged aud a request
for the one in my possession. I return
ed it, and, so far as the owner was con
corned, I was at quits. There remained
to settle with Stewart I presumed he
would come to see me posthaste to
learn what was the trouble, for I bad
given him no inkliug as to my discov
ery of his perfidy.
The day after the one on which I bad
posted my letter to Stewart passed, and
he neither appeared nor wrote. I bad
assumed that If his conscience was
clear he would come to me at once If
I had really caught him in a delin
quency he would recognize the fact
that I bad discovered his deception and
would either try to beg off or would
accept his dismissal without a word.
Then, too, he might really prefer the
Tewkesberry woman, in which case 1
should probably not bear anything
from him.
Three days passed without a word.
Nothing is so tantalizing as ignorance
of some important matter one is very
much interested in knowing. Every
day that passed left me in a more agi
tated condition than the preceding.
Why bad I not stated to my lover my
reason for breaking my engagement?
I bad not foreseen this result One of
two courses was open to me. either to
call on Stewart for an explanation of
my discovery or to write to Evelyn
Tewkesberry to learn from hor if ber
correspondent was my Stewart. Think
ing the latter course would be the
easier for me. I followed it.
For several days I waited impatient
ly for a reply and then broke down
completely. I was ready to forgive
my lover, innocent or guilty. But my
pride held me back from doing what
I should have done In the first place
that is, stating the case to Stewart
and asking him if he was the writer
of the letter I bad stumbled on.
Since I could not bring myself to do
this, I determined to try again to reach
the Tewkesberry woman. I wrote ber
a note and hired a boy to watch
the general delivery for the claimant
He reported that the letter bad been
taken from the postoffice by an old
woman, who had given her name as
Evelyn Tewkesberry. He bind follow
ed her from the postoffice and had
noted the house where she lived.
This was a. surprise to me. But
upon ferreting out the matter I went
to the bouse and asked for Mrs. or
Miss Tewkesberry. An old woman
came Into the room where I was and
asked me what I wanted. Was she
Evelyn Tewkesberry? She was. Did
she know a man of the name of Stew
art Barnes? She did not I then told
her that I was the person who bad
taken up her bag by mistake and ask
ed her to explain the letter It bad con
tained. She berated me for reading
the letter and declined to explain It
I left her no wiser than I came, ex
cept that I was conscious of having
made a fool of myself in sending away
a lover without a hearing. It would
have been even wiser for me to ap
pear at the meeting appointed In the
letter.
Resolved to "eat bumble pie," I sent
for Stewart, and be came to see me.
I think he had Intended to crush me.
but when he saw my altered appear
ance be took me In ills arms, and I
cried awhile before telling blm of my
terrible mistake.
Very Long
Lived
By LOUISE B. CUMM1NGS
"Mirandy," said her aunt, Miss
Quackenbos, "I don't see any reason
why you and Dan Perkins shouldn't
be married at once instead o' waitln'
for me to git out o' the way and—and
leave you what I got. 1 tell you what
I'll do. I'm an old woman and not
likely to live the year out. Dr. Bald
win says there isn't a sound organ In
my shriveled old body. If you and
Dan are certain you're goln' to get my
property you'll feel more like gettin'
married than if you're not.. A bird In
the hand is worth two in the bush.
"I'll leave you property worth $10,
000 on condition that you take care o'
me for the few months I have to live.
You bind yourselves to give me $500
a year. The money is invested at that,
so you'll not be out a cent, and when
I'm buried you'll have the whole
thing."
Diu had a salary of $1,200 a year,
but with nothing laid up be bad de
clined to marry Miranda, who had
nothing, until he should make some ac
cumulation. This offer of the aunt
gave him courage, and the pair, hav
ing taken over the property and signed
a bond to pay Mrs. Quackenbos $500 a
year so long as she lived, were mar
ried. A part of the estate was the
dwelling in which the old woman lived.
Being too large for her, she moved out
to spend the rest of her days with a
sister, and the bridal couple moved in.
Now, this was an excellent arrange
ment. It gave the young couple a con
fidence they would not otherwise have
felt. But they were prevented from
making any use of the property until
it was unencumbered by the annuity.
