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I “LABOR, TRADE
I AND CAPITAL”
I By O. HENRY
(Copyright, by Joseph B. Bowles. >
Across enr two dishes of spaghetti,
in a cwscr of Provenzano's restau
rant, Jeff Peters was explaining to me
the three kinds of graft.
Every winter Jeff comes to New
"York to eat spaghetti, to watch the
shipping in East river from the depths
of his chinchilla ^overcoat, and to lay
in a supply of Chicago-made clothing
at one of the Fulton street stores, j
During the other three seasons he
may be found further west—his range
is from Spokane to Tampa. In his
profession be tskes a pride which he!
supports and defends with a serious
and unique philosophy of ethics. His
■profession is no new one. He is an
incorporated, uncapitaltzed. unlimited
asylum for the reception of the rest
’ess and unwise dollars of his fellow
men.
In the wilderness of stone in which
Jeff seeks his annual lonely holiday
lie is glad to palaver of his many ad
ventures. as a boy will whistle aftei
sundown in a wood. Wherefore, I
mark on my calendar the time of his
coming, and open a question of privi
lege at Provenzano's concerning the
little wine-stained table in the corner
A bet ween the rakish rubber plant and
the framed palazzio della something
■on the wall.
"There are two kinds of grafts."
-said Jeff, "that ougbt to be wiped out
by law. 1 mean Wall street specula
lion. and burglary."
"Nearly everybody will agree with
you as to one of them," said I. with a
laugh.
Well, burglary ought to be wiped
•out. too." said Jeff; and 1 wondered
whether the laugh had been redun
dant.
"About three months ago.” said
Jeff, "it wps-my privilege-to become
familiar with a sample of each of the
aforesaid branches of illegitimate art.
1 was sir.e qua grata with a member
of the housebreakers’ union and one
of the John D. Napoleons of finance at
the same time.”
Interesting combination.'' said I.
with a yawn. "Did I tell you 1 barged
a duck and a ground-squirrel at one
shot last week over in the Ramapos?"
1 knew well how to draw Jeff’s stories.
"Let me. jtell. you first about these -
barnacles that clog the wheels of so
ciety l;y poisoning the springs of rec
titude with their upas-like eye." said
Jeff, with the pure gleam of the muck
raker in his own.
' Af 1 said, three months ago 1 got
into had company. There are two
times in a man's life when he does
t liis—when he's dead broke. and
when he's rich.
"Now and then the most legitimate
business runs out of luck. It was out
in Arkansas 1 made the wrong turn
at a cross-road, and drives into this
town of Peavine by mistake. It seems
1 had already assaulted the disfigured
Peavine the spring of the year be
fore. 1 had sold $600 worth of young
fruit trees there— plums, cherries,
peaches and pears. The Peaviners
were keeping an eye on the country
load and hoping I might pass that
way again. 1 drove down Main street
as far as the Crystal Palace drug
store before I realized I had commit
ted rntbush upon myself and my
white horse Bill.
“The Peaviners took me by sur
prise and Bill by the bridle and began
p conversation that wasn't entirely
disassociated with the subject of fruit
trees. A committee of 'em ran some
trace chains through the armholes of
my vest, and escorted me through
their gardens and orchards.
■ Their fruit trees hadn't lived up
to their labels. Most of ’em had
mined out to be persimmons and dog
woods, with a grove or two of black
jacks and poplars. The only one that
showed any signs of bearing anything
was a fine young cottonwood that
had pul forth a hbrnet’s nest and half
■of an old corset-cover.
i lie ri-m iiina pruLiaciea our irun
less stroll to the edge of town. They
look my watch and money on ac
count ; and they kept BUI and the
wagon as hostages. They said the
first time one of them dogwood trees
put forth an Anisden's June peach l
might come back and get my things.
Theu they took off the trace chain
and jerked their thumbs in the direc
ation of the Rocky mountains: and 1
struck a Lewis and Clark lope for the
■swollen rivers and impenetrable for
ests.
“When 1 regained conscientiousness
I found myself walking into an un
identified tow n on the A..* T. & S. F.
lailroad. The Peat-leers hadn't left
anything in my pockets except a plug
of chewing—they wasn't after my life
—and that saved it. I bit off a chunk
and sits down on a pile of ties by the
track to recogitate my sensations of
thought and perspicacity.
