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By CHARLES MORRIS BUTLER.
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Copyright 1905, by Charles Morris Butler.
CHAPTER XVII.
The First Night in the Convict City.
John Rogers and Richard Golden
led the way toward the wtell-lit build
ing in the center of the city.
“What relation are you to Golden?’’
asked Wilson of Lang.
“No relation,” answered Lang.
“How is it you appear to have power
to influence Golden for good? I feel
that Golden is a better man now than
before he i^et you.”
“I saved his life,” was Lang’s simple
answer.
“Why did you interfere in my be
half?” was the grateful question of
Wilson.
“My sense of justice. Could I stand
idly by and see a human being torn
to pieces by dogs, when I might save
him?”
“What do you think of your chances I
now? You understand in what danger
you have placed yourself by aiding
me?”
“Oh, my chances are all right. Gol
den has an object in view in keeping
me alive—and I mean to keep you
alive! Now that I have seen your
face, I have an idea that you and I
can pull pretty well together. How i
many men, placed in your position,
wrou'ld have refused aid as you did,
just because your willing friend would
become involved? That showed me
that you were worth the risk I took.”
Wilson gazed on Lang in amaze
ment. “You are the queerest man I
ever met. It is hard to believe that
you are a scoundrel—yet I presume
you are, or you would not be here!”
“So? Well, I robbed Jim Denver,
the Chicago detective of ten thousand
dollars!” said Lang, as if in excuse
for being in the convict city.
“You damned scoundrel!” said Wil
son, and he threw himself upon Lang
as if to annihilate him. Lang was
taken by surprise at the onslaught,
but was quicker than Wilson, who
had scarce recovered from the fatigue
of his chase.
“So you love Denver?” said Lang in
a low tone, as he deftly pinioned the
other's arms to his side. “You love
him enough to kill the man who has
done him a wrong! Suppose I tell
Golden that Denver is a friend of
yours?” Wilson and Lang had dropped j
and spotless linen. Upon the plat
form were four ether seats. Upon
one sat Pearl Huntington, her face
bathed in tears; and Louis Lang
thought that he had never looked upon
a more lovely and pitiable sight. Upon
another, with a gavel in his hands,
and a small table with a marble top
before him. sat the crier of the city.
The two other chairs were empty.
Schiller bowed to Golden, coldly,
but showed no surprise in seeing him,
and nodded also at Rogers, motion
ing them to occupy the two seats upon
the platform.
At a motion from Schiller, the crier
struck the stone with his gavel and
commanded silence.
“Ladies and gentlemen of Paradise,”
the crier said, “we are about to ad
minister the oath to these men and
women, and that you may judge of
their merits intelligently, I shall give
you a brief history of each, after
which, if there are no objections reg
istered, the king will read the oath.”
Then he introduced each candidate,
giving an account of their many sup
posed virtues and vices.
Lang being unknown to the crier,
Golden was then requested to give a
short biography of our hero. This
was done in quite a dramatic man
ner. He ended up his little intro
ductory speech with words something
like this:
“In a hand to hand fight, the pretti
est of its kind I ever witnessed, he
killed Long Rope, the Indian chief,
the head of the band who attacked
our train! Three days ago he saved
my life from the hand of Revolver
Rob, who wrould have assassinated me
but for his interposition. He is a
white man; a true man; he is worthy
to be one of us!”
“The candidates will now stand be
fore me,” said Schiller, rising, “while
tha oath of allegiance is administered.
I—repeat your name after me-”
“I. Louis Lang,” said our hero, “re
nounce allegiance to the President of
the United States, the State of Illi
nois, or any other state wherein I
may have resided, and declare my al
legiance to the king of Paradise, and
intention of obeying all orders and
laws originating from him! That I
will do all in my power to make the
others do the same thing. That I will
Threw himself upon Lang as if to annihilate him.
about twenty feet behind Golden and
Rogers, and as the scuffle had been a
noiseless one, no one had noticed .it.
