Vernon County censor. [volume], February 08, 1911, Image 7

About Vernon County censor. [volume] (Viroqua, Wis.) 1865-1955

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MS SQM LI
Soaptox Dabie?
fey MARIA THOMPSON MfIESS
TlkistreHoivy \>y G. iver*
COPYRIGHT J 909. THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPAMV
CHAPTER I.
Ethel Maud Sews Her Thumb.
“If grown-ups would Jest chaw one
another's good luck, they could get a
heap of satisfaction from It.”
—Miss Selina hue.
"Miss Sellny Lue! Oh—Oh—o—
ho. Miss Seliny Lue! Boo —hoo —hoo
“You, Bonnie, honey, quit crying this
minute and tell me what the matter
Is. Come here and let me see!” And
Miss Selina Lue made a grab for the
grief-contorted youngster who was
•dancing with excitement in the gro
cery door. “Now, where is the place?
Put your hand where you hurt If you
can't say it!"
"Oh —ho—ho, ’tain’t me a-tall! It’S
Ehel Maud, and she's sewed herself
in the sewing-machine and pa's cus
sing something orful and ma’s sick to
her stomick. Please, ma’am, come
quick and git her out!”
“Lands alive!” said Miss Selina Lue
as she reached with one hand for a
sunbonnet hanging on the wall and
pulled the top on the pickle barrel
with the other. “Miss Cynthia, honey,
can't you stay here for a few minutes
until I can send Mr. Dobbs back to
tend the store? And whatever you do,
don’t let nothing happen to the babies
In the Boap-boxes. The redheaded
Flartty twin has been trying to turn
itis’n oyer all morning; watch him.
Please hand me that turkey-tail duster
hanging over there on the wall, while
I straighten out my water waves. They
ain’t nothing like burnt feathers or
hair to bring up them that's in a faint,
and I never go without ’em to burn.”
And after a quick glance into her lit
tle bedroom inlrror, Miss Selina Lue
hurried down the street, leaving an
uncertainty as to whether the turkey
tall or her own soft waves were to be
sacrificed In the* cause of resuscita
tion.
“Gracious me, Miss Seliny Lue,
■who’s hurt now?” called Mrs. Kinney
from her side do<J\ standing with a
hot flat-iron dangliflg from her hand.
Mrs. Jim Peters alsft hailed from her
kitchen window, but Miss Selina Lue
kept sternly on her course, piloted by
the sobbing but important Bennie.
In the first of the three rooms that
formed the Dobbs residence Miss Se
lina Lue found the pathetic little fig
ure of Ethel Maud hanging against the
corner of the sewing machine while
Mr. Dobbs, red and embarrassed, stood
trembling by the window, and the ma
ternal relative of the young sufferer
leaned against a chair, vhite and heav
ing.
At sight of the deliverer, Ethel Maud
gave a relieved whimper and her tou
seled head fell over on Miss Selina
Lue's bosom, the depths of which were
stirred by more than the mere suffer
ing of a pinioned finger, and which
took sympathetic note of sweating,
masculine misery and white-faced, in
efficient mother-flutterings.
“Hurry on over to mind the store
for me, Mr. Dobbs,” she said with a
kind glance at him. “I can git her
loose in a minute. And, Mis’ Dobbs,
quick as you can. set the kettle on the
stov* in the kitchen for some hot wa
ter to take out the swell. We’ll be
read r as soon as you git back with it."
So, vastly relieved, with one accord
the parents disappeared through oppo
site doors, thus leaving Miss Selina
Lue with the limp and whimpering bag
to hold.
“There, there, chickie-blddie,” she
crooned to the little white ear buried
against her neck as she raised the
arm and hand and with a quick, dex
terous turn of the needle released the
small pink thumb. “It ain’t injured
much. However did you come to sew
your thumb?”
“We was trying to see what made
the top of it go and she got in the
way.” volunteered Bennie, who was
the only member of the family that
had stood by the afflicted one. Al
though his distress had been genuine,
there is an attraction to ten years in
flowing blood, even though that same
blood be consangmeous. “Shoo! that
didn't bleed half as much as my toe
did last week," he further remarked.
“It did! It did!” wailed the small
sufferer, for the first time giving away
to the to-be-expected lamentations of
cne injured. “Everybody stumps they's
toes, but they didn't ever anybody get
sewed up in a sewing machine before.”
