KENNEL'
URDER
CASE ^
*hu~ S S.Van Dine ~
Cwru&iy MrUlVz.
-,
W.N U
SERVICE
SYNOPSIS
Philo y'ance, expert In solving
•crime mysteries. Investigates the
supposed suicide of Archer Coe. Dis
trict Attorney Markham and Vance
go to Coe’s house. They find Wrede,
* friend of Coe’s, there; also Signor
Grass!, a guest. The door of the
death chamber Is bolted from the
Inside. They force it. Coe is clothed
In a dreeslng gown, but wears street
shoes. Vance says It Is murder. The
medical examiner finds evidences of
a crime. He says Coe had been dead
for hours when a bullet entered his
head. It Is proved that Coe was fully
dressed when ho was stabbed. They
find a wounded Scotch terrier. Vance
takes the dog to a veterinarian, de
claring the animal should prove an
important connecting link. Gamble
says Brisbane Coe, Archer’s brother,
left for Chicago the previous after
noon, but his dead body is discov
ered In a coat closet in the Coe home.
Vance Interrogates the Chinese cook,
I.>lang, and afterwards finds a bit of
porcelain from a Chinese vase, with
blood on it. Brisbane died from a
stab In the back, as in Archer's case.
f --
CHAPTER V—Continued
—9—
Wrede stared straight ahead. Ills
lips moved, but no sound came from
them.
“Tell us what you know about
this double murder, Mr. Wrede,”
Vance went on with grim relentless
neaa.
A shiver ran over Wrede’s body.
"I know nothing about It,” he re
plied after a painful pause. “Gam
ble told me this morning that Bris
bane was in Chicago.”
“He started for the station yes
terday afternoon, but returned
here last night—to meet his death.”
’’Why—should he return?” stam
mered Wrede.
‘Have you any Ideas on the sub
ject?”
’’I?’ The man’s eyes opened
wide. “Not the slightest idea.”
“What do you know of the con
ditions here at the Coe house yes
terday? I would like as full a de
scription as you can give.”
“I was here talking to Archer
Coe from ten to twelve yesterday
morning—’’
•About ceramics—or Miss Lake?’
Wrede caught Ills breath.
"Both,” he answered weakly.
‘The fact is, Archer and I had a
aomewhat bitter session regarding
iny coming marriage with Miss
Lake. But It was nothing unusual.
He was, as you may know, violent
ly opposed to the marriage. Bris
bane took part In the discussion,
and called Archer some rather
harsh names. . . .”
“And after twelve?"
“I lunched In my apartment.
Then I went to an auction at the
American art galleries. But I had
a bad headache. So I came home
around three, and lay down. I did
not leave my apartment again until
this morning, when Gamble phoned
me." *
“You live next door, do you not?"
“The flrst house to the east,
across the double vacant lot.”
“Who owns the vacant lot?"
“It Is part of the Coe estate.”
"And you remained in your
apartment from three o’clock yes
terday afternoon until this morn
ing?"
“That’s right, I had a beastly
headache. . .
“Did you see Miss Lake yester
day?”
"Yes, In the morning when I
was here. The fact Is, I made an
appointment with her for last night
—at the Country club. But when I
got home yesterday afternoon I
called her up by phone and ex
cused myself. I was In no condi
tion for dancing."
"Mr. Grass! substituted for you,”
said Vance.
Wrede's eyes clouded, and he set
his jaws.
"So she told me tills morning."
"When Gamble phoned you this
morning," Vance aRked, "what was
your mental reaction to the news?"
Wrede frowned.
"That would be dlfllcult to an
alyze. . . . l was not overfoud of
Archer," he admitted; "and I was
not personally distressed by the re
port of his death. But 1 wus ex
tremely puzzled. It was not like
Archer to take his own life; and—
frankly—1 had very gruve doubts.
That ia why I advised Gamble to
get in immediate touch with Mr.
Markham.”
“You acted wisely," Vance oh
served, with a tinge of Murcasoi.
"But if you d*d not believe that
Archer Goe had committed suicide,
there must have Nhmi in your mind
another possibility—to wit; that
of murder. Who, Mr. Wrede. do you
think would have had sufficient mo
tive to Mimmtt the crime?"
Wrede did not answer at once.
He appeared aorely troubled and
ran hia lingers several times
through his hair,
"That la a question I have been
trying to answer all morning," he
replied without looking at Vance.