Wilson hung his head. “I couldn’t
help it. Lang. Your admission was so
sudden. Denver has been a friend
of mine—(doggedly) he is now, and
when I heard you say you had robbed
him, I could not restrain myself.”
“What am I to think of you?” asked
Lang. “Are you a spy?”
“Hush!” said Wilson in alarm.
“Not so loud, for God’s sake! If the
people thought that my life wouldn’t
be worth a picayune!”
“Never mind.” soothingly returned
Lang, who guessed at the truth, “I
have my suspicions. After we have
settled our present difficulties, I may
see you later. By the way, do you
recognize this?” squeezing the man’s
hand in a fashion peculiar to Jim
Denver.
Wilson was puzzled for a moment.
He would have replied, but the party
now had arrived in front of the As
sembly Hall.
“The king is here,” said Golden to
Lang. “You will be requested to take
the oath of allegiance!”
It was not strange that the quar
tette had met no one in their journey
to the hall. This was a gala night in
Paradise on account of the arrival of
stores and the fact that the girls
brought into the city were to be auc
tioned off (or rather raffled off). All
persons able were assembled in the
hall.
Quite a commotion was aroused at
the sight of the four, and for several,
minutes Golden’s name was on every
body’s tongue. There was handshak
ing and general greeting
The hands of a clock on the front
of the building pointed to eight; and,
the striking of a gong on the outside
notified the people that the opening
ceremonies were about to begin. At
this juncture the usher led the way
into the room, the formation of which
was a revelation to Lang. The in
terior, instead of being in the shape
ct a hall or theater, was finished in
a circle, circus-like, with an enclosed
ring and raised seats from which in
any part of the house the spectators
could command a clear view of any
thing transpiring in the pit. It was
undoubtedly modeled after the Coli
seum of Rome.
John Rogers walked with Lang and
Golden with Wilson down the incline
and into the ring.
The renowned Dr. Schiller sat upon
the raised platform. There was noth
ing about him to denote that he was
king. He was dressed as the ma
jority, in plain black evening dress
<
I not see a citizen wronged if in my I
power to prevent it; and that I will
share and share alike with all that I
possess or may possess. That if I
fail in any essential degree, or prove
a traitor, the law, through its head, the
king, may extract from me whatever
punishment it will, even to the taking
of my life. These I do solemnly swear
and agree to before these, the citizens
of Paradise!”
This was the oath as repeated by
all. Then the king pronounced each
and all members of the colony, ending
up with:
“Let me impress upon you the sol
emnity of the oath you have just
taken. You are no longer citizens of
the United States, but belong body
and soul to Paradise! You have ex
pressed your assent to abide by its
laws; this is clear to you. You will
be expected to work, to do your share
in supporting the country and increas
ing its wealth. You cannot leave the
city without a written permit from
me, the king. If you prove yourselves
traitors, death is the penalty! Death
is also the penalty for other misdeeds,
but here you have one chance of es
cape; but to be a traitor is death in
stanter. Now that I have, I hope,
made myself plain, I warn you, study
the law, that your days may be long
and happy ones!"
After delivering his speech Schiller
sat down, while several ushers sup
plied seats for the several groups and
slotted to them places to sleep. Thus
far the king had seen fit not to notice
Wilson to the extent of speaking to
him, presumably weighing well his
words before compromising himself.
During the lull he sat glaring at Wil
son like a savage beast, seemingly
getting more angry every minute. Wil
son calmly returned the glance, smil
ing frequently, which seemed to mad
den the king more and more.
“What are you doing here?” the
king finally asked, in a voice showing
suppressed excitement. The assem
blage was on the qui vive.
Wilson did not flinch nof tremble,
but like the brave man he was, with
slow step approached the platform
which represented the throne. Lang
approached also. Before Wilson made
answer, Golden spoke up. “He is
here by my authority,” he said, coolly,
realizing that the crisis was at hand.
Then Schiller turned to Golden.
Being in a measure prepared for Gol
den’s championship, he was not sur
prised. “Why do you bring him here?”
be asked.
