The St. Charles herald. [volume], August 25, 1917, Image 6

About The St. Charles herald. [volume] (Hahnville, La.) 1873-1993

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(Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons)
CHAPTER XIV— Continued.
—11—
Stanton wits still wrestling with liis
problem when the "handsome couple"
returned from tie* play. The trust
field captain saw them as they crossed
I he lobby to the elevator and again
marked the little evidences of familiar
ity. "That settles it," he mused, with
an ontthrust of the pugnacious jaw.
"She knows more about Smith than
anybody else in this neck of woods—
»nd she's got it to tell !"
Stanton began his inquisition for bet
ter information the following day, with
the bejewelled lady for his ally. Miss
Hichlander was alone and unfriended
In the hotel—and also a little bored.
Hence she was easy of approach; so
easy that by luncheon time the sham
promoter's wife was able to introduce
her husband. Stanton lost no moment
Investigative. For the inquiring pur
pose, Smith was made to figure as a
business acquaintance, and Stanton
was generous in his praises of the
young man's astounding financial abil
Ity.
"He's simply a wonder. Miss Rich
lander !" he confided over the luncheon
table. "Coming here a few weeks ago,
absolutely unknown, he has already be
come a prominent man of afTair.s in
Brewster. And so discreetly reticent!
To this good «lay nobody knows where
be comes from, or anything about
him."
"No?" said Miss Verda. "How sin
gular!" Rut she did uot volunteer to
supply any of the missing biographical
facts. ,
"Absolutely nothing," Stanton went
on smoothly. "And, of course, his si
lence about himself has been grossly
misinterpreted. I have even heard it
said that he is an escaped convict."
"How perfectly absurd !" was the
smiling comment.
"Isn't it? But you know how people
will talk. They are saying now that
his name isn't Smith; that he has
merely taken the commonest name in
tlie category as an alias."
"I can contradict that, anyway,"
Miss Richlundcr offered. "His name is
really arid truly John Smith."
"You have known him a long time,
liaven't you?" inquired the lady with
•tie headlight diamonds.
"Oli, yes; for quite a long time, in
deed."
"That was back in New York state?"
deed."
"That was back in New York state?"
Stanton slipped in.
"In the East, yes. He comes of an
exeel lent family. His father's people
a
were well-to-do farmers, and one of his t
.great-uncles on his mother's side was
on the supreme bench in our state; he f
was chief justice during the later years fa
of his life." j
"What state did you say?" queried j
Stanton craftily. But Miss Verda was
Jar too wide-awake to let him surprise
her.
"Our home state, of course. I don't j ]j
hflieve any member of Mr. Smith's
•immediate family on either side has
ever moved out of it."
Stanton gave it up for the time be
ing, and was convinced upon two points.
Smith might have business reasons for
eecrecy—he might have backers who
wished to remain completely unknown
In their fight against the big land
trust ; but if he had no backers the
«
ii
m
Ï
"—he Is an Escaped Convict."
other hypothesis clinched itself instant
ly—he was in hiding; he had done
something from which he had run
away.
It was not until after office hours
that Stanton was able to reduce his
equation to its simplest terms, and it
was Shaw, dropping in to make his re
port after his first day's work as clerk
and stenographer in the High Line
headquarters, who cleared the air of at
least oue fog bank of doubts.
"I've been through the records and
the stock-books," said the spy, when.
In obedience to orders, he had locked
the office door. "Smith is playing a
lone hand. He flimflnmmed Kinzie for
his first chunk of money, and after that
it was easy. Every dollar invested in
High Line has been dug up right here
in the Tlmanyoni. Here's the list of
stockholders."
Stauton ran his eye down the string
what to do with him."
it!" he rasped; "and lie's Fuirbairn's |
own son-in-law !"
"So is Starbuck, for that matter; j
and lie's in for twenty thousand," said j
Shaw. "And. by the way, Hill is a
man who will hear watching. Ile s
hand-in-glove with Smith, and lie's onto
all of our little crooks and turns. 1
heard him telling Smith today that he
owed it to tiie company to carry a
gun."
Stanton's smile showed his teeth.
"I wisli he would; carry one and kill
somebody with it. Then we'd know
a
The spy was rolling a cigurette and
his half-closed eyes had a murderous
glint in them. |
"Me, for instance?" he inquired cyn
ically.
