Parson Prater's Watchword.
Trouble was brewing in Bear Cove.
It all came, so Granny Haley said,
"long o' that young parson, ez war
too young ter know right from wrong,
But public opinion was divided as
to the cause of the Bear Cove trouble.
The young preacher himself declared
it was simply "the natchril result uv
the effort ter mix sin an' religion,
which everybody knows air no more
give ter mixin' nor ile an' water."
Old Grandad McElroy asseited
that "the corn-shuckin' down ter Si
Larkins'* war the hull cause o' the
disturbmint. Not," he said, "that
corn-shuckin's air not lawful an'good
entertainmints theirse'ves, but when
they be turned inter dancin' parties
and dram-drinkin' hit air time ter
Gc grandad "sided" with the preach
er, who threatened to "unchurch"
the revellers, old and youne while
Granny Haley took sides with the
young folks, who "aimed ter thrash
the parson out the day hedonesech."
So the matter stood, until it sud
denly occurred to one of the offenders
that Parson Lyle had no juiisdiction
over them since he was a Baptist,
when investigation showed that none
but Methodists had been guilty of
violating the church law.
The news was promptly reported to
the young preacher fret tine over the
sins of the Bear Cove brethren, and
he recognized at once that he was
powerless to execute his threat. One
meeting-house did not make them one
church, although the Bear Cove wor
shippers had been a very united and
friendly people. So much so, indeed,
that Parson Lyle had entirely over-,
looked the fact that there were, in'
deed, two denominations composing
He recoenizpd it now, however, as
he sat in his lonely little cabin under
the shadow of the mountain, trying
to discover, if possible, some other
means of "circumventin' the works o'
the evil one." "I might preach 'em a
sarmon," he said, "an' p'int out sech
ez air fitten ter enter the Kingdom.
Hit air a union meetin'-house, an' I
sartinly hev that right."
The Information as to the parson's
intention went the rounds of the
neighborhood, exciting, if possible,
more indignation than the threat of
expulsion had done.
"He air a meddlesome young roos
ter," Granny Haley declared.
To which expression of opinion
Grandad McElroy added, "He air a
game one, anyhow ye air boun' ter
admit that air. He sart in ly air game.''
"Waal," retorted granny, "I didn't
know ez the church war a-needin' uv
"Yaas, it air," said grandad. "A
preacher hev ez much call ter defen'
his principle? =z a cyarpinter an' a
blacksmith hev. Ef he don't do it he
air apt to be plumb overrid, I'm
All of the conversation of which
these remarks were a part was duly
and elaborately reported to the young
preacher, who felt no little gratifica
tion at Grandad McElroy's approval
of his spirit. He determined, there
fore, to proceed freely and boidly in
the course which he felt the situation
The little log church, tucked cosily
under the wing ot the mountain at the
head of the cove was a new venture.
The people had done very well with
out it, some ot them said, the Scratch
out meeting house, five miles distant,
being quite "near enough for all their
needs and purposes. But one pro
gressive spirit among them had
bail of innovation rolling, and it had
rolled on until the new meeting-house,
a marvel of cedar logs and fresh daub
ing, spread itself under the elm and
ash trees like a hen waiting "togather
her brood under her wings."
It was a union meeting-house, open
to any shepherd kind enough to come
and break the Bread of Life to the
hungry flock "without money and
without price." Such a thing as pay
inga minister had not been heard of
at Bear Cove. When the young
preacher pitched his tent under the
shadow of old Bon Air that tow
ers above Bear Cove, he thanked
heaven that here in the fertile strip of
land, where rent was cheap and labor
light! he would be able to minister to
the needs of his own body at the
same time that he fed the hungry
souls of huncanity.
"They-uns air not ez hongry ez I
'lowed they war," he told himself as
he sat for a moment under the with
ered hop vine that rattled about the
cabin door, and meditated on the
punishment he ment to administer to
the offenders in the Lord's vineyard.
He would preach them a sermon
they would not soon forget, for dar
ing to threaten him. He had labored
among them almost two years work
ed for nothing, to receive at last a
threat of a "thrashing." He meant
to settle the account with theia the
very first "big day" when the entire
neighborhood would be out to hear.
He" would risk a thrashing he was
amply able to defend himself.
