The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965, September 30, 1909, Image 6

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    JHE WILD GEESEj
g^BY<5tanleij J.We^man.*8!
(Copyright. 1908. by Stanley J. Weyman.j
CHAPTER VI—Continued.
The man and the horse! The col
onel began to understand that some
thing more than wantonness had in
spired Payton’s conduct the previous
night. He had had an interest in nip
ping the inquiry in the bud, and,
learning who the colonel was, had
acted on the instant and with consid
erable presence of mind.
Tlie colonel remained within doors
until live minutes before 3 o'clock.
Then, attending to the directions he
had received, he made his way to a
particular door a little within the
barrack gate.
Had ho glanced up at the windows
he would have seen faces at them;
moreover, a suspicious ear might have
caught a scurrying of feet, mingled
with stifled laughter. But ho did not
look up. He did not seem to expect
to see more than he found when he
entered—a great bare room, with Us
floor strewn with sawdust and Us walls
adorned here and there by a gaunt
trophy of arms. In the middle of the
floor, engaged apparently In weighing
one foil against another, was a stout,
dark man, whose light and nimble step
gave the lie to his weight.
' Certainly there came from a half
opened door at the end of the room a
stealthy sound as of rats taking cover.
But Colonel John did not look thut
way. His whole attention was bent
upon the maltre d'armes, who bowed
low to him. Clicking his heels to
fether and i ending his palms In the
'rench fashion. "Good morning, sare,"
he said, his southern accent unmis
takable. “I make you welcome."
The colonel returned his salute less
elaborately.
"The maltre d'armes, Lemolne?" he
said.
"Yes, sare; that Is me. At your
service.”
"I am a stranger In Tralee, and I
have been recommended to apply to
you. You are, I am told, accustomed
to giving lessons.”
"With the small sword?” the
Frenchman answered, with the same
gesture of the open hands. “It Is my
nrnfnuclnn w
"I am desirous of brushing up my
knowledge—such as It Is.”
"A vare good notion,” the fencing
master replied, his black, beady eyes
twinkling. "Vare good for me. Vare
good also for you. Always ready, Is
the gentleman’s motto, and to make
himself ready his high recreation. But,
doubtless, sare,” with a faint smile,
“you are proficient and X teach you
nothing. You come but to sweat a
little.”
"At one time,” Colonel John replied
with simplicity, "I was fairly profi
cient. Then—this happened. He held
out his right hand. "You see?”
"AhI” the Frenchman said In a low
tone, and he raised his hands. "That
* Is vare ogly. That is vare ogly. Can you
hold with that?” he added, Inspecting
the hand with Interest. He was a dif
ferent man.
"So, so," the colonel replied cheer
fully.
“Not strong, eh? It is not possible.”
"Not very strongly,” the colonel as
sented. His hand, like Bale’s, lacked
two fingers.
Lemoine muttered something under
his breath and looked at the colonel
with a wrinkled brow. "Tut, tut!" ho
said, "and how long are you like that,
sare?”
"Seven years."
"Flty, pity!” Lemoine exclaimed.
Again he looked at his visitor with
perplexed eyes. After which, "Peste!”
lie said suddenly.
The colonel stared.
"It is not right!” the Frenchman
continued frowning. "I—no! Pardon
me, sare, I do not fence with les estro
.ples.
If the Colonel had been listening he
.might, have caught the sound of a
warning cough, proceeding from the
direction of the inner room; but he
* had his back to the half opened door.
“But if,” he objected, "1 am willing to
pay for an hour's practice."
"Another day. sare. Another day, If
you will.”
"But I shall not be here another day.
( have but today. By and by,” ho
continued with a smile, as kindly as it
was humorous, ”t shall begin to think
that you are afraid to pit yourself
against a manchot!”
“Oh, la! la!”
“Do me the favor, then,” Colonel
John retorted. "If you please.”
Against one of the walls were three
chairs arranged in a row. Before each
etood a bootblack, and beside It a pair
of boot hooks; over it, fixed In the wall,
were two or three pegs for the occu
pant’s wig. cravat and cane. The Col
onel. without waiting for a further
answer, took his sent on one of the
chairs, removed his boots, and then
his coat, vest and wig, which he hung
on the pegs abovo hJni.