Bennie was on the point of arguing
the question when he was overtaken
by swift retribution for his seeming
heartlessness in the shape of a wet
dish-towel that spanked across his
shoulders with a sting.
"Bennie Dobbs, I am ashamed of you
fer your unfeelingness to your little
sister,” cried his mother, who stood in
the doorway with a cracked, yellow
bowl of hot water In one hand and the
towel in the other. “You are just like
all men folks, a-trying to make light
of the sufferings of women which they
can’t none of you know nothing about.
Men always look at women troubles
outen the little end of the horn. There
was Dobbs standing there a-cussing
me ’cause my stomick turns at the
sight of Mood, and him the one to un
sew his own children if so comes they
need it.” Mrs. Dobbs was still white
about tlie mouth, and the tears were
still undried on her red, round, shiny
cheeks. She slopped the water over
Miss Selina Lue’s shoulder and soused
one of Ethel Maud’s little pigtail plaits
as she handed over the bowl with a
sniffle.
“There, there, Mis’ Dobbs, you know
they ain’t a mite of harm in Mr.
Dobbs; and as fer cussir.’, looks like
that sinful habit is all the let-ofT t. man
have got, while a wonu.£ can break
up dishes, slam the stove lids, spank
the children, and make berself a cup
of tea to ease her nerves, and no
body even knows she’s upsot.”
"That’s all very well for a woman
that's as free as you is. Miss Seliny
Lue; but a married woman has feei
lngs you can't never understand, and
one of ’em is a cussing husband.”
“That's so, and I reckon I can’t
hardly sense your feelings In that
case, but If I had a-married, and he had
a-felt a cause fer cussing—There now,
she’s done doze off with the sooth
ing of the hot water! Open my bag
there and git me that old linen hand
kerchief tored into strips. Don't take
oft this rag tonight, and I’ll fix it again
in the morning.'' Miss Selina Lue laid
the relaxed little figure on the bed
without causing a tremor of the whits
eyelids.
“Law, Miss Seliny Lue, it do seem
a shame you ain't got ten of your own,
you are that kinder hovering-llke with
them. I shore am sorry for you,”
said the grateful mother as she Jabbed
in the dart of her sympathy with a
smile.
“Well, I don't know but It's best as
it Is,” answered Miss Selina Lue with
spirit, “fer you all are so good about
letting me help with yours. People
kinder grow along towards what they
think about; and as I think baby tend
ing a good pa-t of the day, come night
I feel like I was the mother of twen
ty. Mind not to take off that rag until
i see 11 again.”
In a few minutes Miss Selina Lue
departed p.nd attempted to hasten
down the street, but was Interrupted
at every turn, it seemed. On the cor
ner she met Mr. Dobbs, whose steps
were faltering towards home.
“Miss Seliny Lue,” he said sheep
ishly, with his face turned away from
her, “If it had a-been Ben, now, I could
—er —done it; but the little 'un —I—l
“Mr. Dobbs, I respect you fer your
feelings fer X seen the thought ter
help were In your mind, but Ethel
Maud is a slimsy little thing as would
"Wli
**7al 7/ ! l\
.j^===
“Gracious Me, Miss Seliny Lue, Who’s Hurt Now?" Called Mrs. Kinney
From Her Side Door.
be hard for a man to handle. She is
asleep, and I expect Mis’ Dobbs have
got your dinner ready by now."
”1 thank you, Miss Seliny Lue,
ma’am, and I do say as how you be the
master hand with the young ’uns. I
was jest a-telling Miss Cynthie, who Is
a-waiting to see you, that it do seem
a pity ”
Miss Selina Lue’s progress down the
street was resumed before Mr. Dobbs
had exactly formulated the regrets he
wished to express, but whose nature
Miss Selina Lue inferred from expe
rience.
But her hurried return to her own
affairs was not to be permitted by the
anxious neighbors along the path of
duty which she had trod so excitedly
with Bennie Dobbs an hour before.
Mrs. Kinney had been sitting on the
hot stove or curiosity, and her face
was determined and her voice was
compelling as she hailed from her
stoop.
• Wait a minute, Miss Seliny Lue,
can’t you? Whatever was the matter
with the Dobbses?” she said, draping
herself over the picket-fence as if she
had come to hear the news If It took
all morning and all the backbone she
possessed to extract It,
"It was a bad accident, but It might
er been worse if she had a-run it in
her eye, though that woulder been
hard for her to do unless it had been
something like a knitting needle. A
thumb ain’t so much U3e except in
peeling potatoes and sich, as a sorter
balance wheel for the rest of the
hand," answered Miss Selina Lue, com
mencing in the dramatic part of the
tale without any unnecessary pream
ble.