"And then along comes a fast
freight which slows up a little at the
town: and off of it drops a black bun
dle that rolls for 20 yards in a cloud
■of dust and then gets up and begins
to spit soft coal and interjections. I
see it is a young man. broad across
the face, dressed .more for Pullmans
than freights, and with a cheerful
kind of smile in spite of It all that
made Phoebe Snow's job look like a
chimney-sweep's.
“ ‘FaM off?' says I.
“ ‘Nunk.’ says he. ‘Got off. Arrived
at my destination. What town -Is
this?'
“ 'Haven't looked it up on the map
yet,' says I. T got in about five min
utes betore you did. How does it
strike you?*
□ “ 'Hard ’ says he, twisting one of
his arms around. ‘I believe that
shoulder—no, it’s all right.’
“He stoops over to brush the dust
off his clothes, when out of his pocket
drops a fine, nine-inch burglar's steel
jimmy. He picks it up and looks at
me sharp, and then grins and holds
out his hand.
_*2___
“Brother,’ says he. ‘greetings.
Didn't I see you in southern Missouri
last summer selling colored sand at
half-a do-lar a teaspoonful to put intc
lamps to keep the oil from exploding?’
“ ’Oil, says I, never explodes. It’s
the gas that forms that explodes.' But
I shakes hands with him, anyway.
“ ‘ Vly name's Bill Bassett,' says he
to me, 'and if you’ll call it professional
1-ride instead of conceit, I’ll inform
you that you have the pleasure of
meeting the best burglar that ever set
a gum-shoe on mound drained bjr. the
Mississippi river.’
“Well, hie and this Bill Bassett sits
on (he ties and exchanges brags as
artists in kindred lines will do. It
seems he didn't, have a cent, either,
and we went into close caucus. He
explained why an able burglar some
times haa to travel on freights by
telling me that a servant giri had
played him false In Little Rock, and
he was making a quick get-away.
“ ’It's part of my business,' says
Hill Bassett, ‘to play up to the ruf
fles when I want to make a riffle as a
Raffles. ‘Tis loves that makes the bit
go ’round. Show me a house with the
swag in it and a pretty parlor-maid,
and you might as weH call the silver
melted down and sold, and me spell
ing truffles and that Chateau trick on
the napkin under mv chin, while the
l<eliee are calling it an inside job just
because the old lady's nephew teaches
a Bible class. I first make an impres
sion on the girl,’ says Bill, ’and when
she lets me inside 1 make an impres
sion on the locks. But this one in
Little Rock done me,’ says he. ‘She
saw me taking i^trolley ride with an
other girl, and vthen I came ’round on
tbe night she was to leave the door
open for me it-was fast. And I had
keys made for the doors upstairs. But,
no sir. She had sure cut off my locks.
She was a Delilah,' says Bill Bassett.
“It seems that Bill tried to break
in anyhow with his jimmy, but the
girl omitted a succession of bravura
noises like the top-riders of a tally-ho,
and Bill had to take all the hurdles
after sundown and In a quiet place,
nobody saw us stop him. Bill takes
the silk hat off his head and brushes
it w!th his sleeve and puts it back.
“ ‘What does this mean, sir?* says
the man.
“ ‘When I wore one of these.' says
Bill, ‘and felt embarrassed, I always
done that. Not having one now I
bad to use yours. 1 hardly know how
to begin, sir. in explaining our busi
ness. with you. but I .guess i we'll try
your pockets first.'
“Bill Bassett felt in all of them, and
looked disgusted.
‘“Not even a watch,' says be.
‘Ain't you ashamed of yourself, you
whited- sculpture? Going about dressed
like a head-waiter, and financed like a
count. You haven't even got carfare.
What did you do with your transfer?’
“The man speaks up and says he
has no assets or valuables of any sort
But Bassett takes his hand-satchel
and opens it Out comes some collars
and socks and half a page of a news
paper clipped out Bill reads the clip
pings careful, and holds out his hand
to the held-up party.
“‘Brother,’ says he, „‘greetings!
Accept the- apologies of friends. I am
Bill Bassett, the burglar. Mr. Peters,
you must make the acquaintance of
Mr. Alfred E. Ricks. Shake hands^
Mr. Peters,’ says Bill, ‘stands about
halfway between me and you, Mr.