"Anybody," said Stanton absently.
He was going over the list of stock
holders again and hud scarcely heard
what Shaw had said.
"That brings us down to business,
Mr. Stanton," said the ex-railroad clerk
slowly. "I'm not getting money enough
out of this to cover the risk—my risk."
The man at the desk looked up
quickly.
"What's that you say? By heavens,
Shaw, I've spoken once, and I'll do
It just this one time more: you sing
small if you want to keep out of jail !"
Shaw had lighted his cigarette and
was edging toward the door.
"Not this trip. Mr. Stanton," he said
coolly. "If you've got me. I've got
you. I can find two men who will go
into court and swear that you paid
I'et«* Simms money to have Smith sand
bagged. that day out at Simms' place
at the dam! I may have to go to jail,
as you say; but I'll bet you five to one
that you'll beat me to it!" And with j
that he snapped the catch on the locked
door and went away.
Some three hours after this rather
Some three hours after this rather
hostile dash with the least trustwor
thy but by far the most able of his
henchmen, Crawford Stanton left his
wife chatting comfortably with Miss
Richlan«l(*r in the hotel parlors and
went reluctantly to keep an appoint
ment which he had been dreading ever
it
day:
no
why
since tIn* earlv afternoon hour when
a wire had come from Copah directing
him to meet the "Nevada Flyer upon
its arrival at Brewster. The public
knew the name signed to the telegram
as that of a millionaire statesman ; but
Stanton knew it best as the name of
a hard and not overscrupulous master.
The train was whistling for the sta
t j on w hen Stanton descended from his
ca j) an( j hurried down the long plat
f ürtn . \ white-jacketed porter was
fa ulting to admit him to the presence
j when the train came to a stand; and as
j ie into the vestibule of the
luxurious private car. Stanton got what
comfort he could out of the thought
that the interview would necessarily be
j ]j m ited by the ten minutes' engine
changing stop of the fast train,
Stanton, ten mindtes later, made a
rlid
1 took
tnr«
!
tild
She
the
flying leap from the moving train. At
the cab rank he found the motor cab
which he hud hired for the drive down
from the hotel. Climbing in. he gave a
brittle order to the chauffeur. Simul
taneously a man wearing the softest
of hats lounged away from his post of
observation under a nearby electric
pole and ran across the railroad plaza
to unhitch and mount a wiry little cow
pony. Once in the saddle, however,
the mount«*d man did not hurry his
horse. Having overheard Stanton's
order giving, there was no need to keep
the motor cab in sight as It sputtered
through the streets and out upon the
backgrounding mesa, its ill-smelling
course ending at a lonely roadhouse in
the mesa hills on the Topaz trail.
When the hired vehicle came to a
stand in front of the lighted barroom
of the roadhouse, Stanton gave a wait
ing order to the driver and went in.
Of the dog-faced barkeeper he asked
an abrupt question, and at the man's |
jerk*'of a thumb toward the rear, the
promoter passed on and entered the
private room at the back.
The private room had but one occu
pant—the man Lanterby, who was sit
ting behind a round card table and
In
up
let
A
me
vou
the
of
vainly endeavoring to make one of the
pair of empty whisky ; lasses spin in a
complete circuit about a black botth*
standing on the table.
Thp h[red car was st m waiting when
stanton W ent out through the barroom
^ gaye the driver hi s return orders.
And, because the night was dark, nei
Qf tfae two at the car saw the man
^ goft faat stra i g hten himself up
it hig crouc hing place under the
a
in
of
backroom window and vanish silently
in the gloom.
CHAPTER XV.
A Night of Fiascos.
Smith had seen nothing of Miss
Richlander during the day, partly be
cause there was a forenoon meeting of j
the High Line stockholders called for j
the purpose of electing him secretary
and treasurer in fact of the company. |
and partly because the major portion
of the afternoon was spent in confer
ence with Williams at the dam.
Returning from the dam site quite
late in the evening. Smith spent a hard
|
j
j
working hour or more at his desk in
iln* Ktnzie building offices ; and il was
here that Starbuck found him.
"What?" said Hie new secretary,
looking up from his work when Star
buck's wiry figure loomed in the door
way, "1 thought you wen* once more
a family man, and had cut out the
night prowling."
Starbuck jackknifed himself com
fortably in a chair.
j
j of
Rut the little girl's run !