“For no other reason than that I
desire to see fair play accorded him!”
was the quiet reply. %
"You know then that he has been
condemned to death?” was the fierce
question.
“I do," replied Golden rising.
“And yet you dare to bring him
here?”
“Certainly! I made the laws by
which this colony is governed,” proud
ly, “and I say that there is no law
which gives even the king right to un
justly condemn a human being to
death without cause!” There was a
suppressed murmur of adihiration
from the crowd.
“The king is supreme!” said Schil
ler for a moment off his guard at the
seeming audacity of Golden.
“Most powerful czar!” said Golden,
bowing in mock honor to Schiller
while a smile of scorn played round
his face. The king saw his mistake
and flushed scarlet.
“And so it has come to pass that
the people of Paradise have granted
to you the power of life and death—
without question? I won’t believe it!
I still maintain that the king is not
the law, simply the instrument—and
I appeal to the people of Paradise!
No one has the power to condemn an
other to death but in open assembly!”
The vast assemblage seemed to rise
to their feet as if of one body. Their
cries were deafening. “No! he has
not this power!”
“I thank you!” said Golden, flushed
with victory. “I knew that such could
not be the case. Without hesitation
then, I place Wilson in your keeping!
Condemned last night to death for
daring to restrain the king from com
mitting a crime against humanity, he
has successfully evaded capture!
Hunted by the bloodhounds who guard
your gates, by the aid of Louis Lang
(whom you have granted equal suf
frage with yourselves) he -has killed
his savage pursuers, and I maintain
that he deserves freedom at your
hands!”
“Yes! yes! So be it!” was the cry.
Schiller arose. He saw his power
slipping from him. Crafty to a high
degree he did not attempt to stem the
tide by retorting harshly, but bowing
in mock humiliation, fearful of en
countering further obstacles and hu
miliation, he said. “Ye people of Para
dise! I bow to your decision! It is
just; I was a little hasty; I forgive
Wilson the indignity he has heaped
upon his king!”
The words were spoken humbly, but
Lang and Wilson were not deceived.
They knew that Schiller would never
rest until he had wiped out the bitter
sting of defeat.
(To be continued.)
CHANCE FOR A GUESS.
Dorothy’s Directions Strong Where
Mother’s Fell Down Worst.
Twelve-year-old Dorothy is already
a cook of no mean proficiency. Satur
day morning frequently finds her in
the kitchen, being initiated into the
making of some simple dish.
"Oh, put in a moderately generous
pinch of salt,” her mother will reply
to her anxious inquiry. Or her grand
mother will give a professional glance
at the stew pan and say, “Well, if I
were making it I think I'd probably
put in quite a little more butter.”
Such remarks, coming easily from
the tongues of artists who have only
to look at a bit of cookery in process
of making to know exactly what it
needs, are exasperating to a youthful
cook, especially one who inherits from
"the other side” a predilection for sci
entific accuracy of statement.
Recently Dorothy, returning from a
visit, excited the interest even of
those past masters, her mother and
grandmother, by making a wonderful
new salad dressing. The two ladies
shortly afterward tried to make the
dressing, under Dorothy’s instruction.
"Well,” said Dorothy, with unnat
ural deliberation, “if I were making
that dressing I shouldn’t be surprised
if most likely I'd put in a moderately
generous heaping tip-end-of-a-medium
sized-tablespoonful! ”—Y outh’s Com
panion.
WORK OF FLYWHEEL EXPERT.
Only One Man Engaged in This Form
of Insurance.
Only one company issues fly wheel
insurance, because only one man can
write it. He is monarch of all his in
spectors survey: his right there is
none to dispute. Two years ago he
was a professor in a small engineer
ing college with some theories and
figures of his own about flywheels.
His success is largely due to his
own formula, for flywheel insurance
is almost pure mathematics. When a
wheel is revolved at a high enough
speed the centrifugal force exceeds
the centripetal and the wheel flies
apart. Solid cast iron explodes when
the speed at the rim is, roughly, three
miles a minute. A thick rim explodes
just as easily as a thin one of the
same material. Wood explodes at a
greater speed, jointed iron at a less.