-inu nun, hit ottiu ftciiijr, tta uc aiuuu
up, "the mask!"
He did not see the change, but as
he rose, the door of the room behind
him became fringed with grinning
faces. Payton, the two youths who hud
leaned front the window of the inn, a
couple of older officers, half a dozen
subalterns, all were there. The ntoru
grave could hardly keep the more hil
arious in order. The stranger who
fought no duels, yet thought that u
lesson or two would make him u
match for a dead-hand like Payton—
was ever such a promising joke con
ceived ?
The Frenchman made no further de
mur. He took his mask, and proffered
a choice of foils to his antagonist,
whose figure, freed from the heavy
coat and vest of the day, seemed more
suple than the Frenchman had ex
pected. "A pity, a pity!" the latter
said to himself. "To have lost, if he
ever was professor, the joy of life."
“Are you ready?" Colonel John
asked.
"At your service, sare," the niaitre
d'armes replied. The two advanced
cat h a foot, they touched swords, then
saluted with that graceful and cour
teous engagement which to an ignor
ant observer is one of the charms of
the foil. As they did so, and steel
grated on steel, the eavesdroppers in
the inner room ventured softly from
ambush—like rats issuing forth.
They were on the broad grin when
they eanto out. Hut it took them less
than a minute to discover that the en
tertainment was not likely to be so ex
travagantly funny as they had hoped.
The Colonel was not. strictly speaking.
H tyro; moreover he had, as he said,
a long reach. He was no match indeed
for licmolne, who might have touched
him thrice had he put forth his
strength. Hut he did nothing absurd.
When he dropped his point, therefore,
et the end of the rally, and turning
to take breath came face to face with
the gallery of onlookers, the best na
turni of these felt rather foolish. Bui
Colonel John seemed to And nothing
surprising in their presence. He salut
ed them courteously with his weupon
"I am afraid I cannot show you much
sport, gentlemen," he said.
One or two muttered something—p
good day. or the like. The rest grlnnec
meaningly. Payton said nothing, but
folding his ai. is with a superior air,
leaned frowning against the wall.
"Parbleu,” said Lemolne as they rest
ed. "It Is a pity. The wrist la excel
lent, sare. But the pointing Anger Is
not—Is not!”
“I do my best," the colonel answered,
with cheerful resignation. "Shall we
engage again?”
“At your pleasure."
The Frenchman's eye no longer twin
kled; his gallantry was on Its mettle.
He was grave and severe, Axing his
gaze on the colonel’s attack, and re
maining blind to the nods and shrugs
of his patrons In the background. Again
he touched the colonel, and, alas,
r again, with an ease he could not mask.
CoUmel John, a little breathed, and
perhaps a little chagrined also, dropped
his point. Some one coughed, and an
other tittered.
"I think he will need another lesson
or two,” Payton remarked, loudly
enough for all to hear.
The man whom he addressed made
an Inaudible answer. The colonel
turne dtoward them.
“And—a new hand," Payton added In
the samp tone.
Even for his henchmen the remark
was almost too much. But the colonel,
strange to say, seemed to And nothing
offensive In It. On the contrary, he
replied to It.
"That was precisely,” he said, "what
I thought when this”—he Indicated his
maimed hand—"happened to me. And
I did my best to procure one.”
"Did you succeed?” Payton retorted
In an Insolent tone.
"To some extent,” the colonel replied,
In the most matter-of-fact manner.
And he transferred the foil to his left
hand.
"(Jive you four to one,” Payton re
joined. "Lemolne hits you twice before
you hit him once.”
Colonel John had anticipated some of
the things that had happened. But he
had not foreseen this. He was quick to
see the use to which he might put it,
and It was only for an Instant that he
hesitated. Then “Four to one?" he re
peated.
"Five, If you like,” Payton sneered.
"If you will wager,” the colonel said
slowly, "If you will wager the gray
mare you wore riding this morning,
sir-”
Payton uttered an angry oath. "What
do you mean?” he said.
"Against 10 guineas,” Colonel John
continued carelessly, bending the foil
against the Aoor and letting It spring
to Its length again, “I will make that
wager."
Payton scowled at him. He was
aware of the other's Interest In the
mare and suspected that he had come
to town to recover her. And caution
would have had him refuse the snare.