Defend himself—ah! that was the
trouble. His fight against sinful world
liness had been distorted into a com
mon case of self defense. His own
grievances had multiplied so fast as
to swallow up the sin agaiuet the
Master. He had lost sight of the real
root ot the evil in his regard for the
worthless branches that had sprung
Some such thoughts came to him as
he sat alone with his conscience, but
he put it aside. He could not afford
to play the coward he knew those
people too well to risk his claim to
their respect in any sncb way. He
would fight it out with them. He'
would not depend upon his cloth to
protect him, nor because of it would
he take their insult3. There was
ciine enough "to stir up a good sar
mon," he told himself, "an' hev it
ready 'ginst Christmas Day. three
weeks off an' fallen' on a Wednes
His determination was no secret
the very text of the wonderful ser
mon was known to the Cove people,
and "the opposition" prepared for
the "big day" with as much zeal as
the parson himself showed.
"Hit air unly fair ter tell him what
we-uns air aimin' ter do," old Si
Larkins said. The revel, that had
begun in a corn-shucking and ended in
a drunken dance, had* been at Si's
house, and he had in consequence been
tacitly chosen leader of the defence.
"Naw," they agreed, "it air unly
fair ter Jet the parson know he hev
been op'n an' fair with we uns."
So Pete Larkins, Si's oldest son,
armed with a rifle, rode over to the
cabin under the brow of the moun
tain to inform the preacher that just
so soon as the sermon should be
over he was invited to join the neigh
bors in an entertainment "by the
black-jack tree in the wil' plum thick
et back o' the meet'n'-house."
Pate noted carefully the effect of the
invitation. If he expected to see any
sign of tear or of flinching ne was mis
taken. The plucky little preaoher
stood his ground as bravely as the
bravest. He looked up coolly into
the bloated face of the reckless moun
taineer astride Si's big gray mare.
"I'll be tber', Pete," he said, "fas
or funeril, I'll be ther'. Tell the breth
"Tell the bretherin." The words
had a familiar sound, somehow, avery
pleasant sound. Pete rode off with a
strange, new feeling about his heart
for the lonely little preacher livine all
alone in the cabin under the shadow
of the mountain. He admired him
"He air game," he told himself but
it was not the "gameness" that had
touched him, it was the message:
"Tell the brethren."
"Soun's like it might a-come out o'
the Bible hitself," he said and all the
way home Pete busied his mind in try
ing to place the parson's words.
"War it Paul?" he asked himself,
"or war it Christ, ez said that word?"
He could not decide, his Scriptural
knowledge was so meagre, but long
before he reached home with the mes
sage, Pete had withdrawn from the
fight against Parson Lyle. "He air a
younger man nor me," he said to him
self "an' a weaklier man an' a better,
and I air not aimin to hinder lum
The day before Christmas dawned
clear and cold. As if to emphasize
his independence Si Larkins had caus
ed it to be norated round" that he
was preparing a feast for Christmas
Night, and all the young folks in the
Cove were expected to be on hand and
join in a Christmas dance.
This was the crowning insult and
it quite put to flight any lingering
doubt of the wisdom of his course
that might have found lodgment in
the mind of the little mountain
preacher. He was angry and he added
many a scathing reprimand to the
already long discourse that he had
prepared for Christmas.
The country tor miles around had
heard of the trouble at Bear Cove and
the promised sermon of reproof. The
people would be out in full force, and
Parson Lyle declared he would give
them "the full value fur ther'trouble."
It was noon when old Parson Pra
ter, away over in Sunset Cove, rode
up to the door of his cabin, dismount
ed, and after saluting his wife and
children, began to remove the saddle
from old Bald. He had been absent
for several weeks, "over ter Bledsoe
helpin' uvthe brethrin in a meeting'."
He was tired and glad to get home
and said so he asked at the same
time for "the news'" of the neighbor
"Ye hevn't heera o' the trouble over
ter B'ar Cove, I lectin?" his wife ask
ed just at the moment when the loos
ened girth fell about the horse's feet.
Parson Prater paused, the saddle
half-drawn from the animal's back.
"Be ther' trouble ter B'ar Cove?"
"The hull kentry air alive with it,"
she told him. "Hit air all'count o'
that Metherdia' dancin' party you
heeard about. Hit air been a-brewin'
nigh on ter two months, and now the
ot 'bout ter bile over. Parson
aims ter preach a open sarmon
ter morrer fur a Christmas git', an
they-uns down ther' hev laid out ter
strap him ter a blask-jack tree an'
thrash him ter an inch uv his life when
he air done preachin'."