The underwriter allows a rim speed
of a mile a minute, one-third the ex
plosion rate, as a safe limit for solid
iron wheels. This permits a two foot
pulley wheel sixteen revolutions a sec
ond, while it keeps a sixteen foot fly
wheel down to two. A jointed wheel
is allowed still less. The underwriter
has only to name the number of revo
lutions he authorizes, and to propor
tion his premium to the size of the
wheel. The larger the wheel, of
course, the more destructfve its ex
plosion.—Leslie’s Magazine.
Two Keys, But Only One Keyhole.
The Father Mathew society of Lynn,
Mass., presented two well known
young business men of that city with
a nice roll-top desk. The elder brother,
having been in the country the long
est, is more up to date. He said:
“Dinny, this is a fine present. Here
are two keys; one for you and one
for me.”
“But,” said Dinny, “where is my
keyhole?”
Woman’s Hat Causes Suit.
Prevented from seeing the stage at
the Sarah Bernhardt theater by a
woman’s hat, a Parisian went into a
better seat and sued Mile. Bernhardt
for the difference in price. But he
lost his case.
What Did He Mean?
Crimsonbeak—Did you ever eat any
alfalfa?
Yeast—Certainly not! I’m no horse.
“No, but other things besides horses
eat it.”
HISTORY OF AN ERROR.
Blunder Escaped Notice of Proof*
readers and Editors.
A. B. wrote a certain paper for a
popular journal, says London Tit-Bits.
This paper went through certain suc
cessive stages during the process of
production. At each step it received
a new reading from beginning to end.
Thus:
1. It was written In manuscript.
Then It was read through and in great
part rewritten.
2. It was read through again when
completed and sent to be typewritten.
3. The typewriter read It through
before sending it back.
4. The author corrected the type
written manuscript carefully and sent
it in again.
5. It was then set up in type.
6. The author received a proof,
which he read and corrected, sending
it back for press.
7. The editor or the subeditor read
it finally and passed it for the maga
zine.
The paper thus had at least seven
readings. Yet a blunder was passed,
if the author made it—or committed,
if he did not make it—of-a most ele
mentary description; one that leaps to
the eyes; one that stands out of the
page calling on everybody to spot it,
correct it, put an end to it.
The blunder was simply this: A
certain strike of workingmen was
spoken of as undertaken for “lower'
wages instead of “higher.” How the
word “lower” got there—whether the
author wrote it in the first instance
or the typewriter or the compositor—
it is impossible to say. Probably it
was an author’s mistake. A long suc
cession of readers of the passage fol
lowed. Not one of the readers discov
ered the mistake.
HE WAS A PHILOSOPHER.
But He Couldn’t Stand the Gaff In the
Matter of Golfing Supremacy.
“I hear that your country home was
hit by lightning and burned,” said
Smithers to the philosopher, Jolli
beigh.
“Yes; It made quite a blaze, and it
was not Insured for a penny,” said the
philosopher; “but you know the sum
mer season is almost over, anyway.”
"That’s true,” said his friend, sym
pathetically. “Still, you seem to have
hard luck In another direction.”
“Oh, yes,” said the philosopher.
“Burglars swooped in on my town resi
dence recently, took all the family
plate and looted the house.”
“It doesn’t seem to annoy you any.”
“What is the use of worrying. The
robbery made little difference to me,
for I lost my fortune in Wall street
recently and I couldn’t continue to
live in the style I formerly did."
“Well, well, well, you certainly are
an optimist, old man. But tell me, Is
the newspaper account true that youi
wife Is suing for a divorce?”
“Yes,” answered Jollibeigh, smiling
ly. "You know I haven’t coin enough
now to booBt her social aspirations.”
“That’s just what George Golpher
said on the links this morning. He
was telling me how he beat you three
straight games of golf with a score—’
"Wow!” yelled Jollibeigh, getting
purple in the face. "The liar! The
scoundrel! Let me at him, and I'll
soon teach him to injure my golfing
reputation. Wow! ”
What’s the Use?