“Now. ain’t that like Mary Ellen
Dobbs? I never seen sich a person fer
keerlessness. It's a wonder she ain’t
did It before! It will be powerful awk
ward to be without a thumb when It
comes to going to meeting in a genteel
way with gloves ’’
"It was Ethel Maud, Mis’ Kinney
"Ethel Maud? Who ever heard of
a child injuring her mother? Miss
Seliny Lue, she must have the rabies
Maybe she was bit by a mad dog when
her mother didn't know It. I reckon
1 better call my children on this side
of the street till 1 see what happens.”
''Alts’ Kinney, ma’am, please wait till
I tell you the straight of It. Ethel
Maud sewed her thumb In the sewing
machine, and she ain’t hurled bad at
ail. In a day or two ”
“Well. Miss Seliny Lue, I take It
hard indeed that you let me get so up
ot over the troubles of one of my
neighbors that ain’t anything at all.
I never expected no such treatment
from you that I calls ”
‘‘Oh, Mis' Kinney, honey." pleaded
Miss Selina Lue, with an eager pat on
the heaving shoulder, "I wouldn't hurt
your feelings fer worlds. Now, who
but you coulder been so kind and,
thought up all them afflictions fer the
Dobbeses?"
"That's Jest It,” sobbed the friendly
one; “I takes more interest in my
friends’ doings than I do in my own,
and I don’t believe they appreciate it
like they oughter, neither. Sometimes
they are so cold to me when I ask
questions Jest outen sympathy.”
"Yes, they do. Mis’ Kinney, honey,
and don’t you go to doubting your
friends, which is a poor thing for any
body to do. When you want to sym
pathize with me I am always glad to
git it and consider it a blessed thing
to have, whether I need It or not.
Sympathy is jest the pure juice of the
heart squeezed out fer a frlen.' ”
“That’s like you, Miss Sellny Lue,
a-patching up people’s hurt feelings
and children with kind words and rags.
I was a-saying to Mr. Kinney last
night, when he went and got that
cough medicine for Luella from you,
that It's a plumb shame you ain’t got
a round dozen husbands and children
of Oh, must you go? Please,
ma'am, don't fergit to make me anoth
er mess of that medicine; she do
cough so, come night.”
The haven of her grocery door, her
neglected business, aud the shade of
her own hackberry tree which hung
over the front stoop of the store lay
in the sight of Miss Selina Lue, when
another hail sounded from the other
side of the street. Mrs. Jim Peters'
shining face nodded at the window as
she held up a small white bundle and
beckoned hy waving a tiny red hand.
"You ain’t been In to see him fer two
days, Miss Seliny Lue, and we’s both
gittin’ downright hurt with you," she
said. Mrs. Jim Peters was very, very
young; Jim was also young and was
conductor on the "'Lectrlc;’’ and Jim,
Junior, was the youngest, of all; in
fact was of such a youngness that he
was still blushing into fiery red with
mortification over his very recent cit.
izenship.
“Don’t you think he have growed?”
she demanded. “He will be four weeks
old tomorrow and I have promised Jim
to take him fer a ride on the ten forty
car. He wants to show him to Mr.
Kill, the motorman. Poor man, he
hasn’t been married yet and we fee!
so sorry fer him! Jim said last night,
when I let him hold the baby while I
got supper, that he Jest couldn't help
but wi D h that Mr. Hill could have
something to live fer. And I told him
as that was Jest t K e way I felt about
you. Miss Seliny Lue. It do seem that
if ever a woman Oh, please don’t
hurry, I want you to see his feet, how
they have growed, and I think If you
could set down a spell he might smile
like he did this morning!"
"Did he show any signs of colic last
night, like them squirming", and draw,
ing up of his knees?”
"Oh. no, ma’am! I put the flannel
band you sent over right on and Jim
said when be brought it that there nev
er was such a person as you for know
ing what to do with a pain in t. baby.
People might think you hau half a
Oh. good-by good-by. if you must go!
Look, he is kissing his hand to you!"
and Mrs. Jim Peters -atehed her guest
out of the gate dreamily. "My! I clean
fergot to ask what was the matter
with the Dobbses,” she woke up and
exclaimed to berself.