Ricks, in the line of havoc and cor
ruption. He always gives something
for the money he gets. I’m glad to
meet you. Mr. Ricks—you and Mr.
Peters. This is the first time I ever
attended a full gathering of the na
tional synod of sharks—housebreak
ing, swindling and financiering all rep
resented. Please examine Mr. Ricks’
credentials. Mr. Peters.'
"The piece of newspaper that Bill
Bassett handed me had a good picture
of this Ricks on it. It was a Chicago
paper, and it had obloquies of Ricks
in every paragraph. By reading it
over l harvested the intelligence that
said alleged Ricks had laid off all that
portion of the state of Florida that
lies under water into town lots and
sold 'em to alleged innocent investors
from his magnificently furnished of
fices !n Chicago. After he had taken
in a hundred thousand or so dollars
one of these fussy purchasers that are
always making trouble (I’ve had 'em
actually try gold watches I've sold
em with acid) took a cheap excursion
down to the land where it is always
just before supper to look at his lot
and see if it didn't need a new paling
or two on the fence, and market a
few lemons in time for the Christmas
present trade. He hires a surveyor to
find his lot for him. They run the
fttl of bread and spareribs and pies.
“ 'Panhandled ’em at a farmhouse
or Washita avenue.' says he. 'Eat,
drink, and be leary.'
“The full moon was coming up
bright, so we sat on the floor of the
cabin azio ate in the light of it. And
this Bill Elassett begins to brag.
“ ‘Sometimes.’ says he. with his
mouth full of country produce. ‘I lose
all patience with you people that
«hink you are higher up in the profes
sion than I am. Noft; wT»at could
either of you do in the present emer
gency to set ns on our feet again?
Could you. do It. Ricksy?'
“ ‘I must confess, Mr. Bassett.’ says
Ricks, speaking nearly inaudible out
of a slice of pie. ‘that at this immedi
ate juncture 1 could not, perhaps, pro
mote an enterprise to relieve the sit
uation. targe operations, such as I
direct, naturally require careful prep
aration in advance. I—
“ ‘I know, Ricksy,' breaks in Bill
Bassett. ‘You needn't finish. You
need $500 to make the first payment
on a blonde typewriter, and four
roomsful of quartered oak furniture.
And you need $500 more for advertis
ing., contracts. And you need two
"weeds' time for the fish to begin to
bite. Your line of relief would be
about as useful in an emergency as
advocating municipal ownership to
cure a man suffocated by 80-cent gas.
And your graft ain't much swifter
Brother Peters.’ he winds up.
“ 'Oh.' nays I. ‘I haven't seen you
turn anything into gold with your
wand yet, Mr. Good Fairy. 'Most any
body could rub the magic ring for a
little left-over victuals.’
“ That was only getting the pump
kin ready,' says Bassett, braggy and
cheerful. The coach and six'll
, drive up to the -door before you know
it. Miss Cinderella. Maybe you’ve got
some scheme under your sleeve-hold
ers that will give us a start.’
“ ‘Son,' says I, ‘I'm fifteen years
older than, you are. and young enough
to yet take out an endowment policy.
I've been broke before. We can see
the lights of that town not half a mile
away. I learned under Montague Sil
ver, the greatest street man that ever
spoke from a wagon. There are hun
dreds of men walking those streets
this moment with grease spots on
their clothes. Give me a gasoline
lamp, a dry goods box, and a two-dol
lar bar of white castile soap, cut into
little-’
“ ‘Where's your two dollars?’ snick
ered Bill Bassett into my discourse.
There was no use arguing with that
burglar.
‘ "No,’ he goes on: ‘you’re both
i babes-in-the-wood. Finance has closed
And off it drops, a black bundle 'that rolls for. twenty yards.
between there and the depot. As he
had no baggage they tried hard to
cheek his departure, but he made a
train that was just pulling opt.
" ‘Well,’ says Bill Bassett, when we
had exchanged memoirs of our dead
lives. ‘I could eat. This town don’t
look like it was kept under a Yale
lock. Suppose v;e commit some mild
atrocity that will bring in temporary
expense .money. I don’t suppose
you've brought along any hair tonic
| or rolled gold watch chains, or similar
1 ias-defying swindles that you could
: sell on the plaza to the pikers of the
j paretic populace, have you?’