But his toadies wero about him, ha had
long ruled the roost, to retreat went
against the grain; while to suppose
that the man had the least chance
against Lemolne was absurd. Yet he
hesitated. "What do you know about
the mare,” he said, coarsely.
“I have seen her. But of course, If
you are afraid to wager her, sir-”
Payton answered to the spur. “Bah!
Afraid?” he cried contemptuously.
“Done with you!”
"That Is settled,” the colonel replied.
”1 am at your service,” he continued,
turning to the maitre d’armes. "I
trust,” Indicating that he was going to
fence with his left hand, “that this will
not embarrass you?”
"No! But It Is Interesting, vare In
teresting,” the Frenchman replied. "I
have encountered les gauchers before,
nnrl—.M
He did not finish the sentence, but,
saluting, he assumed an attitude a lit
tle more wary than usual. The foils
felt one another, and "Oh, va val!” he
muttered. “I understand the droll!"
For half a minute or so the faces of
the onlookers reflected only a mild sur
prise. mingled with curiosity. But the
fencers had not made more than half
a dozen serious passes before this was
changed, before one face grew longer
and another more intent. A man who
wua no fencer, and therefore no judge,
spoke. A fierce oath silenced him. An
other murmured an exclamation under
his breath. Payton’s face became
slowly a dull red. At length "Ha!”
cried one, drawing in his breath. And
he was right. The maltre d'armes but
ton, sliding under the colonel's blade,
hud touched his opponent. At once Le
molne sprang back out of danger, the
two points dropped, the two fencers
stood back to take breath.
For a few seconds the colonel's cha
grin was plain. Then he conquered the
feeling and smiled. “I fear you are too
strong for me," he said.
"Not at all,” the Frenchman made
answer. "Not at all! It was fortune,
sure. I know not what you were with
your right hand, but you are with the
left va re strong, of the first force. It
is certain.”
Payton, an export, had been among
the earliest to discern the colonel's
skill. With a sudden sinking of the
heart he had foreseen the figure he
would cut if Lemolne were worsted; he
had endured a moment of great fear.
But at this success he choked down his
apprehension. One more hit. one more
success on Lemoine's part, and he had
won the wager! But he could no long
er bear himself carelessly. While he
faltered, seeking for a gibe and finding
none, the two contestants hqd crossed
their foils again. Their tense features,
their wary movements, made it clear
that they played for a victory of which
neither was confident.
Apart from the wager, it was clear
that if Lemolne had not met his match,
the captain had; and doubtless many
In the room on whose toes Payton hail
trodden felt secret joy, pleased that the
bully of the regiment was like to meet
with a reverse and a master.
Whatever their thoughts, a quick
rally riveted all eyes on the fencers.
For a moment thrust and parry fol
lowed one another so rapidly that the
untrained gaze could nbt distinguish
them or trace the play. The spectators
held their breath, expecting a hit with
each second. But the rally died away
again, neither of the players had got
through the other's guard, and now
they fell to it more slowly, the colonel,
a little winded, giving ground and Le
molne pressing him.
‘‘Then, no one saw precisely how it
happened, whiiT-whail, Lemoine's
weapon flew from his hand and struck
the wall with a whirr and a jangle.
The fencing master wrung Ills wrist.
"Sacra!” he cried, between his teeth,
unable in the moment of surprise to
control Ills chagrin.
The colonel touched him with his
button for form’s sake, then stepped
rapidly to the wall, picked up the foil
by the blade and courteously returned
it to him. Two or three cried "Bravo!"
but faintly, as barely comprehending
what had happened. The greater part
stood silent in sheer astonishment.
Payton remained dumb with mortifi
cation and disgust.
Lemolne, Indeed, the person more
Immediately concerned, had eyes only
for his opponent, whom he regarded
with a queer mixture of approval and
vexation. "You have been ift Angelo's
school In Paris. sareT" he said. In the
tone of one who stated a fact rathei
than asked a question.
"It Is true," the colonel answered,
smiling.
."And learned that trick from him?"
"I did. It Is of little use except to
a left handed man.”
"Yet In play with one not of the first
force It succeeds twice out of thr.ee
times,” Lemolne answered. "Twice
out of three times, with the right
hand. Ma foil. I remember it well!