She paused the old man had slip
ped the saddle back to its place, and
buckled the girth again.
"Wher'be ye goin'ter, Caleb?" she
asked of him.
"About my Master's business," he
told, her and the weary old ambassa
dor for peace mounted his horse and
turned his face toward the cabin in
"That war a suddint call," his wife
declared, as horse and rider disap
peared down the long lane, and she
felt half-vexed that she had not post
poned the telling of the news of the
disturbance until both man and
beast had taken a few moment's rest.
The sun was almost ready to drop
behind the mountain when old Bald
turned into the road leading to Par
son Lyle's cabin. The owner was
gathering chips at the woodpile, but
left his basket and went to meet hie
"Light?" he said, half hoping he
would say no, for he guessed In part
the object of the visit.
"Naw," said the old man, "I 'low
it air not wuth while."
Heglanced down at the young face
shadowed by care, and bearing the
marks of toil and weariness. A good
face withal, bearing witness to the
strong heart it indexed.
"Ye be worried, brother," said the
"Yaas, man air born ter trouble
ez the sparks flies up'ard," was the
The old man leaned forward, and
laid his hand upon the younp preach
"Brother," he said, "1 hev been
young an' air now ole an' I hev lived
bjr one rule, an' it air a good un, a
mighty good rule ter live by." He
paused as a frown darkened the face
of his listener. "Naw," ne went on,
"I ben't a-medhn'!"
He halt turned in his saddle, and,
pointed down the road by which he
had come. "I war born'd ter this
cove," he said, jest this side o' that
rocky rise ye see yanrier. That air a
good road a safe road, barrin' uv the
two rocky places it hev got.
"Whenst 1 war a boy, I useter ride
ter mill, an' do all the yerrands for
we-uns fam'ly. Ther' was alius trou
ble crossin' them rocky places in the
road. Unot the hoss stumbled an'
skinned my leg. Ones he rid me up
aginst one o' them big boulders side
the road, an' slit the meal sack. An'
onct the jolt'n' uv the crittershuk the
cider tug out o' my arms an' bruk it.
They-uns war jest orful, them rocky
places war. I min' now how my dad
dy useter call ter me ez I war start'n'
off in a kind o' quick trot:
'Go slow over the rough places,
Caleb.' An' ef I done it, ther' war
neyer no danger, ef I went slow over
the rough places."
"Hit got ter be a sort o'song ter we
uns. 'Go slow over the rough places,
Caleb.' It seemed ter tit ever'thing,
an' finally we-uns tuK it ez a sort o'
watchwoid ter steer by.
"Ther' never war a hitch or a ben
der, out my ole mammy useter say,
'Go slow over the rough places, Caleb,'
meanin' me or rhe ole man ez war
both nained Caleb. I kin shet my
eyes an' heear her now 'Go slow over
the rough places, Caleb.' Hit war the
last word she ever give me left it ter
me ter live by—a 'watchword' she
"An' when I heeard ez how you-uns
war a-gallopm' over a mighty rough
place in the road. I jest buckled tne
saddle on ter ole Bald, and rid over
to B'ar Cove to give ye my ole mam
The old preacher paused his voice
was serious and impressive as he went
on, "Go slow over the rou^h places,'
brother, ef ye hev a keer far tte skin
uv yer legs, an' the meal-bag. an' the
cider jug, go slow.' An' ef ye hev a
keer fur yer own safety an' the good
o' the worl', go slow, 'go mighty slow
over the rough places.' Take ole
Parson Prater's "watchword along
with you ye'll tin' it a good word an'
a helpful ont, ter live by."
He left him, with the setting sun
striking full into his furrowed young
face, and that other light creeping
close into his heart, smoothing from
it all the furrows of doubt and care
"It air a good word," he said, "an*
it air a safe word. Parson Prater's
watchword air sartinly a safe word."
He went back to finish the filling ot
the chip basket, and when after a
while hestood under the withered hop
vines, he saw the parson's horse sud
denly brought from a brisk canter to
a slow, careful walk.
"Parson Prater hev retched the
rough place," he said, and then he
went in to muse and ponder upon the
new lesson he had learned.