When he who saunters gains the goal.
While he who struggles fails at last;
When wings ar£ granted to a mole.
While lrt a snare the bird is fast;
When fate play foul at every cast.
Though thou art honest in the strife.
And steals the little that thou hast—
This is the irony of life!
When one has lost his very soul
In srrivlncs strong and labors vast,
Then frds his name upon the scroll
Of fame by some gay fool outclassed;
When some pale young ecclesiast
Speaks the few tvords that make a wife
Of her he worshiped In the past—
This is the irony of life!
When on the waves that shoreward roll.
After a voyage safely passed,
A tired ship grounds upon a shoal.
And helpless sailors, all aghast.
See grating keel and straining mast
Asunder rent as with a knife.
Sunk in the harbor by the blast—
This is the J*ony of life!
Now. there are no more rhymes to
“—ast”
And likewise no more rhvmes to
"—ife.”
Stung! Who’d have though they wouldn't
last?
This is the irony of life!
—Cleveland Leader.
Everybody Listens.
In a little hamlet a few miles from
Cleveland the telephone hasn't worn
out its novelty and the subscribers
get all they can out of it.
It is said that when the bell sounds
along a certain party line the femi
nine head of each household in the
circuit immediately ceases whatever
she may be doing and comfortably
seating herself at the phone, takes
down the receiver and prepares to
enjoy the conversation to its full ex
tent. A visitor to whom this co
operative scheme was new was some
what disconcerted the other day while
at the phone by a shrill voice that
suddenly Interrupted her In these
words:
“When you git through tellin’ Mary
Jane ’bout that Simpson affair I’d like
to hev a word with her.”—Cleveland
Plain Dealer.
Snake Rang Door Bell.
Mrs. Hughes, whose home is In the
Spring street section, heard her dhor
bell ring the other day. The bell Is
rung by an electric push button. She
looked out of the parlor window be
fore going to the door to see whether
it was a peddler or a solicitor for sig
natures from an improvement asso^
elation. What was her horror upon
beholding a snake standing almost
erect and pressing the button with his
head.
She says the snake rang two or
three times and then glided off the
piazza around to the back stoop.
The iceman had just left the day’s
supply at the outer door. The snake
mounted it, coiled up and went to
sleep, apparently in great enjoyment
When Mrs. Hughes’ boy came home
'rom school the snake was dormant
snd easily killed.—Boston Journal.
Not So Easy to Get Out of It.
Gerald—As It is to be a secret en
gagement it would not be wise for me
o give you a ring at present.
Geraldine—O, but I could wear It on
die wrong hand.
--
1
I
Depot Literature.
"There’s one good thing about your
railroad,” said the tourist to the con
ductor on the Mosquito Bay line.
"What’s that?” was the surprised
query.
“Your time tables. They don’t al
ways get the facts quite right, but
they are never sensational.”
Not Without Experience.
Graspit (angrily)—“What! More
money? If you * keep on you’ll bank
rupt me; then, after I’m dead, you will
be a beggar.”
Mrs. Graspit (calmly)—"Oh, well,
I’d be a great deal better off than
some poor woman who never had any
experience in that line.”
Provoking Mistake.
The caller was angry-, and even bel
ligerent.
“I want an explanation and an apol
ogy, sir,” he said. “In your paper this
morning you had an account of the
wedding at the Smithbys' last night,
and you spoke of ‘the jay that at
tended the happy pair as they went
to the altar.’ Now, sir, I’m the—”
“Gracious heaven!” gasped the ed
itor. “I wrote it ‘joy’!”
He Knew Them.
"Woman’s inhumanity to woman—”
"Yes?”
“Makes man’s inhumanity to man
look like sweet charity.”—Houston
Post.
CALLED HIM DOWN.
“Yes, I believe I did say that you were always lying about yourself."
“Sir, I’m a gentleman!”
"There you go again.”
A Blackmailing Instrument.
The street musician paused at the
steps.
“Mooslc?"