I offered the master 20 guineas, mon
sieur, If he would teach me. But be
cause"—he held out his palms pathet
ically—“I was right handed he would
not."
“I am fortunate,” Colonel John an
swered, bowing, "in being able to re
quite your good nature. I shall be
pleased to teach It to you for nothing,
but now, gentlemen," he continued,
giving up his foil to Lemolne and re
moving his mask, “gentlemen, you will
bear me witness I trust, that I have
won the wager?"
Some nodded, some murmured an
affirmative, others turned toward Pay
ton, who nodded sullenly. How will
ingly at that moment would he have
laid the Colonel dead at his feet, and
Lemolne, and the whole crew, friends
and enemies! "Oh, hang you!” he
said. "Take the mare; she’s In the
stable!"
At that a brother officer touched his
arm and drew him aside. The Inter
viewer seemed to be reminding him
of something; and the Colonel, not In
attentive, caught the name “Asgil”
twice repeated. But Payton was too
angry to care for minor consequences.
He shook off his adviser with a rough
hand.
"What do I care?” he answered. “He
must shoe his own cattle!” Then, with
a poor show of hiding his spite under
a cloak of insouciance, he addressed
the Colonel. “The rr.p.re Is yours," he
said. "Much good may she do you.”
And he turned on his heel and went
out of the armory.
CHAPTER VII.
BARGAINING.
It was perhaps because Flavla often
sought the tower beside the waterfall
at sunset, and he had noted the fact,
that Luke AsglH’s steps bore him thith
er on an evening three days after the
colonel's departure for Tralee. Asglll
had remained at Morristown, though
the girl had not hidden her distaste for .
his presence. But to all her remon
strances The McMurrough had replied, j
with his usual churlishness, that the
man was there on business—did she
want to recover her mare, or did she
not? And she had found nothing more
to say. But the most slavish observ
ance on the guest’s part, and some Im
provement in her brother’s conduct—
which she might rightly have attrib
uted to Asglll’s presence—had not melt- ,
ed her.
Be that as It might, Asglll did not
find her at the tower. But he thought ,
that she might Btlll come, and he wait
ed, sitting low, with his back against 1
the- ruined wall, that she might not see
him until It was too late for her to
retreat. By and by he heard footsteps
mounting the path; his face reddened,
and he made as If he would rise. But
the face that rose above the brow was
not Flavla’s, but her brother’s. And
Asglll swore.
The McMurrough understood, grin- |
ned, and threw hlmseR on the ground
beside him. “You’ll be wishing me in
the devil's bowl, I’m thinking," he
said. “Yet, faith, I’m not so sure—if
you’re not a fool. For It’s certain I am
you’ll never touch so much as the sole
of her foot without me.”
"I'm not denying It,” the other an
swered sulkily.
“So It’s mighty little use your wish
ing me away!” The McMurrough con
tinued, stretching himself at his ease.
“You can’t get her without me; nor at
all, at all, but on my terms! It would
be a fine thing for you, no doubt, If you
could sneak round her behind my back!
Don't I know you’d be all for old Sir
Michael’s will then, and I might die in
a gutter, for you! But an egg, and an
egg's fair sharing.”
“Have I said it was any other?" As
glll asked gloomily.
“The old place Is mine, and I’m mind
ed to keep It.” I
"And If any other marries her,” As
glll said quietly, “he will want her j
rights."
"Well, and do you think,” the young
er man answered In his ugliest man- j
ner, “that If it weren’t for that small
fact. Mister Asglll-”
“And the small fact,” Asglll struck ]
In, "that before your grandfather died
I lent you a clear five hundred, and .
I’m to take that, that’s my own al
ready, In quittance of all!"
“Well, and wasn't It that same I'm
saying?” The McMurrough retorted. "If
It weren't for that and the bargain j
we’ve struck, d’ you think that I’d be \
letting my sister and a McMurrough
look at the likes of you? No, not In as
many midsummer days as are between
this and world without end!”
The look Asglll shot at him would
have made a wiser man tremble. But
The McMurrough knew the strength of i
his position.
“And If I were to tell her?” Asglll .
said slowly.
“What?” I
“That we’ve made a bargain about
her."
