The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965, July 19, 1917, Image 2

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    i I The
1 '
j By BURTON E. STEVENSON
*
Chapter four—continued.
Both Monsieur anil Madame
Brisson grew voluble at, once, for
rarely had it been their fortune to
address so attentive an audience.
But there were few grains of
•wheat among the chaff The two
strangers had arrived, it appeared,
on tha evening of the 22nd, Friday.
They were Americans, they said,
on a walking ttj'ur. Their names?
Brisson did not remember; but
they would he found on the police
registration slip which he had
caused them to fill out at once and
had sent to the prefecture that
very evening. He had noticed on
the slip that they had come from
Marseilles and were on their way
to Nice. Their bags had already
arrived from Marseilles, and, at
their direction, he had had them
brought up from the station.
“Where are the bags now?”
asked Lepine.
“They directed that, they be sent
to Nice,” explained Brisson. “I
dispatched them yesterday morn
ing, as I agreed.”
“You have the receipt?”
“But certainly, sir,” and Bris
son, while his wife held the light,
rummaged in his desk and finally
produced the paper in question.
Lepine placed it in his purse lie-’
side the 100-france note.
“Proceed,” he said. “In what
way did these strangers occupy
themselves during their stay?”
They were absent from morning
till night, it appeared, walking
about the streets, about ihe docks,
visiting the ships in the harbor,
climbing the hills back of the
town, and even going as far as
Cape Ccpet, where the great fort
is—penetrating, in a word, to ev
ery nook and corner which it is
possible for visitors to enter. In
fact, in the two days of their stay,
they had seen more of Toulon than
hail Brisson in the 20 years of his
resilience.
The details of these expeditions
Brisson had learned with tic
greatest difficulty, for his guests
hail talked hut little, had kept to,
themselves, had discouraged hi-;
advances, resented his question
and often pretended that they oh!
not understand—all of which was
in itself suspicious. When t n!'
ing together, they used a language
which Brisson supposed to he Kir.
lish; but lie was not familiar wit!
English, knew only a few word ;
■of it, indeed—“money,” “damn,"
—such words as every one knows.
Their French, also was very had,
■—mtich worse at some times than
at others • * •
Lepine finally stopped this flow
of language, when it became ap
parent- that nothing but chaff re
mained.
“Do any further questions sug
gest themselves?” he asked, look
ing first at Croehard and then at
Pigct. “No? You understand,
my friends,” he added, turning
baek to the inn keeper and his
wife, “that of all this you will say
nothing—not even to each other.
An incautious word, and you may
find yourselves in a most difficult
position. On the other hand, if
you are careful, if you are reticent,
you will not be forgotten.”
“ We understand, sir,” said they
both in a breath, and Brisson
added, with venom in his voice
“They were swine! I rejoice that
they did not get their telegram!’
Lepine jumped as though a pin
had been driven into him.
f “Their telegram? What do yon
mean?” he cried.
“About an hour after they were
gone,” Brisson hastened to ex
plain, “or perhaps two hours—i
do not know—a messenger ap
peered with a telegram addressee
to a grotesque name — Zhones
Sraect—I do not remember—ii
care of the Hotel du Nord. 1 eon
cludeel it was for one' of them
and told the messenger it was toe
late, that the man hael departed -
to Frejus, to Nice—I did not knov
whither. So he took the telcgrau
back again.”
Lepine’s eyes were gleaming a
he glanced at Croehard.
“I am glad that you have men
tioned this detail, M. Brisson," In
said. “1 thank you—and you also
Madame!” and with that, be ::iu
bis companions bade the worth.'
couple adieu.
|f Once in the street, Crochare
j, paused.
I “I will leave you now, M. Le
pine, ’ he said. “You have you
work to do—but you do not ueei
me. Should I have anything fur
«
ther to communicate, you will hear |
from me.”
“And if we wish to find you?”
“For tin' present, I am staying
with my friend on the Quai de
Cronstadt.”
“Very good,” said Lepine.
“Good night,” and in a moment
lie and 1’igot were lost in the dark
ness.
The rain had ceased and a chill
wind had arisen, hut Crochard did
not. seem to feel it, as he walked
slowly toward the quays, his head
bent in thought. An ironical smile
curved his lips, as he picture Le
piiif off upon the scent first to the
prefecture, then to the post office,
lie would follow it well, of course;
he would run it to the end. He
would discover, no doubt, the iden
tity of the two travelers; that
would not ho difficult. Crochard
himself had pointed out the way.