“One may speculate, of course, but
It would not be fair to voice those
speculations without definite evi
dence of some kind. . .
“Mr. Grass!?"
*T—1 really, Mr. Vance. I'm not
well acquainted with the man. He
was after Coe’s collection of Chi
uese ceramics; but that would hard
ly constitute a motive for murder."
“No-o." Vance smiled frigidly
“What about Miss Lake?"
Wrede almost leaped from his
seat.
“That suggestion is outrageous!"
he cried, glowering at Vance. “How
dare you—?"
"Spare me the drama," Vance cut
in, with a contemptuous smile. “I’m
deuced dltlicult to Impress."
Wrede sat back, with a mumbled
remark which we could not make
out.
"What do you think of Liang, the
cook?” Vance asked next.
The man glanced up with a swift,
shrewd look.
“Liang, eh? That’s quite differ
ent. There’s something secretive
and underhand about that China
man. I’ve never wholly under
stood his being here. He's certain
ly not a cook by profession; and
from my apartment window I’ve
often seen him sitting on the rear
porch writing for hours. My im
pression is he’s a spy of some kind.
And he knows Chinese art. I dis
trusted him from the first.” Wrede
nodded his head sagely. "If you
knew more of what was back of
his presence here, you might know
more of Archer Coe's death. . . .
At least,” he hnstened to add, “that
is my impression."
Vance stilled a mild yawn.
"The oriental temperament Is full
of mystic potentialities," he com
mented. “And my own impression
is that Liang knows something about
what happened here last night. But,
as you suggest, a motive in that
direction Is still lacking. On the
other hand, you yourself had abun
dant motive for doing away with
Archer Coe.
“Archer was admittedly opposed
to your marriage with his niece,”
Vance went on. “And until he died
Miss Lake was limited to a small
allowance. She would have received
her patrimony at Archer’s decease.
Thus, if you had successfully put
Archer out of the way, you would
have at once gained a fairly
wealthy bride—with no obstacles.
Is it not so, Mr. Wrede?"
The man gave a harsh laugh.
“Yes, I suppose so. As you point
out, 1 had ample motive for mur
dering Archer. But, on the other
hand, 1 would have had no reason
whatever for murdering Brisbane."
“Ah, yes—Brisbane. Quite—quite.
That second corpse complicates the
whole matter."
"Where was Brisbane’s body
found, may I ask?"
“In the closet at the end of the
lower hall. ... You didn’t per
! chance, open the coat closet this
morning?”
"No!" Wrede shuddered. “But I
came very near It. Instead, 1 threw
my hat on a clialr In the drawing
room."
He lapsed Into retrospection.
Presently Vance resumed his Inter
rogation.
"By the way, Mr. Wrede, are you
interested in Chinese ceramics?”
“Not particularly. I have a few
pieces, but I’m no expert. However,
I couldn’t help learning something
about the subject during my long
association with Archer."
Vance walked to the table behind
the davenport, and pointed at the
Tao Kuang vase.
"What’s your opinion of tills Ting
yao?"
Wrede rose aud came forward.
“yng yao?" There was a per
plexed look In his eyes. 'That’s not
a Ting yao, is It?"
“I don’t believe It is. But I was
under the Impression that Archer
Coe kept a Ting yao vase of the
same shape on this table."
Wrede stood, his hands behind
him. looking down at the vase. Sud
denly he said:
“By tiad. he did, Mr. Vance! But
this Isn’t the vase." He looked at
Vance questlonlngly. “lias this
vase anything to do with—with — ?’’
"It’s difficult to say," Vunce ro
piled. "It merely struck me as pe
euiiar that Archer Woiiid lone a
vase like this in his collection." 1
“It Is iieculiur.” Wrede turned I
his attention again to the table,
'This vase might have been substl
luted for tlie other."
“It was." wild Vance laconically
"Aha!" Wrt*do. for some reason
1 could not understand, seemed
pleased; and I asked myself if )i*>
were thinking of tirnssl.
Vance glanced at his watch.
"That will be all, Mr. Wrede,
You'd better run along and get some
lunch. But we may want you to
morrow. Will you be at your apart
ment?"
"Yes, all day.” He hesitated.
“May I see Miss Lake before I go?”
"By all means. And you might
break the news to her of Brisbane’s
death.”
Wrede went out, and we could
hear him mounting the stairs.