“No, no. Here’s a quarter for you.
Move along.”
“Thanka, signor. It is such a fine
org.”
“Fine! It’s the worst box of discord
ant whistles I ever heard!”
“It is da finbst org’ Pietro ever own.
It plays da tune not 60 much, but it
brings da more mon’.”—Cleveland
Plain Dealer.
Mean.
Mise Planeyrox—My wedding day-Is
a long way off but I get dreadfully
nervous when I think about it.
Miss Kutty—I don’t blame you,
dear. Fortunes are made so rapidly
in these day6, you know.
Mias Planeyrox—What has that got
to do with it?
Miss Kutty—Why, Jack may get
rich suddenly and be in a position to
marry the girl he’s really in love
with.—Detroit Tribune.
Properly Stated.
Mokeley—“Oh! life and death are
not far apart. You hear of so many
people who pass away suddenly.”
Jokelev—“Yes; only the other day I
heard of oqe poor fellow; buried one
day and died the next.”
Mokeley—“You've got that twisted;
you mean'‘died one day and buried the
next.’ ”
Jokeley—“No, I don’t. This man
was an undertaker.”
Down on the Farm.
“But I don't see any mosquito net
ting in my room,” said the young man
who had just arrived.
“Don’t need any," replied the old
farmer. “The mosquitoes are so big
down here you can just pqt on a
catcher’s mask and keep them off.
You’ll find a mask hanging under the
clock.”—Chicago News.
Looked Like a Scandal.
Bacon—I saw Babbs out walking
with his wife’s dressmaker to-day.
Egbert—Are you sure?
“Positive.”
“What did his wife say?”
“Oh, she said a great deal.”
“I should think she would! Who is
kis wire f dressmaker?”
“His wile.”
Cause for Thankfulness.
“I ought to be very thankful,” safd
the Billvllle citizen.
“Why so?”
“Well, only yesterday the sheriff’s
mule ran away with him and broke
his leg just when he was cornin’ to
levy on me!”—Atlanta Constitution.
A Suspicious Agreement.
“I guess your watch is wrong.”
“What! My watch doesn’t vaiy a
quarter of a minute.
“Well, I don’t know how much it’s
out of the wray, but your time is too
blamed near mine to he right.”
Before the Ceremony.
Rural Groom—Sue an’ I can’t see no
reason why we shouldn’t get along
when we’re married.
The Magistrate—Well, I just marry
folks and don’t express any opinions.
A Possible Complication. t
Obebatch—When a man of my age
marries he is usually willing to settle
down for a quiet life.
Miss Young—Yes, but he often mar
ries a girl who accepts him because
she is tired of a quiet life.
Her Popularity.
“Why are the men all crowding
around her?”
“Sh! Don’t you know? She’s that
young widow who paid $12,000 for her
copy of ‘Squints and Glances.’”
“Than Norman Blood.”
Mrs. Van der Hamm—Percy, you
musn’t play with that common Ma
loney boy any more.
Percy—Why nqt, mamma?
Mrs. Van der H.—Because he’s no
body. Why, he hasn’t even a grand
father.
Percy—Maybe not, but he’s got a
goat.
Most Surprising.
“I’ve got something to say to you,
Miss Knox,” began Sapwit, who had
finally summoned up courage to pro
pose, “that—aw—may surprise you. I
think—”
"You do? That certainly does sur
prise me!” interrupted the cruel girl.
The Sea Jests.
‘ Those ships are politp creatures,”
remarked Old Ocean to his friend, the
Beach.
“Indeed?” answered the sandy one.
“Yes, indeed. They always bow to
me.”
Might Be Worth Trying.
May—That hat makes you look
quite pretty.
Irene—Yes? Won’t you try It on?
—Stray Stories.
Left.
When she awoke in the middle of
the night a burglar was standing at
her dresser.
“Leave me!” she screamed.
“That was certainly my intention,
madam.” he answered politely. "The
things I am going to take will be feuf
ficiently burdensome without encum
bering myself with an old maid in
addition.”