"I was.
away again; gone with her sister
Maxwell's wife, you know—to Denver
to get lier teeth fixed; and I'm foot
loose. Been hutting in a little on
your game, this evening, just to he
doing. How's tricks with you, now?"
"We're strictly in the fight," de
lared Smith enthusiastically. "We
losed the deal today for the last half
mile of the main ditch right of way,
which puts us up on the mesa slope
above the Escalante grant. If they
knock us our now, they'll have to do
it with dynamite."
"Yes." said the ex-cowman, thought
fully; "with dynamite." Then: "How
is Williams getting along?"
"Fine! The water Is crawling up on
him a little every night, but with no
accidents, he'll lie able to hold the
flood rise when it comes. The only
thing that worries me now is the time
limit."
"The time limit?" echoed Starbuck.
"What's that?"
"It's the handicap we inherit from
the original company. Certain state
rights to the water were conveyed in
the old charter, on condition that the
project should be completed, or at least
be far enough along to turn water into
tin* ditches, by a given date. This time
limit, which carries over from Timan
|
j yoni Ditch to Timanvoni High Line,
[expires next week. We're petitioning
for an extension, but if we don't get
th.
it we shall still be able to bad
water up s.» that it will flow int<
ImviT level of ditches by next T
day: that is, barring accidents."
"Yes; with no accidents." mused
Starbuck. "Can't get shut of the 'if.'
no way nor shape, can we? So that's
why the Stanton people have been
so wolttslily for delay, is it ;
uirs
fightin
John, this is a wicked, wicked world.
switched abruptly.
Then tit* switched abruptly. "Where
rlid you corral all those good looks you
1 took to the opera house last night.
John?"
Smith's laugh was strictly perfunc
tnr«
Miss Vera Richlander. an
! "That was Miss Vera Richlander. an
tild friend of mine from back home.
, j !
She is out here with her father, and ;
the father has gone up into the Topaz l
country to buy him a gold brick." j p
,
"Not in the Topaz, Starbuck struck ,
loyally. "We don't make the bricks
|
In
up there—not the phony kind. But
let that go and tell me something cist*.
A while back, when you were giving
me a little song and dance about the
colonel's daughter, you mentioned an
other woman—though not by name, if
vou happen to recollect. I was just
wondering if this Miss Rich-people, nr
whatever her name is, might be the
other one."
Again the new secretary laughed—
this time without embarrassm«*nt.
"You've cail(*d the turn, Billy. She is
the other one."
"H'm; chasing you up?"
"Oh, no; it was just one of the
near-miracles. She «lidn't know I
was here, and I had no hint that she
was coming."
"All right ; it's your roast ; not mine.
But I'm going to pull one chestnut out
of the fire for you, even if I do get
my fingers burned. This Miss Rich
folks has had only one day here in
Brewster, but she's used it in getting
mighty chummy with the Stantons.
Does that figure as news to you?"
"It does," said Smith simply: and he
added: "I don't understand it."
"Funny," remarked the ex-cowman.
"It didn't hall me up for more than a
minute or two. Stanton fixed it some
way—because he needed to. Tell me
something, John; could this Miss Rich- !
it.
it.
a
!
, . - » •
garden help Stanton out in any of bis
,*1.1 . _____ « notion? '
little schemes, if she took a notion?
Smith turned away and stared at the
blackened square
a
of outer darkness
lying beyond the office window.
' "She could, Billy—but she won't," he
answered.
"You can dig up your last dollar and
bet on that, can you?"
"Yes, I think I can."
"H'm; that's just what I was most
afraid of."
"Don't be an ass, Billy."
"I'm trying mighty hard not to be.
of j you !' "
j Smith's grin was half antagonistic,
"You are an ass. Billy," he asserted,
| **i never was in love with Verda Rich
lander, nor she with me."
John, but sometimes the ears will grow i
on the best of us—in spite of the devil.
What I mean is this: I saw you two
when you came out of the Hophra
ilining room together last night, and I
saw the look in that girl's eyes. Do
you know what I said to myself right
then, John? I said: 'Oh, y«>u little giil
out at the Hillcrest ranch— good-by,
Speak for yourself and let it hang
there, John. You can't speak for the
woman—no man ever can. W hat I m
honing now is that she doesn't know
1!
anything about you that Stanton could
make use of."