He sat before the fiie until iate,
thinking over the sermon he haa pre
pared for the morrow. "It air pep
pery," he said, "it sartinlv air pep
pery." Busy with his own thoughts
he did not rouse himself, until the
hickory log Mil apart into a mass of
white ashes. '"I be a fool," he said,
bitterly, "a plumbfool. I hev been a
gollopin' over rocks big enough ter
bu'ld a mount'n ez high ez Bon Air
hitse'f. I be a fool, a fooi ter hev
Christmas day in Bear Cove was
fair enough, and cold enough, and but
for the excitement occasioned by the
prospect of the parson's fiery sermon,
would, in all probability, have been
Under the cliffs great, columns of ice
rose like crystal pillars aglow with the
reflected radiance of the sun. On
bluffs fringed with crystals, a crown of
dainty wintergreen daunted its crim
son berries in the very face of winter.
Where the remnants of the last snow
fall lay upon the ground, the snow
birds hopped nimbly about in some
kind of a Christinas revel, known on
ly to themselves.
But Parson Lyle was blind to all
the beauties of creation as he rode
down the lane toward the little log
meeting- house, where bis coming was
anxiously awaited. There was a hush
when he entered. A hush, more of
curiosity, perhaps, than of respect.
Old Si Larkins sat stiff and staring
just in front ot the tall pulpit. His
brows were contracted, and a half
sneer was perceptible UDon his face
when the parson entered. But when
the very young man with the very old,
careworn face arose behind the pulpit,
and began the hymn, the old man's
Where was all the "game" that had
been reported? There was no "fight
in' upstart," but a modest man of
God. Si Larkins thought with self
scorn of the bundle 01 switches hidden
away in the wild plum thicket, that
were to mete out vengeance for that
Sermon? There wasn't any ser
mon only a calm little talk about
life, its duties and its dangers.
•'Go slow!'' Go slow over the
rough places," was the burden of the
discourse that rang a triendly warning
to the hot-hearted people travelling
life's uncertain highway." As he toss
ed the watchword to them, lifted it
like a danger signal before them, the
burden of anger and doubt and sor
row rolled from his own heart, and he
stood before them once more with a
soul above the petty Jworries of life.
They caught his meaning and under
stood, and realized the mad gallop
they were having.
"Go slow over the rough places."
That was all of the wondertul sermon
that was to have been as fire and
sword to them.
He bad feared for his reputation
for how would they know that it re
quired more courage for him to stand
before them, and wave that simple
olive branch than would have been
required to meet them in a hand-to
hand fight. He thought they must
brand him forever as a coward afraid
to stand by his boast. He felt so
sure oi it, indeed, that he would have
stolen out where his horse was hitch
ed and huried home at once, but for
the invitation to the thicket.
Knowing perfectly what the invita
tion meant, and caring but little for
the result, he walked calmly out from
the building, and went over to where
Pete Larkins was talking with a
crowd of men. He stepped into the
midst of them and confronted Pete.
"Brother," he said, "I be here ter
accept uv yer invertation."
Pete reddened the others grinned
and moved away.
'•The ole man gin the word," said
Pete, "ez I was ter fetch yer 'long o'
"Here I be," was the submissive
reply, and Pete led the way to where
the horses were waiting. They mounted
their horses and as Pete, still leading,
turned into the big road toward Si
Larkin's house and away from the
thicket, the preacher checked his horse.
"Brother," he said, "the thicket air
ter the left."
"The old man 'lowed it war toocol'
fur a picnic," he said, "so the enter
tainmint hev been changed to a Christ
mas dinner. An' they-uns air wait'n'
fur you ter come an' ax the blessin'.
Ther' air ter be no dancin', but—look
out ther', parson! Go slow over the
Pete laughed aloud as the preach
er's horse stumbled among the rocks.
Tbanks to Parson Prater's watch
word, the Bear Cove church quarrel
was forever ended.
WILL ALLEN DKOMGOCILF..
Work of the Congress.
From a rerant exchange.