, “ 'No,' says I, T left an elegant line
of Patagonian diamond earrings and
j rainy-day sunbursts in my valise at
j Peavine. But they're to stay there till
i some of them blackgum trees begin to
! glut the market with yellow clings
; and Japanese plums. I reckon we
can’t count on them unless we take
Luther Burbank in for a partner.’
‘ ‘Very well.’ says Bassett, ’we’ll do
the best we can. Maybe' after dark
I'll borrow a hairpin from some lady,
' and open the Farmers & Drovers Ma
I tine bank with it.’
“While we was talking, up pulls a
: passenger train to the depot nearby.
A person in a high hat gets off on the
wrong side of the train and comes
tripping down tile track towards us.
He was a little, fat man with a big
nose and rat's eyes, but dressed ex
pensive, and carrying a hand-satchel
carefnl. as if it had eggs or railroad
bonds in it. He passes by us and
keeps on down the track, not appear
ing to notice the town.
“ Come on,' sa;rs Bill Bassett to me,
starting after him.
“ Where?’ I asks.
“ ‘Lordy!’ sayt, Bill, had you for
got you was in tike desert? Didn’t you
see Ool. Manna drop down right be
fore your eyes? Don’t yon hear the
rustling of Gen. Raven's wings? I'm
surprised at yon. Kiijah,'
“We overtook the stranger in the
edge of some woods, and, as it was
_Ji___
line out and find the flourishing town
of Paradise Hollow, so advertised, to
be £l>out 40 rods and 16 poles S., 27
degrees E. of the middle of Lake
Okeechobee. This mail’s lot was un
der r.6 feet, of water, and, besides, had
been preempted so long by the alli
gators and gars that his title looked
fishy.
“Naturally, the man goes back to
Chicago and makes it as hot for Al
lred E. Ricks as the morning after a
prediction of snow by the weather
j bureau. Ricks defied the allegation,
i but he couldn't deny the alligators.
! One morning the papers come out
j with a column about it, and Ricks
| comes out by the fire-escape. It seems
| the alleged authorities had beat him
i to the safe-deposit box where he kept
j his winnings, and Ricks has to west
I ward hoi with only feetwear and a
| dozen 1 5>£ English pokes in his shop
| ping bag. He happened to have some
mileage left in his book, and that
took him as far as the town in the
wilderness where he was spilled out
on me and Bill Bassett: as Elijah HI,
with net a raven in sight for any of
us.
“Then this Alfred E. Ricks lets oat
| a squeak that he is hungry, too, and
j passes up the hypothesis that he is
i good for the value, let alone the price,
I of a meal. And so. there was the
j three of us, representing, if we had a
mind to draw syllogisms and parabo
las. labor and trade and capital. Now,
when trade has no capital there isn’t
a dicker to be made. And when capi
tal &as no money there'? a stagnation
in steak and onions, ’rhat pat it np
to the man with the jimmy.
“ Brother bushrangeis,' says Bill
Bassett, ‘never yet, in trouble, did I
desert a pal. Hard by. in yon wood,
II seem to see unfurnished lodgings.
Let ns go there and wait till dark.'
“There was an old, deserted cabin
in the grove, and we three took pos
session of it. After dark Bill Bassettj
tells us to wait, and goes out for half!
an hour. He comes back with a arm- i
_-Jr:ivL,, /
the mahogany desk, and trade has put
the shutters up. Both of you look to
labor to start the wheels going. All
right. You admit It. To-night I’ll
show you what Bill Bassett can do.'
“ Bassett tells me and Ricks not to
leave the cabin till he comes back,
even if it's daylight, and then he
starts off toward town, whistling
gay.'
“This Alfred E. Ricks pulls off his
shoes and his coat, lays a silk hand
kerchief over his hat, and lays down
on the floor.
“ T think I will endeavor to secure
a little slumber.' he squeaks. The
day has been fatiguing. Good-night,
my dear Mr. Peters.'
“ My regards to Morpheus,' says I.
"I think I'll sit up a while.’
“About two o'clock, as near as I
could guess by my watch in Peavine,
home comes our laboring man and
kicks up Ricks, and calls us to the
streak of bright moonlight shining in
the cabin door. Then he spreads out
five packages of $1,000 each on the
floor, and begins to cackle over the
nest-egg like a hen. .