Markham rose nervously.
"What do you make of the fel
low?" he asked.
"Peculiar character—far from ap
pealin'. I wouldn’t choose him for
a boon companion.”
“It occurred to me," said Mark
ham, "that he might have opened
the hall closet this morning, and,
because of what he saw, told
Gamble to phone me."
"It's possible," Vance nodded.
"The same thought flitted through
my mind. Anyway, it’s safe to con
clude he doesn’t care a great deal
tor Grass!. It struck me he was
jealous of the Italian. But Wrede’s
real passion of hatred is directed
toward the cook. He has sl/.ed up
Liang pretty accurately. . . . It’s
strange that Archer, with his Sino
logical knowledge, didn’t suspect
Liang’s true status."
“Maybe he did," Markham sug
gested, without interest.
Vance looked up quickly and took
his cigarette from his lips.
"My aunt! Maybe he did! . .
There came a pounding of heavy
footsteps on the hall stairs, and the
next moment Heath was standing
iti the door, beuming triumphantly.
He held something in his hand and,
crossing to the table, he threw the
object down for our Inspection.
It was one of the most beautiful
and Interesting Chinese daggers 1
have ever seen. The blade tapered
from a thickness of about half an
Inch at the guard to a stlletto-llke
point, and was partly encrusted
with dried blood. That this dagger
was the murder wenpon was obvi
ous at one glance.
“Good work, Sergeant," said
Vance. "Where did you find It?"
“Under the cushion seat of the
easy chair where we found the dead
guy this morning."
"Oh, I say! lteally? In Archer
Coe’s bedroom?" Vance seemed as
“But This Isn’t the Vase—*
tonished at Heath’s announcement.
"Most amazin’. ...”
Heath watched him a moment and
then looked back at the dagger.
"And not a chance to pick up a
fingerprint,” he complained with
disgust. "A silk handle” He
chewed viciously on his burnt-out
cigar.
"No—no fingerprints,” murmured
Vance without lifting his eyes from
the floor. “But that Isn’t the chief
difficulty. Sergeant. Brisbane Coe
was stabbed hours after Archer Coe
was stabbed. The whole thing Is
mad. , . .”
He continued pacing In a brown
study. Suddenly he drew up short.
"Sergeant! Bring me Brisbane
Coe’s topcout—the black-and-white
tweed one—from the hall closet.”
His voice held a tinge of excite
ment.
Heath left the room and returned
shortly with the garment.
Vance began turning the pockets
inside out. From the left-hand out
side pocket he drew forth two pieces
of line, waxed linen string about
four feet long. He was about to
throw these to one side, when he
suddenly bent forward and Inspect
ed them. One end of each piece of
string was tied securely to a large
bent pin.
Heath was looking on with rapt
fascination.
"And what might that be, Mr.
Vance?” he Hsked.
Vance did not answer, but put
his hand again Into the left-hand
pocket of the topcoat When he
withdrew It he was holding a long
slender piece of steel.
"Ah!” he exclaimed with aatls
fnrtlon.
We all looked down at It wnnder
Ingly It was perhaps the last thing
In the world we exacted to see.
The object which Vance bad t«
ken from the pncxet of Brisbane
t'oe's coat was a darning needle!
CHAPTER VI
Mors Bloodstains.
MVUKHAM looked from the !
needle back to the little pile
of string, and then at Vance.
“Well, what does that menu—If
anything?” he asked.
Vane# slowly picked up the needle
and the two pieces or string and
put them In his own coat pocket.
“It means deviltry, Markham.
And it means that we are dealing
with a shrewd, subtle, and tricky
brain. The technique of this crime
had been thought out to several
decimal points—and then every
thing went wrong. The murderer
was forced to add complications to
his plot to cover himself. And he
has confused the Issue out of all
recognizablllty. ..."
“But who used this string and
needle? And for what purpose?"
Vance looked up gravely.
“If l knew who used them. I’d
have an Important key to the entire
situation. The fact that they were
in Brisbane's topcoat means little.
That is the logical place that any
one would have put them after hav
ing used them. It's always safe,
don’t y’ know, to throw suspicion
on a dead man."
Markham stiffened and his eyes
became hard.
“You believe the same person
killed both Brisbune and Archer?"
Vance nodded. "Undoubtedly.