Dan was disposed to refrain from en
croaching upon the estate, but Miran
da needed this and needed that, and
when her husband objected she would
say that her aunt was getting worse
every day and surely couldn't live the
month out. Then Dan would yield,
and the desired articles would be
bought.
But the old lady didn't die. After
lying supposedly at the point of death
for a long while she suddenly got out
of bed and seemed more chipper than
ever. Indeed, she announced that she
was disinclined to mope and was go
ing to start a chicken farm. This she
did in a small way, and the interest
she took in it improved her health
amazingly.
Meanwhile Mr. and Mrs. Perkins
were having a hard time to get on.
The Quackenbos property gave tbem
no income and had been an induce
ment to spend money that did not
come in, as had been expected. Chil
dren came to them, and it seemed the
more children and the older and more
experienced they grew the more vigor
ous the old lady became. Of course
they could not object to ber remaining
alive, but she spoke to tbem on the
subject thus:
"Reckon you two think I'm goin' to
live forever. It ain't my fault. I
don't want to hang on any longer. I'm
ready to go any time. After all, it
won't do you any harm. You're econ
omlzin' at a time when you ought to
economize, and you'll reap the benefit
of It all after I'm gone."
Then the couple would look at each
other and sigh, knowing that their
debts had already nearly eaten up the
whole expected property.
The old lady hung on till the Per
kins' debt exactly balauced the $10,
000 they bad taken in exchange for the
annuity. Then she died. They paid
the funeral expenses—$300—which left
tbem in debt by that amount.
Considering bow unfortunate they
had been In the old lady's living so
long, they behaved very well. Indeed,
they did not blame her. They blamed
themselves for having drawn upon the
property before they possessed it.
They not only refrained from accus
ing Miss Quackenbos from designedly
drawing them into a trap, but spoke
kindly of her both in the domestic cir
cle and to others.
Having burled the old lady, they put
the property they had. taken from ber
in the market to sell to pay their debts.
Then one day they went to her quar
ters to remove to their bouse the few
belongings she had left. Among these
articles they brought away a tin
box. It was locked, and tbey did not
find tbe key, but since there seemed
to be something in it Dan pried It
open. Within they found a bundle of
papers and pass books. Miranda open
ed one of the books and found that it
•bowed a credit at a savings bank of
$937.56. Then she opened another, and
It showed a credit of $2,742.18. A third
more than doubled these two together.
Dan unfolded a document, which
proved to be a deed to a dwelling and
another to a business block. All this
property was In Miss Quackenbos*
name. The Perkins couple began to
open their eyes. The old. lady bad evi
dently possessed more property than
she bad conveyed to than. But who
bad inherited what these vouchers
stood for?
They began to empty tbe box In a
search for a will. Pass books, deeds,
(iertlfl'cates of stock and bonds were
picked out and strewed the floor. Then
Miranda, running over tbe indorse
ments on a bundle of papers, exclaimed:
''Here it Is. Last will and testa
ment!"
Unfolding the paper with trembling
hands, she cried:
"To my beloved niece, Miranda
Quackenbos Perkins/
/r
^T&
A Burglary
By EDITH V. ROSS
Gladys Denton was the daughter of
nn English couple who were related to
members of the nobility and had lived
in affluence. Speculation on the Stock
Exchange took all they possessed ex
cept enough to get them to America,
where her father made an uncertain
living. It was a dream with him to
get back to England and with sufficient
means to reassume his former position.
When tbe family came to America
Gladys was but four years old. Con
sequently while the father and moth
„er were living on the memory of their
former social position tbe daughter
was growing to womanhood without
the advantages of wealth. She was
not only comely, but a lovely girl, and
when ber father had passed an age
wherein be could hope to make
a strike he fancied that bis daughter
might obtain a station nearer to what
her birth entitled her by an advan
tageous marriage.
This being the case, it was quite nat
ural that every young man who came
to visit Gladys was looked upon with
misgivings by her parents. The hal
cyon days of the family in England
were a blank to her. That her mother
had employed half a dozen servants
and had ridden in her carriage was, as
far as she was concerned, ancient his
tory.