On the other side of the street, only
a few hundred yards away, the cool
door of the grocery yawned and the
top branch of the backberry beckoned
in a friendly little breeze. Miss Se
lina Lue hurried her ste, ; and as she
walked she waved the turkey-tail in
vigorous encouragement of the tiny
zephyr. She was generous of propor
tion was Miss Selfna Lue, tall, broad
and strong, deep bosomed, and flash
ing of eye, though with a spirit of such
gentleness that one might almost read
as one ran.
(to be ooKnwtnsnj
Open Thy Doors.
Open Thv doors. O my soul,
@To ocean and sky and plain.
WV To shell me shore, and breakers' roar.
LSx^i. 1 / And Un mountains that shout again. /
Sj3L ''iJjtX °P* n thv doors. Omy soul. \
To tin . . nt of the climbing rose. Y •
t Y To the i: .t,low's sweep, and the drowsy J ; LSt!lfi- •
sheep.
And the woodland's deep repose.
—Sunset Magazine.
Her Tardy Coming
By STACY E. BAKER
Cornelia Dean suddenly received a
letter from John Oliver answering
pertinent questions that had been
asked of him twenty years before.
Cornelia, still a spinster and a
most comely one —was surprised, t he
yellowed pages, the faded Ink. and
the date line told her that the letter
had been written on the day follow
ing her Imperative demands, while
the postoffloe stamp rbowed lliat the
letter had been mailed from Boston
but one day before.
Romance had long been dead In
the heart of Cornelia Dean. She had
loved John Oliver nobly and faith
fully. and when he had passed out of
her life as a lover, none other had
come In. A flush on her pretty
cheeks, the little lady carefully
opened the letter, and read, for the
fifth time, its contents.
"My dearest: I have watted several
days—and Impatiently—for the letter
you wanted me to read and answer
before coming for your answer to my
proposal—and now It Is here
“I know, dear, that I am practically
a Btranger to you and the good people
of Sneedville, but In Boston, where,
ns you know, my father owns a large
dry goods store, I am well known.
My reputation In my own town will
stand the test of Investigation.
“Now. to answer your questions.
"1. I do not touch liquor. Have
never used Intoxicants In tnv life.
“2. No; If you consent to marry me
we cannot live in Sneedville, hut.
must make Boston our home, where
I will eventually go into business with
my father.
”3. I will give up smoking, If you
wish me to.
You know that I will nlways
love you. There Is no need to ask
this. Ask, rather, your own heart.
“Here, in great, lonely Bos.on. 1 am
waitin' i note bidding me to come
to you. ou will realize how lonesome
I am. and you will answer at once
I am sure of this.
“Always yours.
“JOHN OLIVER."
The ancient screed fell to the lap
of the little lady, and tears glistened
In her eyes as her thoughts wandered
away In reminiscent reverie. John
Oliver! She could see him now, a
stalwart, manly youth. He came to
wll
“I* There Anything I Can Do for
You?”
woo her, the most popular girl In
Sneedville. She remembered herself
as she looked then —a mere wisp of
a girl, to be sure, but with that win
some prettiness that allowed her to
pick and choose from the ranks of
the best and most popular men In the
city.
Blue eyes, and a wonderful head of
wavy brown hair that was at once
the envy and delight of her girl
chums, had been among the potent
gifts given her by the goddess of
beauty, and she bad most careful
taste In dress. All these, and count
less other feminine attractions, had
won to her the young Bostonian who
was spending his summer vacation In
Sneedville.
He had proposed, but before she
would answer him she had sent him
away until she could compile a list
of questions. These be was to an
swer by mall. She did not wish him
to plead his own cause.
Cornelia Dean sat for the greater
BEST OF WAYS TO Gi VE HELP
How a Wealthy Woman Made Tactful
Gifts to Many Girls Who Had
Little Money.
A number of wec’tby women were
discussing what they considered the
best form of charity, when one who
had but recently Joined this charmed
circle through her marriage to a
man of that part of the world said:
’’Well, I can tel! you of something
that a very dear friend of mine used
to do, not even calling it charity, but
as I was one of those benefited I can
say that it was, and of the highest
kind. She had an income that seemed
fabulous to all of us giris, who had
but little spending money, and in
sotho way she ascertained Just about
bow much several of us had.