She was left again!
Left on the Porch.
Mr. Staylate—My! it’s 10 o’clock.
However, my train doesn’t go till
11:10, and it's very pleasant here on
the porch.
Miss Subbubs—I'm glad you like it.
Mr. Staylate—Yes, but—er—perhaps
I’m keeping you up.
Miss Subbubs—Not at all; I’m going
to lock up and go to bed now.
Remarkable Longevity.
“I see that Binder's father died the
other day at the age of 96.”
“Yes, a remarkable old man. He
never was as happy as when he fan*
cied he wa9 ‘doing’ somebody.”
“But who could he ‘do’ when he was
past 90?”
"The undertaker.”
--
Uncertain.
“What are you doing now, Scribb
lets?”
“Why, I am just about to start a
magazine.”
“Under what name?”
“ ‘The Age of Womam’ Do you think
it will be a success?”
“Well, It is doubtful.”
Might Interrupt Her.
“Now,” said the salesman, “here’s a
piece of dress goods that speaks for
itself.”
“Oh, that would never do,” replied
Henpeck, who was doing some shop
ping for his wife. “Maria always likee
to do most of the talking herself.”
Alphabetic Confusion.
“Is Mr. Scadds a man of scientific
distinction?”
“Yes, Indeed,” answered Miss Cay
enne. “He has so many college de
grees that when he sends in his card
yon can’t be sure whether It Is his
name or a problem in algebra.”
One Exception.
“No,” declared Mr. Nagget, ‘4there
ne^r was a woman on earth who
could refrain from turning around to
rubber at some other woman’s
clothes.”
“No?” replied his wife sweetly.
“Didn’t you ever hear of Eve?”
Mean Thing.
“My wedding presents were splen
did.” the bride was sayiDg, “particu
larly the silver service from the Astor
bilts. Wasn’t it good of them?”
“Yes,” replied Miss Spells; "but
then, you know, they always were
charitable.”
A Consistent Career.
“I can remember when the wealthy
Mr. Hidem didn’t have a dollar of his
own,” said the man who disparages.
“Well,” answered the misanthrope,
“It is said that he Is still doing busi
ness entirely with other people’s dol
lars.”
ENTIRELY HIDDEN.
Mr. Eatem—Walter! Where Is the pork that goes with the beans?
Waiter—Behind one ob de beans, sah!
An Analytical Mind.
"I see thet th’ government has
bought thirty-eight tons of IriSeck pow
der to send to th’ Panyma canal.’*
“What do you s’pose that’s fer,
Amzi”?
“I s'pose it’s fer lnsecks, Sairy.”
"Physician, Heal Thyself.”
"Yes, I should think most of his pa
tients would be right here in town.”
"So they are, but he has to stay in
the White mountains until—er—after
the ragweed and goldenrod disappear.”
Unostentatious.
"Mr. Dustin Stax is inclined to
make an ostentatious display of his
wealth.”
• “You wouldn’t think so,” said the
government employe, "if you worked
in the assessor’s office.”
Not Guilty.
Miss Oldmaid (purchasing music)—
Have You “Kissed Me in the Moon
light”?
Mr. Dopenutt—Why—er—no. It
must havu been the other clerk.
Is This Perjury?
She—Under the new California mar
riage certificate law, the young cou
ple must swear that they are not in
sane.
He—And yet, no doubt, both of the
parties are crazy to get married.
Ready to Fall in Love.
Mercy—I should never marry a man
I did not love.
Maude—But suppose a real) wealthy
man should propose?
Mercy—I should love him, of course.
Three of Them.
Ascum—“Did you hear about the ar
rivals at Rimer’s house?"
Dumley—“Arrivals? Gracious! So
he even has babies In couplets?"
Ascum—“Worse than that. I sup
pose he’d call ’em a triolet.”
Enjoyment.
"Does Bliggins enjoy golf?"
“Don’t see how he can," answered
the enthusiast. “He doesn’t lose his
temper and employ disrespectful lan
guage when he makes a bad play.'*