Gladys' young men friends were
untitled Americans and quite good
enough for her. Naturally, therefore,
she chafed at being catechized by her
mother whenever she made a new ac
quaintance or an old one called on her
more than once a month.
When Gladys fell in love it was one
of those quick cases wherein a girl will
recognize a mate the moment she sees
him. And It was the same with the
man she met They could have been
married the next day and made no mis
take. Gladys knew very well that they
could not appear together before her
father and mother without betraying
the position they occupied as lovers.
She therefore did not permit her lover
to come to the house. The only man
the parents had reason to dread, Alan
Edmonds, they never saw.
But lovers cannot live simply as lov
ers they must possess each other.
Gladys, knowing that for her to con
fess that she had met and loved a man
with nothing but a salary barely suf
ficient to enable a couple to get on
would bring the dreams of years crash
ing about her parents' beads, would
neither consent to marry Edmonds
openly nor clandestinely. At any rate,
this was the case when something
happened to make matters far worse
than they were. The couple corre
sponded clandestinely, and one evening
while Gladys was inditing an impas
sioned letter to ber lover a lamp on the
floor below exploded and started a fire.
She ran downstairs and assisted in put
ting it out. But before she got back
to her room her mother, who had been
collecting heirlooms, expecting that
tbey would need to be removed, had
been in Giadys' room and pounced
upon the letter. The secret was out
But "what's his name or Where's bis
home" Gladys didn't care to tell. Both
ber father and her mother threatened
and pleaded with ber to give tbem sat
isfaction In the matter, but she held
firm.
Then followed meetings and commu
nications made difficult by tbe watch
fulness of Mrs. Denton, and the great
er the obstacles tbe more impassioned
tbe love tbe more impassioned the love
the greater the risks taken. Finally
Gladys wrote her lover that she was to
be removed.
The necessity of seeing ber at once
induced him to go to her home the
same eveniug, hoping to find an oppor
tunity to speak to her. He waited in
the yard till every room in the house
except Gladys' was dark, then, climb
ing a support of the porch, appeared
before her window. She had not dis
robed. Tapping on the pane, he called
to her to flee with blm.
While they were talking they beard
the front door open and close. Ed
monds, fearing to be caught by some
one without, entered the room from
the window. He had scarcely done
^2l:'E!EW^^k
BO
when a step was heard in the ball.
Gladys ftin into a closet Tbe door
was opened by her mother, and there
«tood an unknown man.
If Gladys lost her bead her lover
kept his. Her watch was on the dress
er, and just as the door opened be
clutched it. Then, darting out of the
window, be made off. Gladys beard
his retreat and came from her hiding
place, pale and trembling.
"My child," exclaimed her mother,
"there is nothing to fear! Tbe wretch
has gone, but he has taken your
watch."
"Ob, mother." exclaimed tbe girl.
"I'm so frightened!"
Tbe police were called and came In
a patrol wagon, but tbe bird bed
flown, and there was nothing more to
do in the matter.
One morning a few months .later an
other bird was discovered to have
flown during the night Gladys was
missing, and during tbe day a tele
gram came announcing that she bad
been married. This' time there was
nothing to do. but make the best of it
and tbe young couple were forgiven
and recalled.
"It seems to me." said Mrs. Denton,
scrutinising her son-in-law. "that I
have seen you somewhere before"
"Impossible." said tbe groom. "You
mistake mefor another."
And the sccret never came out
§££tl^,:
:i .:* S
Colonel Bunker
By M. QUAD
Copyright, 1915. by the McClure
Newspaper Syndicate.
"You have asked me, suV began.
Colonel Bunker, "which was the stran
gest duel I ever fought Of the fifteen
or twenty 1 think that two might come
under the head of strange.
"Majah Blazer and I were friends
and neighbors and bad been for years.
Not a word of discord had ever passed
between us. He had a cat and 1 bad a
dog, and they were also friends.
"One' morning the majah came into
my office and called out:
'Colonel, tell your dawg that If he
will come over be may have a look at
them.'
'What is it majah?"
'Our old cat has kittens.'