"It’s the last strand of hope you'd
be breaking, my man,” the younger
man answered briskly. "For you’d lose
my help, and she’d not believe you—
though every priest In Douai backed
your word!"
(Continued Next Week.)
reincarnate.
Or ever the knightly years were gone
With the old world to the grave,
I was a king In Babylon
And you were a Christian slave.
I saw, I took. I cast you by.
I bent and broke your pride.
You loved me well, or I heard them He,
But your longing was denied.
Surely I knew that by and by
You cursed your gods and died.
I
And a myriad suns have set and shone
Since then upon the grave
Decreed by the king In Babylon
To her that had been his slave.
The pride I trampled Is now my scathe,
For it tramples me again.
The old resentment lasts till death,
For you love, yet you refrain.
I break my heart on your hard unfaith,
And I break my heart In vain.
Y'et not for an hour do I wish undone
The deed beyond the grave.
When I was a king In Babylon
And you were a virgin slave.
—W. E. Henley
The loudest smelling auto Is not
necessarily the one that runs over the
most people.
Most of the men who are too bashful
to propose marry widows.
The man who reserves a friend from
whOT to borrow an umbrella has
something In store for a rainy day.
Usually physicians' bulletins are not
signals for help, but notice to the un
dertaker.
There Is many a man who reminds
one of a sheep in wolf's clothing.
The woman who is promised that he
will gratify her smallest wish is left
in doubt.
It is always dangerous for a man
married to a brunet to kiss a perox
ide blond.
STAGE DISCIPLINE.
A Discourse by Horace Wyndhim, SL
James’ Theater, London.
From the Sketch: It may possibly
come as news to those who only wit
ness a theatrical performance from the
auditorium to learn that discipline Is
enforced almost as strictly on the stage
as it Is In a government deparement.
Every big London theater has a code
of "rules and regulations” under which
It Is conducted, and rigid adherence to
this Is Insisted upon from every one
concerned—principal to call boy alike.
Speaking generally, the regulations are
about twenty in number. Some man
agers, however, draw up so lengthy a
list that they find It necessary to em
body It In a small handbook.
Among the rules common to all thea
ters may be mentioned the following:
(1) "The hair of the face must be
shaven If required by the exigencies of
the play represented;” (2) "All engage
ments to be regarded as exclusive, and
no artist shall appear at any other
theater or hall without the consent In
writing of the manager or his repre
setnative;’’ (3) "All artists engaged are
to play any part or parts for which
they may be cast, and to understudy
If required,” and (4) "In the event of
the theater being closed through riot,
fire, public calamity, royal demise,
epidemic or illness of principal, no sal
ary shall be claimed during such clos
ing.” At the foot of the contract is an
Intimation that "any breach of the
above rules and regulations subjects
the person who Infringes to immediate
dismissal at the option of the manage
ment."
As a matter of fact, however, such
option Is only exercised in extreme cases.
The usual method adopted for enforcing
compliance with the theater rules Is a
much milder one. It consists In levy
ing a graduated scale of fines for every
Infringement brought to light. Such
fines are deducted from the offender's
weekly salary, and may be anything
from sixpence to a guinea. A very or
dinary one to impose Is half a crown,
for the breach of discipline It meets
with—that of talking behind the scenes
more often encountered than is any
other. Late attendance at rehearsal (If
exceeding the limit allowed for "varia
tion of watches”) means Incurring a
similar penalty.
One of the gravest offenses of which
an actor or actress may be guilty is
that of addressing the audience from
the stage during the course of a per
formance. In some theaters the only
recognized punishment for this Is in
stant dismissal, a note to this effect
being Inserted In the contract. Inter
polating into the dialogue words or
"business” not previously sanctioned
by the management Is also held to be
particularly heinous.
ah exception, nowever, is usually
made where musical comedy Is con
cerned, for In entertainments of this
mature the practice of "gagging” is
more or less freely adopted. Libret
tists, Indeed, have much reason to be
thankful that this Is the case, since
the success of their work Is often
largely due to the manner in which the
comedians "build up” their parts for
themselves.
The Individual In whom Is vested the
responsibility for maintaining due or
der behind the scenes Is the stage man
ager. Consequently everybody makes
It his business to cultivate pleasant re- j
lations with him from the outset. As
may be Imagined, his position Is a deli
cate one, calling for the display of a
good deal of tact, since In the execu
tion of his office he Is sometimes re
quired to “drop on” a personal friend.