But what then? Even if they
were found to be men high in the
< icrman service, that was of small
importance. It proved nothing.
They were at liberty to visit Tou
lon. if they wished to do so; and,
after all, their arrival at the quay
live minutes before dawn might
have been an accident; they might
have lingered for a last look at La
Liborte without any suspicion of
what was about to occur. Sueh a
oineidenee, if not probable, was,
at least, conceivable; and such, of
course, would be their explana
tion, if an explanation was ever
asked for. There was no way to
disprove it.
As to the yacht on which they
bad embarked—well, that, too;
■any have been an accident — a
belonging to a friend whom
they had come upon unexpectedly
and upon which they had been per
suaded to take a cruise. Suspicions
j circumstances — yes, many of
them; but no proof, lib absolute
proof. And nothing, absolutely
j nothing, to show that the explo
its had been caused by any out
I .due agency';
. Arrive:) at the water front, Cro
| char I walked on until he was OP
S' ;> :site rlje wreck. There he sat
j ! nvn, with his legs overhanging
r'c quay. Two or three search
Id's were still focussed on the
: ■" n, hut the rescue parlies had
j b-e—t withdrawn, and only a few
; coir;.'; • uaiu«*l. He could set'
•' nv that ! ' -;:iidab!c monst- r of a
■hip had been torn and twisted in
to an inextricable and hideous
mass of iron and steel. One tur
"et remained above the water,
blown over on its aide, its great
guns pointing straight at the
zenith ; hut tin- rest was a mere
tangle of metal.
■Mull destruction could have
been wrought only l^v the explo
sion of the magazines; no mine or
torpedo could have done it. And as
he gazed at the mass of wreckage
visible above the water, lie per
ceived a certain resemblance to
photographs lie had seen of the
wreck of the Maine. The Maine's
forward magazine had exploded;
but Prochard knew, as well as M.
Delcasse himself, what had caused
that explosion.
Perhaps history was repeating
itself, as, proverbially, it is sup
posed to have a way of doing. But
Orochard shook his head. If the
catastrophe was not an accident,
then it was the result of some
agency far more subtle than mine
or torpedo. And, also, if it was not
an accident, those two men who
had waited in the shadow of the
doorway hack of him for the deed
to be accomplished, must have bad
an accomplice. They could not de
stroy the ship merely by staring at
her! Somewhere, somewhere, con
cealed but not far distant, that ac
complice must have awaited the
first beam of the rising sun as the
signal to bur his thunderbolt, to
loose his mysterious power!
What was that power? Ilow
hail the tlnug been done? Those,
Prochard felt, were the questions
i to be answered. As to who had
done it, or why it had been done—
j that could wait. But if there ex
bit oil m tlie world a force which.
- directed from a distance, noiseless,
• invisible, impalpable, could de
, stray a battleship us!cop at her
l anchorage, then indeed did it be
• hoove Prance to discover and
guard against it!
1 Ai last,'hi.; head still bent, Pro
chard arose, crossed the quay,
■ opened the door of Number Ten
• and entered.
1 No doubt it would have inter
- ested both him and M. Delcasse tc
know how nearly parallel the]
channels of their thoughts had'
run!
CHAPTER V.
AT THE CAFE DES VOYAGEUK8.
M. Delcasse was scarcely out of
lied, next morning, when Lepine’s
card was brought in to him. He
smiled as lie read on the line
scrawled across it: “My report
awaits Monsieur.’,’
“Show M. Lepine into the
breakfast room,” said the minis-1
ter, “and inform him that I shall
be down at once. Also inquire if
lie has breakfasted. If not, see
that In* is served.”
He hastened on with his toilet,
and, five minutes later, joined Le
pine, whom he found at his favor
ite amusement of standing at a
window and gazing into the street
—an amusement which occupied
every idle moment, sometimes with
the most astonishing results.
Chance plays a Larger part in life
than most people are willing to ad
mit; Lcpine believed in it; went
half way to meet it—and, more
than on£e, had seen drifting past
him along the pavement the face
for which his best men had been
searching vainly.
Lepine, it appeared, had already
breakfasted, and, while the minis
ter ate, told of the interrogation
at the 1 lotel du Nord. He had sent
one of his men to Nice, with the re
ceipts for the bags, and if, as
seemed probable, they were still
uncalled for, they would be ex
amined at once.
“Though, even if they are still
there,” Lepine added, “we shall
probably discover nothing of mo
ment. One does not place anything
of value in a bag and then aban
don it. Hut I have another clue
of the first importance,” and he
produced the 100-frane note.