“ ‘I’ll tell you a few things about
that town.’ says he. ‘It's named
Rocky Springs, and they’re building a
Masonic temple, and it looks Uhe the
Democratic candidate for mayor is
going to get soaked by a Pop, and
Judge Tucker's wife, who has been
down with pleurisy, is some better. I
had to talk on these liliputlan thesises
before 1 could get a siphon In the
fountain of knowledge that I was
after. And there’s a bank there called
the Lumberman's Fidelity and Plow
man's Savmgs Institution. It closed
for business yesterday with $2$,000
cash on hand. It will open this morn
ing with $18,000—all silver—that’s the
reason I didn’t bring more. There
you are, trade and capital. Now, will
you be bad?'
“ 'My young friend.' says Alfred E.
Ricks, holding up. his hands, 'have
yon robbed this hank? Dear me
dear me!’
*
“ ‘You couldn't call ft that.’ says
Bassett. ‘ “Robbing” sounds harsh.
All I had to do was to find out what
street it was on. That town is so
quiet that I could stand on the corner
and hear the tumblers clicking in that
safe lock—"right to 45: left twice to
80; right once to 60: left to 15”—as
plain as the Yale captain giving orders
in the football dialect. Now. boys,’
says Bassett, ‘this is an early rising
town. They tell me the citizens are
alt up attd.^tirring before daylight. I
asked what for. and they said be
cause breakfast was ready at that
time. And what of merry Robin
Hood? It must be Yoicks! and away
with the tinkers’ chorus. I'll stake
you. How much do you want? Speak
up. Capital.'
“ ‘My dear young friend.' says this
ground squirrel of a Ricks, standing
on his hind legs and juggling nuts in
his paws. ‘I have friends in —Denver
who would assist me. If I had a hun
dred dollars I—’
“Bassett unpins a package of the
currency and throws five twenties to
Ricks.
“‘Trade, how much?' he says to
me.
“ ‘Put your money up. Labor.' says
I. ‘I never yet drew upon honest toil
for its hard-earned pittance. The dol
lars I get are surplus ones that are
—
Packages of 91,000 each.
burning the pockets of damfools and
greenhorns. When I stand on a
street corner and sell a solid gold dia
mond ring to a yap for three dollars,
I make just $2.60. And I know he’s
going to give it to a girl in return for
all the benefits accruing from a $125
ring. His profits are $122. Which of
us is the biggest fakir?'
And wnen you sell a poor woman
a pinch of sand for 50 cents to keep
her lamp from exploding.' says Bas
sett, 'what do you figure her gross
earnings to be, with sand at 40 cents
a ton?’
“ 'Listen.' says I. ‘I instruct her to
keep her lamp clean and well filled.
If she does that it can't bust. And
with the sand in it she knows it can t,
and she don't worry. It's a kind of
industrial Christian Science. She pays
50 cents, and gets both Rockefeller
and Mrs. Eddy on the job. It ain't
everybody that can let the gold-dust
twins do their work.'
“Alfred E. Ricks all but licks the
dust off of Bill Bassett's shoes.
“ ‘My dear young friend,' says he, i
will never forget your generosity.
Heaven will reward you. But let me
implore you to turn from your ways
of violence and crime.'
“ 'Mousie.' says Bill, ‘the hole in the
wainscoting for yours. Your dogmas
and inculcations sound to me like the
last words of a bicycle pump. What
has your high moral, elevator-service
system of pillage brought you to?
Penuriousness and want. Even Bro
ther Peters, who insists upon contam
inating the art of robbery with
theories of commerce and trade, ad
mitted he was on the lift. Both of
you live by the gilded rule. Brothev
Peters,’ says Bill, ‘you'd better choose
a slice of this embalmed currency.
You're welcome.'
“I told Bill Bassett once more to
put his money in his pocket. I never
had the respect for burglary that some
people have. I always gave some
thing for the money I took, even if it
was only some little trifle for a sou
venir to remind tern not to get caught
again.
“And then Alfred E. Ricks grovels
at Bill’s feet again, and bids us adieu.
He says he will have a team at a
farmhouse, and drive to the station
below, and take the train for Denver.
It salubrified the atmosphere when
that lamentable boll-worm took his de
parture. He was a disgrace to every
nonindustrial profession in the coun
try. With all his big schemes and
fine offices he had wound up unable
even to get an honest meal except by
the kindness of a strange and maybe
unscrupulous burglar. I was glad to
see him go. though I felt a little sorry
for him, now that he was ruined for
ever. What could such a man do
without a big capital to work with?