Should he show favoritism discipline la
bound to suffer, with the result that he
himself Is called to account. No one
however seems to know exactly how
this is brought about, for imagination
ipales before the Idea of a stage man
ager reporting himself for neglect of
duty.
A CHESS-PLAYING TOWN.
One of the Requirements of Every In
habitant of Village in Hungary.
There is In Hungary a village prob
ably unique among the world's towns,
In that it not only encourages chess as
a pastime, but Insists that the king of
games shall be played by every man,
woman and child In the place.
It is Just as necessary in this out-of
the-world spot for the Inhabitants to
be proficient chess players as It is for
them to be able to read, write and
cipher. Prizes are given to the school
children for proficiency In chess.
Problems are given to the scholars
that they are expected to take home
and work out In their spare hours In
addition to their other tasks.
Hungary has long been famous for
her chess players. Indeed, this little
village has, as can be well understood,
turned out more than one player who
has been considered fit to rank
with such giants as Lasker, Steinltz or
Tchigorin.
Every Christmas a great tournament
Is held In the village, and the burgo
master gives prizes for the best Ju
venile and adult players.
What Business to Take Home.
Orison Swett Marden In November
Success: It Is a reflection upon your
own business ability that you cannot
make a living during business hours.
Your 111 humor is a confession to your
wife of your weakness and incapacity,
and of your not being master of the
situation, or equal to confronting emer
gencies. Women naturally admire
strength, capacity, efficiency and cour
age In men. They admire a man who
cannot only make a living, but also
make It easily, without fretting, stew
ing or worrying. Your wife will think
less of you If you continually lug home
your business cares.
This does not mean that you should
not keep your wife Informed about your
business. Every man should talk over
his affairs with his wife, and she should
always know the exact condition of his
business. Many a man has come to
grief by keeping his wife in Ignorance
of his straitened circumstances or de
clining business, or of the fact that
he was temporarily pressed for capital
and unable to indulge in certain luxu
ries. A good wife will help a man
amazingly in his business troubles or
struggles to get established If she
knows Just how he is situated and what
Is required of her. Her economy and
her planning may give Just the needed
support: her sympathy may take out
the sting of the pain, and enable him to
bear his trials. This confiding frankly
in a wife Is a very different thing from
everlastingly harping on the disagree
able features of a business or letting
them ruin your attitude toward your
family, making life miserable for those
not to blame.
Good cheer, a feeling of good will
toward one another and toward other
people, and a spirit of helpfulness and
utter unselfishness should always be
present in the home. It should be re
garded as the most sacred spcfr on
earth. The husband should look upon
It as the one place in all the world
where he can get away from business
troubles, and the exactions, grinding
and crowding of life's struggles—a
place to which he can flee from all ln
harmony and discord, and find peace,
and rest, contentment and satisfaction.
It should be a place where he always
longs to go, and from which ne is loath
to part.
' s* .«* >.. : viaAv'r.*-^' r-’^ anrr . ; * ‘.vaH i sc., : we?
As Wilfred McGinnis walked down Wylie
avenue on the way to the office of his
lawyer, many friends and acquaintances
exchanged words and smiles with him,
never dreaming that they were looking
upon him for the last time on earth.
McGinnis was well known and well liked.
His square chin, showing bulldog tenacity,
was relieved by his humorous mouth, and
his stern, deep-set eyes knew an occa
sional twinkle.
“Drawn up that will yet?” he asked as
he entered the office at last.
“WThy in thunder don't you shut that
door, McGinnis?” demanded the lawyer.
“You’re the damnedest man I ever came
across.”
“Aw, shut up yourself, you omadhaum!”
said McGinnis, but he shut the door.
Attorney McSwainson turned his big
weight In his swinging chair, and his
beady eyes laughed from his fat face at
McGinnis. “Oh, but you’re the bright
Joker, McGinnis.’’ he said. “Where do
you expect to die when you go to?”
“Haw, haw, haw,” laughed McGinnis.
” 'Tis the Irish in me. Let me see the
documents, Bill.”