Again the High Line's new secretary
turned to stare at the black back
grounded window.
j "You mean that she might hear of—
j of Miss Corolla?" lie suggested.
"You've roped it down, at least," said
the friendly enemy. "Stanton'll tell
her—he'll t«'ll her anything and every
thing that might make her turn loose
! any little bit of information she
mii v
have about you. As I said a minut
ago, I'm hoping she hasn't got anything
on you, John."
Smith was still facing th** window
when he repli«*«!. "I'm sorry to have
to disappoint you. Starbuck. What j
Miss Richlander could do to me, if she |
chooses, would be good and plenty." j
The ex-cowboy mine owner drew a j
long breath and felt for his tobacco j
sack and rice paper.
"All of which opens up more talk j
trails," he said thoughtfully. "Since j
you wouldn't try to take care of your- j
self, and since your neck happens to j
be the most valuable asset Timanyon*
;
•Stanton Fixed
It Some Way."
!
j
:
!
!
High I.in«* has. just at present. I'vm
been hutting in. as T tnld you. Listen
to my tale of woe. if you haven't any- j
tiling better to do. Besides the Miss ;
Ricli-ranches episode there art* a
couple of others. Want to hear about
'em?"
Smith nodded.
"All right. A little while past din
nor this evening. Stanton had a hurry
call to meet the 'Nevada Flyer.' Tailed
! dll IU Hirt I I m
oQto the train there was a private lux
ufy Cftr an( , |n the priV att' car sat a
j p ,, nt j eni ' an whose face you've seen
ar
Jet'll l 111 till « n"* 1 ' * ** v ^ *'
, . nty of times in t he political c
1(Mms ' usual]v w ith cuss-words un
!
under
it. He is one of Stanton's bosses; anti
Stanton was in for a wigging—and got
it. I couldn't hear, hut I could se«*—
through the car window. He had Stan
ton standing on one foot before the
train pulled out and let Crawford
make his get-away. You guess, and
I'll guess, and we'll both say it was
about this Escalante snap which is
aiming to be known as the Escalante
fizzle. Ain't it the truth?"
Again Smith nodded, and said, "Go
on." j
"After number five hail gone Stanton
broke for his autocab, looking like he
could bite a nail in two. I happened
to hear the order he gave the shover. |
ami I had my cayuse hitched over at
Bob Sharkey's joint. Naturally, I
a milled along after Crawford, and
while I didn't heat him to it. I got i
there soon enough. It was out at Jeff
Barton's roadhouse on the Topaz trail. :
•md Stanton was shut up in the buck
! room with a sort of tin-horn 'bad man' |
named Lanterby." !
"You listened?" said Smith still
without eagerness.
"Right you are. And they fooled me.
Two schemes were on tap: tine point
ing at Williams anti tin* (lain, and the
other at you. These were both last
resorts;' Stanton said ht* had ont* mort
string to pull first. If that broke—
SI riliu II» I Ml » I H» •* .....
lt | ia if „ dozen times
' * * ...... ,
already, John : you'll either have to
hire a bodyguard «>r go heeled. I'm
tolling you right here and now, that
hunch is going to got you, even if it
costs money !"
"You say Stanton said he had one
mort* string to pull : he «litln t give it
a name, did lie?"
"No, but I've got a notion of my
own," was the ready answer. "He's
trying to get next to you through th«*
women, with tilt* Miss Rich-pasture for
his can opener But when everything
i e j ge f ai ] s he {s t(1 son d a password
to Lanterby, one of two passwords.
'Williams' means dynamite and the
dam; 'Jake' means the removal from
the map of a fellow named Smith. Nice
prospect, isn't it?"
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
I
Sad News.
"The expectant heir to his uncle 3
millions, anxiously asked the doctor
when liis uncle was taken ill, if there
was no hope."
"What did the doctor say?"
"He told him there was no hope
whatever. The chances were nis
uncle would get well enough to mart,«
his housekeeper.
p i m m
Vi mm
yil & MARY GRAMM KMfk
BRAVE MOCKING BIRD.
1! v
'I have a
■ning. children.'
'«•king bird.