“Here is the m-'e given to Brisson
l>y one of the : ‘rangers. You per
ceive that it is quite new. I sug
gest that you s -ml the number of
this note to t! • Bank of France,
ascertain whi-i and to whom it
was issued, a- 1 if any other notes
of the series were issued at the
same time."
“ 1 will (’ - so,” said M. Delcasse,
and made e note of the number. “I
agree wit’ you that this is most
important. ’ ’
“One tli ".g more,” went on Le
pine, rep’-'eing the note in his
poeketboc and extracting a slip
of paper: "a small thing, hut of
significan ■. I have here the police
blanks wh eh the two me filled out
upon arriving at the Hotel du
Nord. Their names, you see. are
given as George Arnold and Will
iam Smith, their home as New
York city. United States of Amer
ica. If you will notice the ‘S’ of
the word Smith.' you will see that
it in-modi' in (he German man
ner.”
' That is true; hut it. may mean
nothing. There are many Germans
who are citizens of the United
Stal es. ’
Yes; but the German name is
Schmidt, not Smith. I conclude
that this man is a German, but was
trying to coni cal it.”
‘‘You may he right,” Delcasse
assented, with a trace of impa
tience in his manner; “no doubt
you are right. Is there anything
more?”
“There is one thing,” said I.e
1 pine, coloring a little, “which 1
have kept until the last, because it
seems to upset M. Croc-hard’s
theory.”
“What is that?”
Lepine drew two sheets of yel
low tissue paper from his pocket
book.
Aii tvour arter our men tort trie
Hotel du Nord,” he said, “a tele
gram arrived, addressed to this
William Smith. Here it is,” and
he spread out one of the sheets
on the desk before the minister.
Deleasse bent forward eagerly
and read:
William Smith, Hotel du Nord. Tou
lon, Franco: Our mother requests that
you abandon trip, cancel all arrange
ments, and return at once.
Alfred.
‘‘WellI" and Deleasse looked
up ill his companion.
“Thai would seem to show, sir.”
said Lepine, “that William Smith
was only an ordinary traveler,
| after all. You will see that it was
| filed at Brussels at noon of Sun
i day, the 24th. It was delayed in
transmission, and for some reason
I was not received at Toulon until
I'd o’clock in the evening. Messages
j here ere not delivered on Sunday
j evening eJ'ter 8 o'clock, and this
was held until 7 the next morn
ing. At that hour. William Smith
• was no longer at the hotel.”
“Well?" asked Deleasse a sec
ond time.
“Well?” asked Deleasse a sec
ond time.
“Well,” Lepine continued, “at
10 minutes past 6 on Monday
morning, this message was filed at
the office here,” and he spread out
j the second sheet of tissue.
Again Deleasse bent forward,
and read:
Alfred Smith, Re.itnnte, Brussels: We
continued our trip a« planned. All well.
Next address Nice. William.
“You will see,” Lepine went on,
“that these messages are such as
an ordinary tourist would send
and receive.”
But Deleasse was not listening.
He was reading the message a see
ond time and yet a third, and there
was a wrinkle of perplexity be
tween his brows. At last he looked
up, and the prefect was aston
ished at the expression of his face.
“There is one thing I forgot to
tell you last night, Lepine,” he
said. “I did not myself see its sig
nificance until I had got to bed.
The first telegra'm received from
any foreign power in reference to
the disaster was from the Germar ,
emperor.”
Lepine smiled.
“The German emperor was the
first to get word of it,” he said. “I
examined the other telegrams filed .
Monday morning. At 10 minutes
to 7, the German consul here noti
fied the minister of state at Ber
lin of the explosion. Admiral Bel
lue did not file his message to you
until 40 minutes later. No doubt
he wished to assure himself of the 1
extent of the disaster, in order not
to alarm you needlessly. You
should have received it not later
than 8 o'clock.
“It warpin fact, a few minutes
before that hour. And when I
reached the Elysee palace, I found
the president with a message from
the kaiser in his hand. It struck
me as most peculiar.”
“It was ironic, certainly,”
agreed Lepine, “but, under the
circumstances, easily explained”
“You think, then—”
“I think that Crochard has as
sumed too much; I think that, be
fore we accuse these men, we need
more proof.”
Deleasse pushed hack his chair
and paced for some moments nerv
ously about the room. At last he
sat down again, and rolled and
lighted a eigaret.