Why, Alfred E. Ricks, as we left him,
was as helpless as a turtle on its back.
He couldn’t have worked a scheme to
beat' a little girl out of a penny slate
pencil.
“When me and Bill Bassett was left
alone I did a little sleight-of-mind turn
in my head with a trade secret at the
end of it. Thinks I. I'll show this Mr.
Burglar Man the difference between
business and labor. He had hurt some
of my professional self-adulation by
casting his Persians upon commerce
and trade.
“ ‘I won't take any of your money as a
gift, Mr. Bassett,’ says 1 to him,
’but if you’ll pay my expenses as a
traveling companion until we get out
of the danger zone of the immoral def
icit you have caused in this town’s
finances to-night. I’ll be obliged.’
“Bill Bassett agreed to that, and
we hiked westward as soon as we
could catch a safe train.
“When we got to a town in Arizona
called Los Perros I suggested that we
once more try our luck on terra cotta.
That was the home of Montague Sil
ver, my old instructor, now retired
from business. 1 knew Monty would
stake me to web money if I eould
show him a fly buzzing ’round in the
Ideality. Bill Bassett said all towns
looked alike to him as he worked
mainly in the dark. So we got off the
train in Los Perros. a fine little town
in the sliver region.
. r-.v;>V is •
“I had an elegant HttTe sure thing !
in the way of a commercial slung
shot that I intended to hit Bassett be
hind the ear with. I wasn't going tc
take his money while he was asleep,
but I was going to leave him with a
lottery ticket that would represent fn
experience to him $5,755—f think that:
was the amount he had when he got:
off the train. But tlxe first time I
hinted to him about an investment, he
turns on me and disencumbers him
self of the following terms and ex
pressions;
“ ‘Brother Peters.* says he, ‘ft ain't
a bad idea to go into an enterprise of
some kind, as you suggest. I think I
wiil. But if I do it will be such a cold
proposition thai nobody but Robert E.
Peary and Charlie Fairbanks will be
able to sit on thk board of directors.'
“ ‘I thought you might want to turn
your money over.* says I.
“ T do,’ says he, ’frequently. I can’t
sleep on one side all night. I’ll tell
you. Brother Peters,’ says he, T’m
going to start a poker room. I don’t
seew-+e care for the humdrum in
swindling, such as peddling egg-beat
ers and working off breakfast food
on Barnum and Bailey for sawdust to
strew in their circus rings. But the
gambling business.’ says he, ‘from the
profitable side of the table is a good
compromise between swiping silver
spoons and selling penwipers at a
Waldorf-Astoria charity bazaar.’
“ ‘Then.’ says I, ‘Mr. Bassett, you
don’t care to talk over my little busi
ness proposition?’
“ ‘Why,’ says he, ’do you know, you
can’t get a Pasteur institute to start
up within 50 miles of where I live. I
bite so seldom.’ ’
“So Bassett rents a room over a
saloon and looks around for some fnr
niture and cbromos. The same night
I went to Monty Silver’s house, and
he let me have $200 on my prospects.
Then 1 went to the only store in Los
Perros that sold playing cards and
bought every deck in the house. The
next morning when the store opened
I was there, bringing all the cards
back with me. 1 said that my partner
that was going to back me in the
game had changed his mind; and I
wanted to sell the cards back again.
The storekeeper took ’em at half
price.
“Yes. I was $75 loser up to that
time. But while I had the cards that
night I marked every one in every
deck. That was labor. And then trade
and commerce had their innings, and
the bread I had cast upon the waters
began to come back in the form of
cottage pudding with wine sauce.
“Of course I was among the first to
buy chips at Bill Bassett’s game. He
had bought the only cards there was
to be had in town: and I knew the
back of every one of them better than
I know the back of my head when the
barber shows me my haircut in the
two mirrors.
“When the game closed I had the
six thousand and a few odd dollars, and
all Bill Bassett had was the wander
"Well, bJ-glary ought to be wiped
out, too.”
lust and a black cat he had bought for
a mascot. Bill shook hands with me
when I left.