"At fbristma* and other days of
celebration correspondingly impo. tant
c3 eb of u? get :• note tha* was no;
ong. but full of affection and en
•ouragement loeir.seu was a check
hat somehow was always just Up.
Copyright, ipu, by Associated Literary Presa
part of an hour dreaming. When she
was again mistress of her thoughts,
a great resolve had been made within
her. Cornelia had decided to go to
Boston! She had not been out of
town since the death of her parents,
some ten years before.
"But —what shall I wear?” asked
Cornelia, speaking, as was her wont,
to herself. "Surely If —if I find him
I must look as nearly as possible like
the girl he knew. Nothing that I
have now will do. I must be more —
more up-to-date; more like the girls
of today. I am not so —so old, any
way. even If I do dress plainly. 1
haven't a gray hair In my hend.”
At last the day of her departure
came, and the little cottage was
safely locked, the key hidden in a
plant rack on the porch, and the
more than pretty little lady on her
way to the station.
The trip was a frightful one to the
unsophisticated Cornelia, and a sigh
of relief came to her lips when she
found herself safely arrived Boston
wns a larger city than she had Imag
ined She began to realize the hope
lessness of her quest.
The address of hts —John's —old
home was burned Indelibly on her
brain. She called there after depos
iting her little baggage at a modest
hotel. She found herself In front of
a roofless domicile, the clapboards of
which were being rapidly stripped
from the scantlings. In consternation
she stood an Idle second watching
the workers reduce the building.
"Is there anything I can do for
you?"
Unconsciously she had entered the
gate shuttin,T the lot of this building
from the stre“t. A man In the garb
of a carpenter stood before her.
“I—I” Cornela hesitated. "I was
hunting for the residence of the Oli
vers. They used to live here. 1 be
lieve?"
"Moved," elucidated the man briefly
"This is the site of a skyscraper that
the Olivers are having erected. This
plot Is too valuable for a residence to
occupy It's right In the heart of
things, as you might say.”
"But can you tell me where the—
where John Oliver lives?”
"With his parents, I believe; but as
to that. I don’t know. I don't even
know where they have moved to
Young Mr. Oliver 1s here almost every
] day to see how the work progresses,
j Can I give him nome message?"
i “Tell him that Cornelia Dean was
j here."
"Cornelia Dean,” repealed the man
i "O—then you're the lady to whom the
i letter went!”
"What -what letter?" asked the
puzzled Cornelia.
“One of my men found an old let
ter, sealed and addressed to you, un
der the tin roof of this house Some
one. while inspecting the timber
probably, .liter the shingles were off,
had dropped It, and the tin Utters
covered It up without noticing 1
mailed it.”
■‘o“ gasped Cornelia.
“Here comes Mr. John Oliver now ”
The carpenter failed to notice the
woman’s embarrassment. A well built
man of about forty years of age ap
proached. As he came nearer a puz
zled look crept into his eyes, and
then suddenly his pace quickened and
he advanced, both hands outstretched
"You!” cried John Oliver, the trem
bllng fingers of the woman pressed
closed In his; and there, before the
wondering eyes of the men. he kissed
her. "I have waited centuries for
you," he said
A Gift Book.
"Yes, do you serd me a book . . .
not a bargain book bought from a
haberdasher, but a beautiful book, a
book to caress —peculiar, distinctive.
Individual; a book that hatii first
caught yot'r eye and then pleased your
fancy written by an author with a
tender whim, all right out of his heart
j We will read It together In the gloam
lng. and when the gathering dusk doth
j blur the page, and sit with hearts too
I full for speech and think It over."—
I Dorothy Wordsworth In Coleridge.
Swiftest Runners.
The two swiftest runners of the anl
; mal creation are the kangaroo and the
ostrich.
amount most needed for some special
object tuat seemed almost unattain
able by e7en our best efforts.
“She never by any means interested
herself In girls with extravagant
tastes, but they always were those
of tbe set in which she moved, and
who really needed such help as she
gave, to eke out tbelr own small
means. So that is how my over
income is going.
“The endowed and established char
ities are before the world, and be
quests to these come from all quar
ters, but to well bred poverty without
rich relatives but little help Is apt V
drift. Friends of such persons cannot
assume that they are in need, and
few know how to send help as mj
friend proved it could be sent. I in
'end to emula'e her example, as 1
think this form of charity one whirl
is too much neglected by those of w
ho could do It without giving offer;.-;
or making those we are really fond o‘
feel that they are object* of pity.”