"You are right,” he said; “we
need more proof. It is for yon to
find it, if it exists. And at this mo
ment, 1 am interested not so much
in the movements of these men, as
in the cause of the explosion. Even
supposing that they had a hand in
it, how was it accomplished?”
Lepine returned the telegrams
to his pocket.
“1 agree with you,” he said,
“that that is the vital question.
And 1 am unable to answer it.’’
“1 shall institute a board of in
quiry at once,” went on the min
ister; “I have, in fact, already
summoned' the officers who will
compose it. I will arrange for it
to visit the wreck and begin to
take evidence today, as it is im
portant that the evidence be se
cured while the event is still fresh.
1 would suggest that you place
some of your men at the disposi
tion of I he hoard.”
“Very well, sir,” Lepine agreed,
and withdrew.
i omon was awe.KO again, ami
the streets wore thronged as on a
fete day. The first shock of the
disaster had passed, and the in
born cheerfulness of the people
was asserting itself. The excuse
for a holiday was not to be over
looked, and every one who could
take a day, or even an hour of leis
ure, did so, and spent it partly
on the quays staring at the wreck,
partly in the Place de la Liborte
listening to the orators, partly in
the Place d’Amies watching the
men at work draping with black
the Maritime Prefecture,where the
board of inquiry was to sit, and
the church of Saint Louis, where
requiem high mass was to he cele
brated. Finally as much as re
mained of the holiday was spent
at a cafe before a glass of coffe or
aperitif, with the satisfaction of a
sacred duty conscientiously per
formed.
Lepine, as he made his way
through th<> crowd, noticed that
there was no longer any talk of
treachery or treason,—even the
word “sabotage” was ro longer
uttered. Every one agreed that
the affair was another accident,
deplorable indeed, hut unavoida
ble atu! without dishonor, nnd si
not to he taken too deeply to heart.
France could lniild other battle
ships! 'he mercury in the na
tional temperament was asserting
itself. v
For nn hour Lepine walked
about with thoughtful face, listen
ing to the talk, watching the
crowd, .mining a group here and
there, catching chance words from
passers-by. Tic had had only three
hours’ sleep, but be showed no
trace of fatigue. Certainly noth
ing was farther from bis troughts
at this moment than thpj he nee 1
ed rest.
Brotherly Lov*
What Is your reason for saying v-u
• r.. n’t enlist unless you’re sent to t’n
! Seventy-third Infantry?” Questioned the
j ivx uitlng officer.
“Heca’se I want to be near me brother
j that’s in th’ Seventy-fourth,” return**!
* Dennis O’Rourke.
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE
.vHn_ qulen.
Unde Wiggily i.oi/gejis. the nice
nbbit gentleman, was hopping along
11rough t.ie woods one clay, wondering
i he would have an alvt cure with
tike of Wonderland or some of her
!i i'lids, when, all of a suducu, c oming
.o a place where a mil fence lan along
ur.ung the tries, he saw, caught in/a
track of one of the tails by us mgs, a
white butterfly.
The poor butterfly was fluttering its
wings, trying to pull out its legs, but
It had to pull very gently, tor a butter
fly’s legs, you know, is very tender and
easily l>! oken, like a piece of spitler
web.
"Oh, my!" cried kind Unde Wiggily,
when he saw what was the matter.
"You are in trouble, aren't you? I’m
glad I happened to come along.’’
"Why, to sec me in trouble?" asked
the White butterfly.
"No, indeed!" exclaimed the bunny
uncle. "But I want to help you.”
"Well, I wish you would," went on the
fluttering creature. "i've tried and ;
tried again to get my poor leg loose,
but I can't. And I'm on my way—oil,
but I forgot. That part is a secret!”
quickly said the butterfly.
“Well then, don’t tell me," spoke
Uncle Wiggily with a laugh, "for I
might not be very good at keeping
secrets. But I’ll soon have your leg
loose.”
With that he took the email end of
his red, white and blue striped rheuma
tism crutch that Nurse Jane Fuzzy
W’uzzy had gnawed for him out of a
cornstalk and putting the little end of
hts crutch in the crack of the rail
fence, Uncle Wiggily gave a hard push
and soon the butterfly’s leg was loose
and she cculd fly away.
"But first I must thank you. Uncle
Wiggily,” she said. “And as you did
me so great a favor I want to do you
one in return. Not now, perhaps, as I
am in a hurry, but later. So if evgr
you find you want something you can’t
get, just come to these woods and say
a little verse. Then you shall have
your wish.”
"What verse shall I say?" asked
Uncle Wiggily.