“Hero’s the first,” said McSwainson.
dated January 2: “I will and bequeath
all my scads and real estate to the Asy
lum for Indigent Spinsters. That’s it,
boiled down. And here’s the other one,
the last one, the genuine simon-pure one,
the sane one. You like your little joke,
don’t you?”
“And you like my little joke, too, when
I pay for it, don’t you?” McGinnis rapped
back. And then they laughed again.
“Walt till I tell you something. Bill,”
said McGinnis, composing himself,
“though it wont be news to you—all of it.”
After a pause, he went on: “When I
came to this country I had one sovereign
in my pocket, but I was sovereign in my
own right besides. 'Tis a joke I have.
“I began bad, for I ran into debt for
four weeks’ board. Then I went out and
starved myself until I struck a Job and
started in to save money. It was slow' I
work at first, but I paid my debts and I
;ave<5, and invested my money, and sent
for my brothers and sisters, and when the
right woman came along I got married.
You remember Annie, don’t you, Bill? Ah,
it is the fine woman she was! Then the
baby came; pretty, little Annie, jr., and we
were happy as canary birds before cages
were invented. And then—but you know
how they died, Bill, and how I was left
all to myself and the mercies of a cold
world—which, maybe, Isn’t quite so cold,
anyhow, when you get to know it. And
then there was nothing left for me but !
the saving of money and the spoiling of
my nephews and nieces—especially the
nieces. It’s a fine crowd they are, if I
do say it myself, seeing as how they’re
my own relations, but I hate to see peo- ;
pie too expecting. Not that they’re more
expecting than, maybe, they have a right \
to be, but a fellow hates to think that
there are people who think that his death
would be a windfall to somebody, and that
somebody is willing to look at it that
way. That’s why I got you to draw up
the first will and read it to them.
"Oh, but It was the great joke! They
had the hardest time trying to act nat
ural with me after my unnatural trick,
but the effort they made was creditable,
I will say that. There's nothing mean
about the McGinnises. I got nervous at
last, for fear I would die before I got the
other will made up, and I guess it was
Inside a week when I landed in here again
and had the new will drafted, witnessed
and signed.
"I want you to keep the first will, Bill.
You know what you’ve got to do with it.
I’ll take the other one home, with me and
hide it. I don’t know just what I’ll do j
with it, but I’ll let you know tomorrow.
That’ll be time enough. I guess, for I
hain’t got no intention of dying for a good
many years yet."
"Well, it’s your own business." said Mr.
McSwainson, with a laugh. "Here goes
the one will in my safe, the other in your 1
pocket, and then we'll both go for a
drink.
They went to Mooney’s, took twro fin- j
gers each and parted.
That night McGinnis died suddenly. >
Apoplexy, the doctors 4satd. The next j
night relatives sat up with the dead. The
day following McSwainson, corrow’fully,
and with no heart in the joke in which he
was participating, read the will in which
all the old man’s property, real and per
sonal, was left to the Home for Indigent
Spinsters. The relatives w’ere a little
hurt, it must be confessed, but McSwain
son was forced to admit that they took
the dose like the ladles and gentlemen.
"Sure, it was his own money, anyhow’."
said Michael McGinnis, brother of the
decreased, a day laborer, and improvi
dent, and the other agreed.
McSwainson’s instructions had been to
read the later will the next day. He
wondered how he was going to do It since
he didn’t know’ where It was to be found.
He resolved to stay with the relatives
during the night. He could get his bear- |
ings and might get an idea how best to
conduct his search the next day. He re
solved to consult Will McGinnis, a sturdy
young man, who was already beginning
to make a reputation for himself as a
speedy telegraph operator.
As the evening wore on, therefore, ne
took occasion to converse with Will, and
finally beckoned him out of the room. To
gether they went to the bed room which
McGinnis had occupied and in w’hich he
had died.
Will threw himself on the bed. which
creaked as he did so. The two smoked in
silence.
Presently Will said, sleepily, "It's all
right, old man, fire ahead." And he be
gan absently tapping on the bed poet with
his pencil.
"I'm going to,” said the lawyer. "But
I'm not such an awfully old man."*
"I wasn't talking to you," said Will,
apologetically. "I was talking to the
bed."
What do you mean?" asked McSwain
son.
"Did you hear the bed call 'Will I Will!
Will?' " asked the young man, with a
laugh.