The technique of both murders was
the same; und the same weapon
was used In both killings.'*
“But,” argued Markham, “the
dagger was found In Archer’s bolt
ed bedroom."
“That’s another Incredible compli
cation." Vance returned. “Really, y'
know, the dagger shouldn't have
been there. It should have been
here In the library,"
"Here?” Markham uttered the
word with astonishment. “But why
In the library? Neither man was
killed here."
“1 wonder. . . .” Vance leaned
over the table, deep In thought. "It
would have been the logical place
. . . und yet neither body was
found here. ..."
“Why was this room the logical
place?” Markham asked sharply.
“Because of this substituted Tao
Kuang vase and the broken piece of
Ting yao porcelain with the blood
on It—” He stopped abruptly and
his eyes drifted Into space. “That
bloodstained Ting yao! . . . Ah!
What happened after that Sung vase
was broken?—what would the stab
ber have done then? Would he have
gone out, taking the blood with him?
. . .No! He wouldn’t have dared
—tt wouldn’t have titled In with his
sinister purpose. He would have
been afraid. He was hiding some
thing, Markham. . . ." Vance looked
about the room. “That’s It: he was
hiding something! . . . Twice he
hid it . . . and then something un
expected happened—something star
tling and upsetting. The corpse
should have been here In the library,
d’ye see; and therefore the dagger
had to be here.
“I have a theory. Markham—a
theory to account for certain contra
dlc’try phases of this case—but I
wouldn’t dare express It—yet. It's
too outlandish. And moreover. It
doesn’t fit two-thirds of the facts.
. . . Rut give me a few minutes.
Let me see If I can verify one im
portant Item In my theory. If I’m
able to find what I’m looking for,
we’ll be a little farther along."
He walked to the mantelpiece and
stood before a large blue-green
vn»c.
"A beautiful example of Tsui se,”
he said, running his Angers over the
glaze. He put his Anger In the
neck. ‘Too small,” he commented,
and moved to another vase—a
bottle-shaped, dark-red specimen—at
the further end of the mantel.
“One of the most perfect examples
of bang yao I’ve ever seen—ox
blood, or sang de boetif, as we call
It.” He Angered the vase lovingly
and held It toward the light.
Vance set the vase back on the
cabinet, and let his eyes run over
the other ceramic specimens In the
room. But he did not linger over
any one of them. He gave them
merely a casual Inspection. He
seemed to be searching for some
particular type of vase, for he would
hesitate here and there, shake his
head as If In rejection, and pass on
to other pieces. At last he com
pleted his rounds and halted. There
was a distinct look of disappoint
ment on his face ns he turned hack
to us.
“I’m afraid my theory Is a mere
broken reed,” he sighed.
He caine back slowly toward the
center of the room where we were
grouped about the davenport and
the circular table. As he reached
the end of the library table, he
halted and looked down at a small
low teakwood stand on which stood
a cornucopia-shaped white vase.
Vance approached the vuse
"That’s dashed Interestin’." he
murmured. “A piece of late Ting
yao—from the Yung Cheng era, I
should say.”
lie picked up the vase and began
Inspecting It.
“A rather thick biscuit, and dec
orated In relief; copied from an an
cient bronze. . . . Angular crackling
In the glaze, which Is brittle and
glossy. ... A very beautiful and
l>erf« ct specimen.'*
As he talked, he moved toward
the window and held the vase to
the light in such h manner tlmt he
could look Inside tt.
"I believe there Is something
here.” he sold Moistening his An
ger on his tongue, he put his hand
deep Into the vase. When he with
drew It there whs » red smear on
the end of his Anger.
“Yes, unite so,** lie said, looking
closely at hi* Anger.
| TO MR CONTI MU Ml )
Recall Origin of “Slono Broke"
The expression "stone broke”
originated from the old custom of
breaking a craftsman a stone bench
when be failed to pay his debtg.
HOW T# ‘in.
SHO
By Bob Nichols
B Shoo tins Editor, Field and Strean mm
EVERT year in the United State#
when the huuting season roll#
around, more than 7,000,000 healthy
boys and robust men take to the
field, gun in hand. Reports of hunt
lng accidents begin drifting in to
the newspapers. Some come back
blinded by a careless load of shot
from a friend's gun. Others come
back with hands and arms and legs
blown off. Some never get back
alive.