John Henry
J AND HIS SAD FRIEND
By GEORGE V. HOBART
"I brought Tacks with me because
I had to do some shopping, and he’s
so much company," Clara J. explained,
when 1 Joined them at the restaurant
by appointment.
‘Tacks is always pleasant com
pany.” I said, politely, but I deter
mined to keep a watchful eye on my
jrouthful brother in-law. nevertheless.
That kid was born with an abnor
mal bump of mischief and by pains
taking endeavor he has won the
world's championship as an organ
iser of Impromptu riots.
“Oh, John!” said Clara J. when I
began to m&ko faces at the menu
card, "I didn’t notice until now how
pale you look. Have you had a busy
day ?”
“Busy!” I replied; “well, rather.
I’ve been giving imitations of a bull
fight. Everybody I met was the bull
and I was the fight. Nominate your
eats! What’ll It be. Tacks?”
“Sponge cake,” said Tacks promptly.
"What else?" asked Clara J.
"More sponge cake,” the youth re
plied. and just then the smiling and
sympathetic waiter stooped down to
pick up a fork Tacks had dropped.
hr his anxiety not to miss any
thing, Tacks rubbered acrobatically,
with the result that he upset a glass
of Ice water down the waiter's neck,
and three seconds later the tray
trotter had Issued an extra and was
saying things In French that would
sound scandalous if translated.
It cost me a dollar to bring the dlsh
dragger back to earth, and Tacks said
I could break hta bank open when we
got home and take all the money if I'd
let him do It again.
"Uncle Peter Is delighted beyond
measure with your business ability,"
Clara J. Informed me after the treaty
“Old Friend Life Time Threw Me Down ”
of peace had been signed with the
waiter.
“He has a right, to be!” i muttered,
painfully, as I thought of my recent
swift ride down the mountain side on
D. Q. & N 1 had had a profit of
$7,000 in it anti then it went down
and wiped me out.
“He suys that by following his di
rections carefully you are seven
thousand richer today, /re you,
John?”
"Sure, Peaches!” I answered truth
fully, "I’m seven to the good."
For my late uncle bad left me seven
horses, which had Just, been brought
to me from Kentucky by Murf Hlg
glnbottom, his old trainer.
I neglected to add the word skates,
but, then, what’s a little thing like
that amount to among friends?
“Seven In one day,” sho suid, en
thusiastically.
"Seveu in one day--one of them
with four white feet,” 1 said, like a
man in a dream.
"What do you mean?” Clara J.
asked; "Is that a Wail street ex
pression ?”
"No,” I answered hastily; "I was
only talking to myself and I held the
'phone too close to my mouth. Let’s
start this banquet with a hot wave—
waiter, clam cocktails for three!"
“Uncle Peter, Aunt Martha and i
had a long talk today about your
prospects in Wall street,” Clara .1.
rattled on. “Oh, John, you don’t
know how happy It makes me feel to
think that you'll never, never go near
ttiose awful race tracks again.”
My thoughts look the ferry for Jer
sey City, and I could hear Murf Hlg
glnbottom saying, ”Yo’ Uncle Owen
considered yo' all as big Casino on the
eastern tracks. sub"’
“You'll make a lot of money with
the seven you got today, won't you.
dear 7 ” Peaches asked encouragingly.
"Possibly," I replied, nervously;
“still, you never can tell They may
get into the habit of running back
wards- er, 1 mean, the market is very
uncertain!—Tacks, take your thumb
out of that buttr!"
”1 was so sorry I couldn't get you
no the ’phone early this afternoon,”
Clara .!. informed me. "I called up
your broker's office down town, but
they couldn’t find you."
Dike put In. “If I don’t get ’pology
I’ll bust out crying!”
“When did you see me In Jersey
City? How dare you make such an
accusation against me?” I demanded.
“John," said Dikw, trying earnestly
to look at mo gravely. ”1 sbaw you
in Jershee Shizzy zlsh aft’noon. Pen
sb lon van! a station, zish aft'noon.
Spoke to you politely- you threw me
down. Followed you to demand 'pol
ogy—you gave me shake.” Saying
this he grabbed a wine glass from the
table and held it close to'"his h-art In
order to illustrate the Intensity of his
feeling.