The lawyer looked at him as though he
thought he were mad.
"No; I'm not crasy," said Will. 'Tm
just amused. When I put my head on the
pillow I heard a supernatural telegraph
operator tapping 'Will! Willi Willi' over
I and over again. It kind of startled me at
first, but now I know what It la I’ve
been experimenting while I've been lying
here. Put your ear to the head of the
bed. You hear tapping, don’t you? Well,
that tapping, In the telegraph code,
means ‘Will’ repeated many times. When
I move into the middle of the bed the
tapping ceases. When I move over to the
other side the tapping Is resumed, but
this time the tapping means nothing even
to a telegraph operator.
"Now, the reason for the tapping !»
very simple. On the right side of the
bed the springs under the mattress react
with a certain rough rhythm. In thle
case the rhythm accidentally takes on the
sound of ‘Will’ as a telegrapher hears It.
The sound is communicated to the head
of the bed, and when one hears It It ap
pers to come from there Instead of from
the springs, from which It really springs.
Which is a joke, as unole usedjto say."
"It means more than that, \ I am con
vinced,” said the lawyer Impressively. "It
means that the missing .jwill has been
found." '' *
“What missing will demanded the
young man. j
Then McEwalnson told his story. 'Tm
going to examine that bed before I look
I T %
anywhere else In the house," he con
cluded
“Going to ripe open the mattress?"
queried Will.
“If necessary,” said the lawyer.
But It wasn’t necessary. When the bed
was pulled away from the wall the miss
ing will was discovered stuck Into the
back. It was plain to be seen. It was
equally plain that the old man had In
tended to finish his Job the next day.
“I’m quite convinced that my old friend
took this means of letting us know
where to look.” said the lawyer.
“Pshaw!” said Will. “The old man
didn’t know anything about telegraphy
and couldn’t have learned It In a year of
Sundays. But, Just the same, the crowd
downstairs will likely agree with you.”
And they did.
The Matter of Charities.
Springfield Republican: It is now ap
proaching the season when the charities
of the people are appealed to on every
hand, by those who need and deserve help,
by those who need but do not deserve It,
and by many who neither need nor de
serve. In the old days, which few of ua
now remember, or know about save by
tradition, the dispensation of alms wa»
not very apt to go astray and waste, be
cause the drift of humanity degraded and
vagrant was so small, and the calculated
Industry of the tramp who docs not In
tend to work, but begs and pilfers, and
even at times robs and murders, had not
been developed. That was a time of
simpler civllzation, a time of honorable
poverty, so to call It, when the response
of human fellowship was Justly given to
those who asked it, and the wayfarer who
accepted help and the householder who
gave It felt a cordial touch of common In
terest. But now things have changed- and
while still the farmer’s meal is ready for
the wayfarer, the genus tramp crowds the
cities, and the ne'er-do-wells gravitate
thither and expect to be lifted out of their
own constituted slough by the charttlea
of those who by constant industry have
reached the power to manage their own
lives and help others. These degenerates
count on the thoughtless generosity of
the people at whose doors they call for
food, or for 10 cents toward helping them
to get their fare to another place where
they are going to get a Job, or for dollars
which will enable them to do many things
which they cannot do without dollars It
Is the season when all these leeches
abound.
There are exceptions, but In aU rases,
wherever there Is a bureau of InformatlorT
an organized society which is engaged In
true and honest service both to the publlo
and to the unfortunate Individual-such as
the Union Relief association in this city—
the right thing to do is to send such appli
cants to that society, whose business It la
both to help and to investigate.
Just Wanted a Chanoe.
Atlanta Constitution: “Mister Jedga"
called out the colored witness, after he *
had been on the stand a full hour ’kin
I say one word, auh?“
••Yes,” replied the Judge. “What la ur
’ Hit’s des dls. suh. Ef you’ll desa make
de lawyers set down en keep still two
minutes, en gimme a livin’ chance I’ll
whirl In en tell de truth:” U
New York Times: ' SenatorTpooner re
lates a conversation he heard last sum
mer in a street car in Milwaukee
“Do you have pale beer at home?"
asked a young lady of her companion.
Oh, no, replied the other, "pap always
get* hla bottled.” v v
' wr TILL. 1 TEIL you ^ONlETpC,, BlU ’