The pity of the whole bloody
business is that there was almost
never a hunting accident yet that
wasn’t caused by somebody's need
less, foolish carelessness. The only
plausible excuse for the accident
might be where a hunter faints in
the field and falls on the muxzle of
his gun. All other accidents are in
excusable.
So far as I can remember, I have
never yet met a really good shot
who was careless with his gun,
loaded or unloaded. Every good
shot knows that once or twice dur
ing his life his gun may go off un
expectedly. He’s always ready for
it when it happens. His accidental
ly let-off load plows harmlessly into
the ground, or up Into the air,
where it can hurt no ona
Merely from the practical stand
point, it Is smart to be careful with
your gun. You will be invited on
enjoyable and successful hunting
parties much more often, where the
careless man with a gun never gets
a second invitation. Careless gun
handling is simply bad shooting
manners. You make everybody
near you nervous and uneasy. You
get yourself disliked. Real sports
men have nothing but anger and
contempt for you. He careful and
gentlemanly in your gun handling
and you will have much more pleas
ure hunting, have more good friends
—and, Important point, you may
live longer.
Never keep a shotgun loaded
about the house. Never leave shells
where childish hands can slip them
into the gun. Never point an "emp
ty" gun at anything you do not wish
to KILL.
When loading your gun in the
field, never slip the shells in until
you have looked through the barrel
to see that there is not a bit of
cleaning rag or other obstruction.
Obstruction in the barrel will burst
your gun on firing.
If you should fall in the field,
again open your gun and look
through the barrel. You may have
filled the muzzle with mud, or snow,
either of which will burst the gun
on firing.
Never cross a fence with your
gun cocked, or with the safety off.
Put your gun through the fence
muzzle first and lay it on the ground.
Never stand it up against the fence.
You may Jar it down as you clam
ber over. Hundreds of careless
gunners have crossed fences—and
the Great Divide—at the same .time,
through that act.
When you meet friends or stran
gers in the field and stop to chat and
pass the time of day, break your
gun if it Is a double barrel—let the
other man see that it Is safe. Oth
er types of guns, shove the safety
on, and let the friend or stranger
see you do it. This is only careful
courtesy.
Never get into a car with a load
ed gun. Never load your gun while
still in your car. Never permit any
one else to hnve a loaded shotgun
In the car you are in.
Never shoot heavy loads in an
old gun that was manufactured long
before the modern high-pressure
loads were Invented. To do so may
result in having your hand or face
torn off. Consult your local gun
dealer about what loads your gun
will stand. He should be able to
tell you.
Never shoot at game on a level
through brush that you can’t see
beyond—your partner or nnother
hunter may be there. Think before
you shoot. You have more time
than you Imagine. Never hesitate
to call another gunner down for
carelessness. Call him down hard.
Every real sportsman will applaud
you.
Be careful! You’ll never be a
good shot until you're a CAREFUL
shot.
<0. Western New*ptu«r Union.
■ — ■
Napoleon Was a Failure
as Writer, Record Shows
Eighteenth century documents re
cently brought to light estnbllsh the
I little known fact thnt Napoleon Bon
aparte. before he became a mlll
' tur; conqueror, hud a burning am
bition to become a great writer,
writes .?. P. Bowles In the Golden
Hook Magazine, who says thnt he
| spent seven year* In vain efforts to
write successfully and. Anally, In
chagrin, gave up with the remark:
"I no longer have the |ietty ambi
tion to become an author."
Between the ngea of seventeen
and twenty-four, the documenta dla
close, Napoleon made nine separate
attempts to gain a career na a
writer, but met with nothing but
disappoint moot.
j In one of the two abort stories
there appears the following slgnlA
cant sentence—the last sentence of
the sect nd story ; "To what lengths."
exclaimed Napoleon, "can the mad
dedre for fame carry a tuanT"
CAP,
AND
REASON FOR DISSENSION
Mrs. Woop had died, and dad
wanted to put up some sort of memo
rial to her. A stained-glass window
in the local church being suggested,
dad agreed, and left all arrangements
in the hands of the minister.
At length the window arrived, and
was fitted Into position, and dad, In
an unusually excited frame of mind,
went out to view It
The minister escorted the old chap
Into the church, and. with a flourish.
Indicated the window, which depicted
an angel.
"Bow do you like It?" snld he.
Dad gazed at It thoughtfully.
"No good," he grunted.
“Why, what's your objection?"
“It ain’t a bit like the old woman."
—London Tit-Hits.