•Mr. Mitchell M
im* and he was :
of children. Th
is add speak n
Mi
:> tell you this
said 1 »tidily, "ot a
eking Bird was liis
pet in u large fnm
y all loved him and
good many words,
• so many
fact Mitchell was very accom
■d und he knew a great many fine
j
|
j
j
j
j
j
j
j
and he could sing lik.
birds.
"In
plisin
tricks.
"Whenever the children wanted to
give a circus. Mi'ohdl was their best
performer and he was very proud of
standing on a little platform and mak
ing a bow and then doing his different
trieks.
"He shrieked with delight when the
children clapped him and he was al
ways extremely happy on circus day!
"lie had never been to a real circus,
of course, but he loved the home circus
days and lie used to like to watch the
children act too.
"lie would put his head from one
side to the other, as much as to say,
'That is a very nice trick.' And when
It was all over he would «'ill! shrilly
and say.'Hoodie ! Goodie"
"Mitchell was allowed n great deal
of freedom. He had been hurt when
he was very small and the children
had nursed him hack to strength and
health, and he had never left them.
One of his wings had never grown
quite well and Iip couldn't fly a great
deal, hut he wandered about ns he
th
,
wanted to.
"Tie had a nice, rnmfortnble cage In j
the «lining room and he always slept j
there at night.
"He never made any noise In the
morning until the family got up. He
kept absolutely quite until then. And
yet. after the family were up. he made
a great deal of noise for he felt just
like It In the mornings.
"One night, though, Mitchell began
to scream. How he did yell ! Pierc
ing yells went all through the house!
! And he hurried from one bedroom to
j another. He awoke the mother and
daddy of the children first and then he
woke up th«* children.
"'Com«*!' he called. Tt was a word
h«* could say. and In* kept repeating it
over and over again.
"'Point*! Pom«*! Porn«*!' And they
all hurried, one after the other, ami
: followed the mocking bird downstair*.
! "What should they see but a tiny
blaze, which every few minutes
s ■tuned to grow and splutter and hurst
! into a bigger flame.
j '"Water! Everyone get water!' :
; (shouted the children's daddy, and the j
mocking bird kept calling:
" 'Come !'
"They were all thoroughly fright
ened but they kept their wits about
!
I
!
;
;
i
;
!
j
;
I
[
i
i
:
j
i
;
j
•What a Brave Bird You Are!
them and kept filling buckets and Jugs
of water which they poured over the
flame.
"After a little while It was out. But
the whole of the couch In the dining
room had been spoiled both by flames
and water.
i "'Oh, If that had spread,' shivered
the children's mother. 'All around are
: things which would have caught afire,
And I was sleeping so soundly.'
| '"We were sleeping soundly, too,'
! s" 1 ' 1 ,h<> chiklron '
j
; the
-
'
in
I
; fin
■
j
!
the
the
a
a
ful
j
j
|
i
!
i
1
I
a
:
j
j
j
1
I
..
"Who can tell '
" T never even smelt smoke,' said
their daddy.
"The mocking bird looked all tired
out. His eves blinked ns If he could
hardly keep awake, ami it was just
then that everyone of them noticed
him.
" 'Mitchell, you have saved the house
nnd our lives. That fire would hnve
spread and goodness only knows what
would have happened.' said their
daddv. 'What a fine, brave bird you
àre.'
"And the children stroked Mitchell ;
and said :
" 'Fine, brave bird. Daddy says so,
ton! Our lovely Mitchell Mocking
Bird.'
"Mitchell was almost asleep. The
fin* was out. Tie had finished his work. [
lb* was ready tn rest now. He didn't (
care about praise. But in* was happy ;
that they all lov«*d him so. And how
he cared for them. IT«* had saved them |
and they knew it. He was very happy, j
And in his own bird way he had ;
thought all this out.
"But to the great surprise of them
nil, Mitchell said a word they had
never known he could say. but it was
Just tin* right one, 'Safe, all safe,' said
Mitchell, as he went to sleep."
Faith in Safety Pins.
"There Is hut one thing in this world
that we can put our faith and reliance
in with confidence, children," snld th<* j
Sunday school teacher,
what it is?" "Safety pins," promptly
answered a little girl.
/~
c
DIXIE
Author of FAKTcW
5TPEAH GAT 1Eri5HM
?r
live bait— the minnow.
Mv dear Buck:
For an all round live bait that has
e reputation of bringing home the
most any time during the open
the minnow family,
is a large tribe.
th
bacon.
season, give us
which, by the way.