The establishment of rapid commun
ications between the United States
and the Central and South American
States is one of the most important
objects of the International Congress
which opened last week at Washing,
ton. Secretary Blaine in his admira
ble speech recognized this fact when be
expressed his belief that not only
would the two halves of the Continent
be drawn together more closely by
highways of the sea, but also that at
no distant time the railway systems
of the North and South would meet
at the Isthmus and connect by land
routes the political and commercial
centers of all America. The visiting
delegates during their journey in the
United States will be afforded au op
portunity, not only for inspecting
what is already the greatest foreign
market for the produce of their own
countries, but also for witnessing the
extraordinary development, of railway
and transportation facilities, which is
one ot the main causes of National
growth and prosperity. Their delib
erations in the Congiess can hardly
fail to be affected by" their tour of ob
servation of the industrial centers and
railway system of the United States.
While they will have nopowertocom
mit their Governments to any meas
ures of legislation or to any compre
hensive policy, they may unite in a
series of general recommendations
which, if promptly and decisively act
ed upon by the United States Congress,
will promote rapid communications
and commercial exchanges between
North and South. From the judi
cious temper which the delegates have
already shown in the preliminary pro
ceedings, it is reasonable to assume
that they will hospitably entertain
practical projects for bringing all
American countries into constant and
For the promotion of rapid and di
rect communication by sea the most
natural and effective policy that can
be adopted is that of offering iiberal
mail contracts to American steam
ships plying directly between the
ports of the two gieat sections of the
Continent. If this plan be sanctioned
by the All-America Congress, the Uni
ted States Government will be left in
a position to encourage the estab
lishment of new lines which, while re
ceiving material assistance from
North and South in mail subsidies,
similar to those recently granted by
England to the Canadian Pacific
steamers, will inevitably open new
markets for the exchange of products
and manufactures. Side by side
with this development of an Ameri
can commercial marine may be
placed the question of building
an overland railway connecting all
the American States and furnishing
permanent facilities for the establish
ment and aevelopement of continen
tal trade. Such a project is not more
visionary than the plan of building
the. transcontinental roads seemed at
the close of the civil war. The Con
gress can open the way tor this vast
enterprise by discussing the condi
tions under which the right of way
may be secured and railway construc
tion encouraged, and the transporta
tion of freight intransit through in
tervening territories effected without
payment of custrms. These and
many other practical questions con
nected with the building of an inter
continental railway and the opening
of highways in the sea will undoubt
edly receive deliberate consideration
before the work of Congress is com
Dr. Henry M. Scudder relates a case
of Oriental justice that could hardly
be outdone for sharp and subtle dis
criminations. Four men, partners
in business, bought some
That the rats might not destroy the
cotton, they purchased a cat. They
agreed that each of the four should
own a particular leg ot the cat and
each adorned with beads and other
ornaments the leg thus appropirated
to him. The cat, by an accident, in
jured one of its legs. The owner of
that member wound about it a rag
soaked in oil. The cat, going too
near the fire, set the rag on fire, and
being in great pain, rushed in among
the cotton bales where she was accus
tomed to hunt rats. The cotton there
by took fire and was burned. It was
a total loss, The three other part
ners brought an actioh to recover the
value of the cotton against the fourth
partner who owned tne particular leg
of the cat. Thn judge examined the
case and decided thus: The leg that
had the oil-rae on it was hurt the cat
could not use that leg—in fact, it held
up that leg and ran with the other
three legs. The three unhurt legs
therefore carried the fire to the cot
ton, and are alone culpable. The in
jured leg is not to be blamed. The
three partners who owned the three
legs with which the cat ran to the
cotton will pay the whole value of the
bales to the partner who was the pro
prietor of the injured leg."
Alcoholism, Crime, and Insanity.
The time must soon come when the
question of the proper method ot
dealing with the alcohol question will
become one for statesmen, rather
than, as now, for fanitics and politi
cians to consider. The tacts and
statistics recently brought out at the
Congress of Alconolism in Paris illus
trates this very well. One of the top
ics for discussion was the relation of
alcoholism to crime. Every_ one
knows that excessive alcholic indul
gence leads to crime, but the attempt
was made to show a direct relation
between the two.
The following tables were given- In
France the average amount of alcohol
consumed per capita in—
1873-77 2.72 liters.
1878 82 3.53
The increaseof crime was from 172 -,
000 to 195,000. The increase of in
sanity from 37,000 to 52,000, In
Belguim the figures were:
1851 138 lit. beer, 5.87 alc'l, 2.00 wine.
1871 150 7.00 3.55
1S81 170 9.75 3.72
There was during this period al
most a doubling in crimes, suicide,
In Italy a similar increase of alco
holism. crime, and insanity was
In Norway, since 1S44-, the amount
of alcohol consumed has gradually
been reduced from ten liters per inhab
itant to four liters (in 1876), with
corresponding decrease of crime.