TOO MANY "SWEET SOUNDS”
Top Flat Tenant—Say, Miss Night
ingale, you’ll have to stop this sing
ing at all hours of the night or I’ll
complain to the landlord.
The Solid Truth
Malsle, the film star, looked down
In the mouth.
“What’s the matter, honey?" asked
her co-star.
“The director,” murmured Malsle.
“lie told me that I’m getting rather
fat and losing my sex appeal."
The other star shrugged her shoul
ders.
“What did 1 tell you, my dear."
she said. “It’s dieting you want.
You can’t eat your enke and have
’It,’ too.”—London Answers.
Enough It Sufficient
Old I*a Stubblefield—That kid
Ilomer wants me to pay his debts
again.
Old Ma Stubblefield—That boy’s
young and you got to make allow
ances.
Old Pa—I made him a monthly
allowance to start with and I’ve
raised it twice. Now I'm through
makln’ allowances.
Purtuit of Knowledge
“Is your boy Josh learning much
in college?”
“I don’t know,” answered Farmer
C’orntossel. “Judging by some of
Ills favorite magazines, I’m Inclined
to think he has found out a lot of
things he's keepln’ to hlsself."
Burned Kid
“I want to let you in on the ground
floor," said the enthusiastic slicker.
"Nothing doing," replied the In
tended victim. "I lenrned from one
experience that all those ground
floors are full of trapdoors that drop
you down into the cellar.”
Recognition
"Do you think we ought to recog
nize Russia?’’
"I don’t know," answered Senator
Sorghum. “Russians shouldn’t expect
to be mistaken for Santa Claus sim
ply because they wear large whis
kers."
Sure Would
Miss Gusher—How wonderful to
see that volume of water tumbling
down Nlagaru falls.
Guide (bored)—How much more
wonderful it would be to see It all
going uii the other way.
Joint Account
No Imagination There
“Most of the trouble we have Is
imaginary,’ said the philosopher.
“Which proves you never have
fried to eat molasses candy with
store teeth," snapped the other one
-Cincinnati Enquirer.
“What’s a Joint account, pop?"
"It's an account where one |>orson
does the depositing and tlie other
the withdrawing."—Vancouver Prov
ince.
a
I ■ . ■ — . .. ...— —-- " — —
MORNING FROCK
ALL WILL ADMIRE
PATTERN 1748
Mere is a morning frock that wom
en just love on sight—and before
which impressionable males go down
like ninepins. Maybe It Is that femi
nine little frill at the edge of the
yoke that does the trick and maybe
It's the come-hither of those little
puffed sleeves—and again maybe It
Is Just the whole pretty business. As
to the cause we are a bit hazy, but
there Is no doubt about the effect
If you are the kind of woman who
Just must Improve upon a thing, how
ever good—or If you need two new
morning frocks—try making one of
plain material with a contrasting
yoke and belt trim.
Pattern 1748 Is available In sixes
14. 10, 18. 20, 32. 34, 30. 38, 40 and 42.
Size 10 takes 3% yards 3fl-lnch fab
ric. Illustrated step-by-step sewing
Instructions Included.
Send FIFTEEN CENTS (15c) In
coin or stamps (coin preferred) for
this pattern. Write plainly name, ad
dress and style number. BE SURE
TO STATE SIZE.
Address orders to Sewing Circle
Pattern Department, 243 West Sev
enteenth Street, New York City.
HOME HAPPINESS
“Would you marry for wealth?”
"No,” answered Miss Cayenne, "I
couldn't think of being bothered with
a person who Is constantly worried
about his Income tax.”
Blissful Ignorance
Tommy came home from school
the other day and said: "Mother,
we’ve got a poor teacher. Why, she
doesn’t even know a horse."
“Oh," said mother. “What makes
you think that. Tommy?”
“Well, I did a drawing of a horse
and she asked me what It was."—
Ashlngton Collieries Magazine.
SOMETHING OF A NOVELTY
"You seem very patient with Bhop
pers, young man. Don’t mind show
ing goods.”
“I used to canvass from door to
door. It’s a novelty to me to find
people even willing to look at the
stuff.”
Her First
He—Have you decided what we’li
give your old aunt for her ninety
first birthday?
She—No. But, now I come to think
of It, the |>oor old maid has had very
little pleasure nil her life. You might
Just write her nn anonymous love
letter.—Vancouver Province.