'You don't say! How many of
them?'
'Just twenty-one, suh.'
'You counted them yourself.
you?'
'"Colonel, do you question, my state
ment?'
'Not at all, major but twenty-one
kittens in a litter is certainly a won
derful thing.'
'it may be, suh, and—good morning,
suh!'
"And, suh, it wasn't an hour before
be sent a friend to me to arrange a
duel. I bad seemed to doubt his verac
ity, and he must clear his honab. I
agree with you that it was silly, but
men were mighty peppery In those
days. The majah's wife came and
begged that I refuse the challenge, but
at tbe same time she couldn't show
me bow I could do it and maintain my
honah. I asked her the number of kit
tens and was not at all surprised to
learn tbat the number was only four.
"The explanation was tbat the ma
jah's wife had been canning strawber
ries, and in speaking of it. to him she
gave the number of the cans as twenty
one.
"Well, suh, the choice of weapons
lay with me, and 1 cbose swords. A
week before that while out for a walk
I crossed the dueling ground, and I ob
served tbat close by in a fence corner
was a bumblebees' nest We were to
meet at sunrise, which is a very un
comfortable hour, by the bye. and tho
night before 1 had a confidential talk
with a colored brother.
"Tbe night passed, and the morning
came. 1 was first on the ground, and I
had time to see that the colored broth
er was up in the part he was to play. On
my word, the majah knew no mo' about
sword play than a Laplander. I could
have had him out in one minute, but I
did not want that I gave the colored
brother the nod, and be stirred up the
bees through the fence with a pole.
They came out of the grass by tbe hun
dred, and I alone saw them in time to
get away.
"But the bees, suh—the bees! Those
men left behind were a sight to see
when the insects got through with
them. All of tbem had to be led home,
and not one of tbem got out of tbe
house for a fortnight As for the ma
jah, when he could get out be came to
tbe office to say:
'Colonel, I have bad news for your
dawg.'
"'WhatIs It?'
'Every kitten Is dead.'
'Sho! That's too bad.'
'And tbe shelf fell down and broke
all the fruit jars.'
'Too bad, too bad.'
'And you take notice, sub, we didn't
get the kittens and tbe jars mixed
up.'"
did
At this juncture Colonel Bunker re
marked that be would tell the story of
another duel.
"Captain Seaton was my good friend
and had been for years. One evening
as we sat on tbe veranda of hit bouse,
smoking our pipes and saying little, be
carelessly observed:
'"It's a wonder those grasshoppers
can keep tbat noise up tbe way they
do.'
'You mean crickets, captain.' I cor
rected.
'I mean what I mean!' he snapped.
"Well, there we were," said tbe colo
nel—"there we were. It made no dif
ference whatever to either one of us
whether it was a cricket, a grasshopper
or an owl singing, but there are times
when the best of men are attacked by
what may be called a fool perversity.
We sulked for five minutes, and then I
said:
'Captain, tbe songs of those crickets
are not so unpleasant after alL'
'You mean the songs of those grass
hoppers, 'sub,' be replied.
'Crickets!'
-Grasshoppers!'
'Colonel Bunker, my friend will wait
on you and arrange!'
The sooner the better, sub!*
"And within an hour his friend came,
and a duel was arranged for sunrise.
"You may say we were a couple of
idiots, sub. but in those days a man's
honab was held to be a sacred thing If
I was out' walking with a gentleman.,
and remarked tbat there was
around the moon and he replied that be
couldn't see It, honab required that: I
send blm a challenge.
"And, suh. perhaps tberewas neither
moon nor ring showing!
"We were on the field and the dls
tance was being paced olf wben a bull
dog got after a drove of mules out at
pasture, and the mules got after us. All
'bands were driven up trees, and as we
roosted fifteen feet blgh one of the sec
onds called out: .•^Vr
'Gentlemen, I don't think It was
either crickets or .grasshoppers!'
'"Then what?"
:lliSS
&&s8l&
-"MASS
ik:
"#1
A
-••I
V.
w.
1
!\v
'Tree toads!"
"And we descended and shook bands.
and the duel
duel was off P*
was off, snh—and