The above figures are certainly verv
striking, and it is particularly instruct
ive to learn that the decrease of crime
and alcoholism in Norway has been
due, not to prohibition, but to lessen
ing the number of licenses, increasing
the tax on spirits, and the temporary
depression in business.
It will not do, however, to trace all
the increase of crime and insanity to
alcohol. In Bern, for example, where
there are only 4 saloons to 1,000 in
habitants, crimes were more numer
ous than in Zurich, where the ratio is
12 to 1,000. Professor Vauderoy, of
Liege, asserts that the increase of the
tax on spirits in Belgium has had but
a slight result and Dr. Icovesco. of
Roumania, asserted that in a district
in his country where a large number
of saloons were closed, alcoholism
continued to '"ncrease.
Such exceptions must be borne in
mind, but on the whole it seems to be
quite certain that high tax or license,
and a reduction it the number of
saloons and total amount of alcohol
consumed, is followed by adiminution
The statistics of some of our own
cities carry out this view.—Medical
Water Supply For SaiiFrancisco.
From the West Shore.
That was a pretty big proposition
made to the supervisors of San Fran
cisco by Hotaling and others, who of
fered to put in "a water supply of
30,000,000 gallons daily for $15,000
000. The bringing of the waters of
Lake Tahoe, situated amid the sum
mit peaks of the Serra Nevada, in
pipes to SanFrancisno is by no means
a new idea, and a survey and estimate
were made some time ago by Von
Schmidt, whicti showed that the
practicability of tne scheme depend
ed entirely upon securing enough
money to carry it out. The cost of
buying and laying 218 miles of pipe
would be $10,000,000, and the re
mainder would be required for stor
age reservoirs, street maius, hydrants,
etc. A survey of the lake shows that
it would requite a draft ot 137,000.
000 gallons a day for an entire vear
to lower its surface one foot, hence
the drawing of the quantity needed
would have no effect upon it whatever.
Employment would be given to 5,000
men for nearly three years. When
Portland wanted to spend $1,500,
000 to secure good water the people
thought it was a pretty big proposi
tion, but here comes San Francisco
with one ten times as great and with
a prospect of soon securing it.
The Northwestern Coast.
Again has attention been called to
the defenseless condition of the north
west by two of the most able generals
in the United States army, in an
article on the subject in the Journal
of the Military Service Institution for
September, General Gibbon reviews
the various points of defense on Puget
sound, and shows that with that body
of water unprotected the whole Paci
fic coast is jeopardy. General
Miles, also, has made a special tour
of inspection and has incorporated
his ideas in his official report to the
department. Both of these gentlemen
agree that millions ol dollars of prop
erty in the Columbia river and Puget
sound regions lie wholly at the mercy
ot any power possessing a first-class
war vessel. Our country can not af
ford to let such a state of affairs con
tinue. Proper defenses should be es
tablished on the sound and at the
mouth of the Columbia, and the pro
posed naval station and ship yard
should at once be founded.—West
Is It Tasoott?
A man waa captured by the police at
Philadelphia en the 26 inst., who bears a
striking resemblance to the much sought
Tascott. His discription, compared with
the Taacott, ia almost exact. His upper
teeth are filled with gold, has blue eyes
rosy cheeks and rather good looking
He is apparently about 23 years o! age.
How autumn summer puts to rout
And chilly winds to blow begin
The ice cream joke is going out,
The stove pipe joke is coming in.
He is Catching on to American
Ways at Last.
"Heilo! Mr. Dunder!" saluted Sergt.
Bend all as that individual entered
the Central station with a broad,
satisfied smile on his countenance.
Hello! Sergeant. Vhas eafrythings
all right mit you!"
"I guess so. You look happy."
"Sergeant, I vhas shust luse sweet
oil. No more troubles
for me. I vhas
catching on to do shust like Amer
"I am glad of that. You used to
be terribly green."
"So I vhas. Three months ago I
doan know Some beans in a bag.
Ha! ba! Der cows come along und
take me for some grass. If it rains I
shtandt right out doors aud get wet.
Ha! ha! It makes me laugh when I
see how green I vhas!"
"Anything happened lately?" queri
ed the sergeant in a. careless way.