Some fishermen call any small fish a
minnow, which is wrong, us the minnow
family is u distinct line made up of
over one hundred different species and
and lakes have
most small streams
thirty species in their \va
1 the minnow in all
d shiner
from ten t.
tors. You will fine
sorts of places, the spot-tail«*«:
mainly In the lakes, fullflsh m the
large streams and chub in the smaller
streams. The minnows taken from the
rapid flowing waters and riffles make
th.* sturdiest >*it and at the same
time the liveliest as their constant
fight with the swift current g.vos them
, 1U)re "pep" than the minnow from
the gravel-bars or the deeper, quieter
j () j s
j Try Out Different Minnows.
:
j
! in most all fishing waters some par
I ticuiar minnow has the reputation «>
! being the one best bet and It is well
; to follow the dope of the local tisher
; men or guides, at the same time the
i trying out of another specie may mean
; better fishing all the way around.
For muskellunge, pike or pickerel
! the larger sized minnows, say about
j eight to ten inches, are the best bait
; and it's a toss-up between the fall
I fish creek or river chub, silver shiner.
[ or black sucker. All of these baits are
i fine lures for casting or trolling.
For black bass the silver shiner or
dace seems to be the minnow that
i tickles his fancy and its silvery sides
: make a great shining in dation under
water. It is a good bait lor any time
or condition of water ami is particu
larly fine on dark and cloudy days or
are
mouth
in rough water. River or creek chubs
hardy minnows with a tough
that holds well on the hook
and tin* fact Unit they are more lively
j than tlie sliiuer, makes them attrac
i tive liait to m«*st fishermen. On bright
; days with clear and still water tlie
j chub is second to none as a fish getter.
Catfish and Perch as Bait,
j Tin* small catfish called by some,
; the stonecat, mad-torn, bullhead or
pout is a bait that will surprise the
bass fisherman who has never used it.
- Early and late in the season, young
' yellow perch can he used to advantage
in lake fishing, however, to get the liest
I results from the perch bait, the dorsal
; fin should be clipped off. This opera
■ tion does not Impair the vitality of the
j yovng perch, if done quickly with a
! Bcissors, or a sharp knife.
For bass or wall-eyed pike a min
now four to five inches long Is about
the right size. This sized minnow is
livelier nnd will last much longer on
the hook than the smaller ones. Even
a small bass, a half pounder, will make
a drive for this sized liait, while it is
sure the happy medium for the old
granddaddy who has a man's sized
feed bag to fill. As a general thing
the lnrge sizt'd bass like a good mouth
ful and there is not much chance of
using a minnow they cannot handle.
How to Hook the Minnow.
In baiting the hook with the min
now, pass the hook through the lower
lip and out the nostril or If the min
now is of a large size, run the hook
through bc.th lips. For still fishing
where the water is quiet hook the
minnow, if small, through the back,
above the backbone and just behind
the dorsal fin. Chubs and suckers can
be hooked through both lips which
are very strong on these species,
With the proper care minnows can
be kept in good shape for an indefinite
period. In camp a permanent min
now box should be sunk in the water
along the shore of the stream or lake,
nnd the bottom of the box filled with
gravel nnd stones. Wire screen over
both ends gives a steady r' mge of
water. Always dip the mi ,ws into
i the minnow bucket with a .mail dip
net and don't handle them. Leave
1 that until you place them on the hook.
It !s best to use a large sized minnow
I bucket and if there is to hi* much of
a carry, put a bunch of water weeds
: in the pail, this saves them from in
j Jury caused by rough tnnM. In cur
rying minnows any distance don't
crowd 'em, fifty to a five-gallon pail
is plenty. A pinch of salt added to
j the water once or twice during 'he
j days fishing gives 'em life. <": nia*
the water often, don't wait until tie*
1 minnows come to the top. 1 hat's ni. " it
I the time they art* rendj to turn I * .!y
up* A mighty good plan is t > * to
along n small bicycle pump an i a t.*
tlie wnter every now ami t! n by
pumping air down into it. A goo*! plan
t«» follow in changing tin* water in
,.........from
' Ü * lc, k'bt of say two or three feet, that
carries air Into the water nnd >h**
minnow sure needs air as well as u
human being. DIXIE.
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j ; -n-nnow pnil is to pour it