“This,” answered the butterfly. Then
she recited.
"When the wind blows in the trees.
Making perfume for the breeze,
Will you grant to me this boon.
That my wish may come true soon?"
“And what then?" asked the bunny.
"Then.” answered the butterfly, “you
must whisper your wish to a green leaf
and—well, we’ll see what happens
pext.”
"Thank you," said Uncle Wiggily,
jtnd then he hopped oi: through the
woods, while the butterfly fluttered
p.way.
Uncle Wiggily had no adventure that
da>, hut when he reached honi to his
hollow stump bungalow he found nis
muskrat lady housekeeper in the
kitchen looking quite sad and blue.
"Well, Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy,”
cried the jolly bunny uncle, "whatever
Is the matter?”
"Oh, ! have broken my nice gold and
diamond dishpan and I can’t do any
more kitchen work until it is mended.
( can t wash the dishes nor get you any
supper."
“Oh. never mind about that." said
Uncle Wiggily. "I’ll take tlie diamond
dishpan down to the 5 and 10 cent store
and have them mend it for you. Where
Is it??"
Nurse Jar.'- gave it to him. The pan
had a big crac k light across the mid
dle. The muskrat lady said it had fal
len to the floor and had broken when
she went to get Jackie Bovn Wow, the
little puppy dog. a slice of bread and
jam.
"I’ll soon have it fixed for cVou," said
Uncle Wiggily. But it was more, easily
said than done. The a and 3 0 cent store
was closed because every one was on a
picnic. and no one else couid mend the
dishpan.
"Never mind. I'll buy Nurse Jane a
new one and say nothing about it,"
said Uncle Wiggily. "i'll surprise her.”
But this, too, was more tacky said
than done. In all Y\ oudiand, where
Uncle Wiggily and the animal folk
lived, there was not another gold and
diamond dishpan to be had. They were
ail sold.
",/h, oi ur! What shall I to?" thought
Uncle Yc iggily. "Nurse Jans will b; so
unhappy!' Then he happened to think
of the white butterfly and what she
had told him. rio, taking the dishpan,
lie went to the wood where he had
helped the fluttering creature and
whispered to a lost' the htt.e verse.
"Well, what is your wish?" asked a
sudden voice.
’I wish Nurse Jane's gold ana dia
mond dishpan to be mended, ” said
Uncle Wiggily.
instantly something while came flat
tering down out of a tree, and the
bunity saw it was the white butterfly.
Ami then, all of a suddem, before he
cou:d count up to Jtj.UOO, the Vvhite but
terfly seemed to fade away and in its
place was a beautiful Vv'lute'Queen,
seated on a golden throne with a dia
mond crown - i her head.
"You shall have your wish. Uncle
Wiggily," sue e;ud. "(.live mo the dish
pan."
"Why—way:" exclaimed the bunny.
“You are—you art—’’
"I am the White Queen from Alice in
Wonderland." vv. •. the answer, "and I
wilt ask you a riddle. When you take
the ctishes out of the pan what re
mains?"
"Nothing." answer::<t the bunny.
"Wrong." has > the While Queen.
"The water does. Now i’ll mend this for
you." And she did. taking some gold
from tier throne and some otaniooda
from her crown.
. Soon Nurse Jane’s pan was as good
us ever and she c.’ui.l wash the dishes
in it.
"Thunk you " sabi Uncle Wiggily.
‘"But how is it you are a quo- n pn-l *
butterfly, too?"
“oh. vc.? Queens lead a sor*. of butter
fly existence.'' "aid the White Queen.
lAit I must go now. for 1 have to find
the tarts for the Queer, of Hearts who
is a'ways r- g here.”
Then, chnnwt’g herself into a white
butterfly again, the Queen flew away
and Click' Wimble hopped <;•■< to his
hollow s-1::n"■ ■ ’ • rgolow, vh re he and
Nurse Jane were scon having a nice
r,upper :■ rd wore very 'happy.
And it. the potato m i.Tcr doesn't go to
the moving pictures art,; step on the
toes of the "eg i'Cet" I'll -r'i >o i next
about Uncle Wiggiif • •'d the lied
Queen.
She War. Literal.
From Tri-Bits
"T grovel here 0- ’. ' you in tr.e duett**
observed the irr.f'ass.er youth, us he
pork onto rite .lmvkur room ;h>s.
"f dent mow ‘vn.it y n n" ' n l V rue
replied c etdiy. j,> K after chill
room niyse.f every irjcrn nr "
Origin of “Cimer."