T 1 e next instant a thick reddish
“Sorry I had to give you the busy
ear. Peaches, but the fact is I paddled
away to the office of Htggtnbottom &
Cos., who wanted to put me wise to
some, er —that is, some new stock!”
"Railroad stock?" she Inquired.
"Well, not exactly Twentieth Cen
tury Limited or Royal Blue Flyers,”
I answered, “but I think some of It
could win from a slow freight if prop
erly coaxed.
“W'atered stock, I suppose!”
laughed Clara J.
“Yes, it was watered all right, but
not fod,” I replied. “There wasn't
much doing In oats until I led the way
to the barn.”
I had Peaches in the air by this
time, but she thought I was talking
the broker dialect, so she stayed on
the roof and watched the scenerv go
by.
Just then I got a flash of Dike Law
rence bearing down In our direction
under a full head of gasoline.
Dike was leading a three-days' Jag
by the hand and talking to It like a
child.
A good old fellow, Dike, but for
years he permitted a distillery to use
hts thirst as a testing station and It
had put the dear boy away to the
convlv.
Dike was a good lawyer when ha
worked at It, rich, unmarried, and the
busiest buyer in the borough.
"H'ar'ye, Mrs. John? Howdy, John?
How do do, little nrnn! Scuze me for
int'ruptlng a family party, but l de
mand ’pology!" bo spluttered.
"What's wrong, Dike?" I inquired.
"Demand 'pology," Dike couttnued,
"Old friend life time threw me down
—lesh have drink! Your little son
growing shplendld boy, Mrs. John!"
"This Is Tacks, nty little brother.
not my son, Mr. Lawrence!" Clara J.
explained; "we haven't any chil
dren,” she a-Med nervously.
As t said before, Dike la the cham
pion bun builder of my acquaintance,
consequently his conversational out
bursts are never considered seriously.
“Shorry make such a shone, Mrs.
John!” old Doctor Benzine rattled
on, “but musbt have ’pology from
lifelong friend. Threw mo dowa
hard —waiter, bring bo’l wine, quart
wine, two quarts wine, whole casg
wine -lesh have drink—musbt have
’pology!”
“What’s gone wrong. Dike? Wb
owes you an apology?" I asked in an
endeavor to calm him,
"You do," ho answered, trying te
look rne In the eye; "wait till I gut
back i’ll shplaln why demand 'pol
ogy,” ami then hiH lamps started b:
follow the room as it went round and
round.
Pr-senUy his gaze rested on Cln/a
,T„ and he continued, "Mrs. Johp
your husband’s gay Ithario- h*t
two dollars thash lasht time today
I'll be able to shay that word. Nev
could shay word like that after shevao
o’clock Mrs. John, you mush Jc4n
rne demand ’pology from thlsh mt,s
Time’s come when friendship sheashss
and we musbt shtand toghzzer, sbo'lM
to sho’ler, Mrs. John, and so nuixb
your little son I mean llf.io brother
for love of heaven please have lltUa
son with you next time so I can sh.iy
what. I want to! Lesh have drink!”
"What did my husband do to of
fend yen, Mr. Lawrence!” Clara 3
asked, encouragingly.
“Threw me down—hard, cold, flat!
Life-long friend threw me down. I
shink I’ll bust out crying!” Dike an
swered, on the verge of tears.
“Where did I throw you down,
Dike?” I asked, smilingly.
“Persheo Shizzy!" he answered,
painfully.
“Where did you say?” I snapped,
perceiving quickly that Dike and hts
souse promised to lead me into the ioa
house witli Clara J
"Jershee Shizzy” Dike repeatsd
doggedly.
"Does your friend rner.n Jersey
City?” Clara J asked, throwing out s
chill that cooled the room.
"Jershee Shizzy, ash what I shod,”
liquid began to flow sluggishly over
the bosom of his immaculate white
shirt and was lost in the region of his
equator, seeing which Dike gave vest
to r yell that brought the waiters c-n,
the hot foot.
“I'm “tabbed! stabbed!" groaned
the startled jag-carpenter, clutching
wildly at his shirt front.
“It’s my clam cocktail," whispered
Tacks to me; ”1 poured It in his wine
glass ’cause they was too much to
bascum sauce in it for mot”
"Brave boy!" I answered. “It was
t ‘ ...dly deed. Come on, Clara J..
'he woods for ours!"
(Copyright, by G. W. Dillingham Co.)-