"Vhell, not mooch. Some fellers
try to beat me, but dey doan' make
oudt. I vhas too sharp for'em. One
feller comes along mit six pairs of
sheep shears in a bundle. He doan'
want to sell dose shears, but he likes
to borrow three dollars for one day
und leaf 'em for security. If he doan'
come pack in one day dose shears
"He doan' come pack. Maype he
break his leg or something, but dot
vhas nothing to me. I keep dose
shears. If somepody beats me, ser
geant, he shall haf to get oop werry
early in der morning."
"1 presume so. Have you the
"I haf. I beliefyou like tosee 'em."
"They are worth two shillings a
pair," said the sergeant, after an in
spection. You are out of pocket
fourteen shillings, and what do you
expect to do with sheep-shears?"
"Heatens! I doan' think of dot!"
gasped Mr. Dunder as he grew white
in the face.
"Vhell, I get my life insured. I
doan' belief I vhas sheated by dot.
A teller comes along und says vhas|I
Carl Dunder? I vhas. Vhell, der Presi
dent of der United States says he likes
me to call on you und insure your life,
bis vhas a new company und a new
idea. I let you in by der ground floor.
I like your name to influence odder
'How vhas dot new idea?'
"You pay only two dollars eafery
twenty years, and if you die your wife
gets $75,000. It vhas der biggest
thing out. Shildren cry for it. Wan
derbilt, Shay Gould, Russell Sage und
all der big fellows vhas into it." How
oldt you vhas—who vas your grand
mother—how many teeth have you
lost oudt—vhas youeafer bit by some
dogs—did you eafer own a white horse
—how often you fall down stairs—do
you ride on some bicycles, und dis
vhas der truth, der whole truth, und
nothing but der truth."
"And he wanted the $2 in advance?"
queried the sergeant.
"Of course. Dot vhas to pay for
"Well, you are beaten again, Mr.
Dunder, Insurance men don't do
business that way. Good day!"
"How you mean?"
"You had better go home. Have
you got a tub in your house?"
"Any bran at thelbarn?"
"Well, make the tub about half
full of mash and then put your head
to soak for about forty-eight hours.
When tnrough buy some No. 4 sand
paper and polish it down to the bone."
"Sergeant, vhas I some greenhorn?"
"Vhill I eafer learn something?"
"Then good-bye! I shan't try no
more. It was a-queer country, und
nothing vhas der same two times
alike. Vhen my body vhas brought
in here doan' make fun of it. Shust
use it shently und say dot I did- so
well ash I could."—Free Press.
VOT EES ZE ZGORE?
The Puzzling Experienoe of a For
eigner in Boston Town.
A certain foreign musician who has
iust located in Boston had an exper
ience Saturday afternoon which- puz
zled him very much. In fact he is not
yet entirely clear in his mind what it
all means. He tells the story him
"I come troo Hamilton blace from
ze Moosic Hahl," he says "it vos
five-und-von-haluf o'clock. I am in a
beeg hurry to be by my hotel. First
I pays troo a beeg crowd in ze Hamil
ton blace I tink zey areeenterestedin
ze zymphony consairts. By and by
a boy come rush out from a^ shop in
ze Hamilton blaze!
"Meester! meester!'' he saf, vair
moche excited, 'vot ees ze zgore?'
"Vot you say?" I ask him 'vot
zgore you meant'
'Vy, ze zgore!' he say 'don't you
look at ze board?'
'Vot board is dot?' I asked. But
ze boy look vair moche surpriseid, und
say nodding so 1 valk along. In von
minoote I come near to ze corner of
ze Dremont street. Und zere, as I
valk kvick along out of ze Hamilton
blace, a dzhentleman toche his hat
and he say:
'Axcoose me, sair, but vot is ze
'Dot ees vot I like to know,' I
say 'vot ees ze zgore you all dalk
"But ze man he schmile a leetle,
und he hurry into ze Hamilton blace.
I come down Voshington street, to eo
by my hotel. Zaire I see a beeg crowd
in ze shtreet mit moche excitement
und zhouting, So I ask a dzhentle
man who shtand zare:
'Bardon me, zair, but vot ees ze
'''Zay are looking at ze zgore,' he
"Zaire vos ze zgore again! and he
tell me nodding more. Now, will you
dell me, bleaae, vot ees ze zgore?"—
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