From the Youth' Companion.
Oner u(K>n a line tile tre rr as we
V ow him. was te-'rod t -‘xp«oer," end a
cer" was n. f odesmau mi.. vjyht
-is of ary ki'Vc ' ',v levs mi -,,.,1
, ..in in er-a'.i ••'.vnft ee; tac t .». he
u nip.lit en gi'-.'s. ■>» the ! re’Ci p- t tt. ana
m ..ngl:iii-'. h.* co -. i - lu o e as ..n
"e.,gruS-/.T’ Serirc- , - o 'gfewf.
In the fiscal > lf>I'.-i-j:thev
British 1 c •. • . h i n -«Uv K,
OOO.OUO k tiers ar-' l-ircd*
weekly for the i." iJ'1' *'[ • 'n
handed them over t.> *- . uuy. cti»
tributed £2.2/9.000 w.c-!y sei'iira
tion aliowaucez to 2, i uu, :0vi J iw;pcic8.
FRECKLES
Now Is the Time to Get Rid of These
t'gly Spots.
There’s no longer the slightest need of
feeling ashamed of your freckles, as the
prescription othine — double strength — Is
guaranteed to remove these homely spots.
Simply get an ounce of othine—double
strength—from your druggist, and apply a
little of It night and morning and you
should soon see that even the worst freckles
have begun to disappear, while the lighter
ones have vanished entirely. It 13 seldom
that more than one ounce is needed ^com
pletely clear the akin and gain a boi^itiful
clear complexion.
Be sure to ask for the double strength
othine, as this lc sold under guarantee of
money back If It falls to remove freckles.—
Adv.
SOME STRANGE INDIAN NAMES
That Red Men's Cognomens Retain Pic
turesqueness Is Shown by Those
Figuring in Recent Land Sale.
That Indian names still possess their
early strength and picturosquenoss is
shown by tlio names that ligured
prominently in the recent sale of In
dian lands in the Standing Rock reser
yation in North and South Dakota.
An inspection of the list, reveals
such names as Kate Good Crow, whose
nearest neighbor is Barney Two Bears
Mary Yellow Fat adjoins Melda Crow*
ghost, while Mrs. Crazy Walking, on
ihe southeast quarter of section 1 S),it.'»
lias probably reached the state in
diented by her name by being in the
same section with Elk Ghost.
Mary Lean Dog rather envies Agatha
Big Shield, her aristocratic name. In
like manner, Jennie Dog Malt and
Mary Shave Head may be all too will
ing to assume on short notice the he
roic name borne by Morris Thunder
shield, heir apparent to Long Step
Thundershield.
Mrs. Did Not Butcher, judging from
her name, is in no condition to supply
the wants for her nearest neighbor,
Mrs. Frosted Red Fish, who lives on a
half section, not far from Helen Diilt
cult.
And on festal days there gather
such notables a.s Francis Many Horses,
Joseph Siioot the Bear, Mrs. Stanton
Grindstone, Mrs. No Two Horns, Plus
Broguth, Good Voice Elk, See the
Bear, Married to Santee, Her Holy
Road, Tiberius Many Wounds, Bills
Shoot First and Shave on One Side.
How It Started.
“Who is that man who just spoke to
you ?”
“I don’t know.”
“But he spoke as though he knew
you.”
“Perhaps he does. I may have met
him somewhere, hut I don’t recall his
name.”
“That’s queer. Men don't usually
speak to other men unless they know
them. Perhaps he’s someone you’re
ashamed to let me know you know.”
“I tell you the man is a stranger to
me. He may he a minister of the gos
pel for all I know.”
“That isn’t very likely. The few
ministers you’ve ever met you could
remember easily enough. It's more
likely tie’s a gambler or a barkeeper.”
“Great Scott, woman!”
“Oh, there’s no use losing your tem
per. I’m just a poor fool of a woman,
not supposed to know anything or
have any sense at all, hut just the
same I’m thoroughly convinced you’re
hiding something from me.”
Kind to Father.
Little miss, three years old, very ob
serving, called on her grandaunt the
other day. “Come again,” said grand
aunt in farewell.
“Father next morning said! “Good
by, Little Miss.”
“Good-b.v. Gome again.” she re
plied in polite tones.
Tough Times on the Farm.
First Cow—It’s going to be an aw
ful summer for us.
Second Cow—Yes, it will probably
tie treason to kick the farm belli.
Half a parasol is better than no um
brella in a shower.
. 11 —.....■— ,
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