" 'Brother Peters.' says he, 'I have
no business being in business. I was
preordained to labor. When a Xo. 1
burglar tries1 to make a James out of
his jimmy he perpetrates an impro
fundity. You have a well-oiled and
efficacious system of luck at cards,'
say3 he. ‘Peace go with you.' And I
never afterward sees Bill Bassett
again."
"Well, Jeff." said I. when the Auto
lycan adventurer seemed to have di
vulged the gist of hi6 tale, "I hope you
took care of the money. That would
be a respects—that Is a considerable
working capital if you should choose
some day to settle down to some sort
of regular business.”
“Me?" said Jeff, virtuously. “You
can bet I've taken care of that six
thousand."
He tapped his coat over the region
of his chest exultantly.
“Gold mining stock." he explained,
“every cent of it. Shares par value
one dollar. Bound to go up 500 per
cent, within a year. Nonassessable.
The Blue Gopher mine. Just discov
ered a month ago. Better get in vour
■ seif if you've any spare dollars on
hand.”
"Sometimes." said I, “these mines
are not—”
“Oh. this one's solid as an old
goose." said Jeff. “Fifty thousand dol
lars’ worth of ore in sight, and ten
per cent, monthly earnings guaran
teed.”
He drew a long envelope from his
pocket and cast it on the table.
^Always carry it with me,” said he.
"So the burglar can't carrupt or the j
capitalist break in and water it.”
I looked at the beautifully engraved
certificate of stock.
“In Colorado. I see,” said I. “And,
by the way. Jeff, what was the name
of the little man who went to Denver
—the one you and Bill met at the sta
tion?"
“Alfred E. Ricks,” said Jeff, “was
the toad's designation.”
“I see,” said I, "the president of
this mining company Bigns himself A.
L. Fredericks. I was wondering—”
“Let me see that stock,” said Jeff
quickly, almost snatching it from me.
To mitigate, even though slightly,
the embarrassment of the moment I
summoned the waiter and ordered an
other bottle of the Barbers. 1 thought
it was the least 1 could do.
^mm
HOUSEHOLD HINTS.
; If stcre polish bo moistened with
benzine the blacking will last much
longer and be brighter on the stove.
To remove cakes readily from tins
place them on a wet towel or cloth
immediately on taking them from the
oven.
Chopped pecan nats. almond and
pine nuts may be sprinkled over let
tuce and covered with French dress
ing for a dinner salad.
It is said that in sprinkling clothes
if a whisk broom is used the clothes
will be dampened much more even
ly than by sprinkling with the hand.
If when salt and flour bags are emp
tied you will put them in the clothes
hamper to be washed and boiled out.
you will always have a supply of
jelly strainers. Tbe salt bag is just
tbe thing for tbe odd glasses of jelly
made all during tbe season.
The^next time you make dump
lings to add to stewed chicken, in
stead of mixing them with water, use
some et the liquor in which the
chicken has been cooked. The flavor
is much richer. The same may be
tested with good results when mak
ing a baked potpie, and the richness of
the dough is delicious.
TO COOK WESTPHALIA HAM.
Dish Requires Care and Attention to
Turn Out Well.
In cutting a Westphalian ham for
cooking, one should see that the slices
are thick rather than thin, and that
all, if more than one is to be cooked,
are of about the same thickness. Soak
them for an hour in sufficient milk to
cover them; then wipe them dry and
fry them on both sides, using a little
pure lard to grease the pan. When
cooked sufficiently, and this means
that they must not be fried too long,
the meat should be placed upon a hot
platter, while a heaping cupful of
bread crumbs should be poured into
the hot fat in the frying pan. After
they have fried for a few seconds, for
it will not take long for them to brown
slightly, moisten them with about two
tablespoonfuls of vinegar and a tea
cupful of gravy or good beef stock.
Boil the sauce for a few minutes
longer; then add a tablespoonful of
chopped parsley, with enough salt and
pepper to season agreeably, and pour
the sauce over the slices of ham. You
will be astonished at the result.
_ «
(.now enow.
One peck of green tomatoes, two
quarts of string beans, one quart lima
beans, one dozen ears of corn, one
dozen carrots, one dozen onions, one
dozen cucumbers, one head of cab
bage, five green peppers, three cups
sugar, one tablespoon salt, half pound
ground mustard, one ounce of celery
seed, half ounce of tumeric powder.
Slice tomatoes, let stand over night,
boil the beans, corn and carrots, chop
the cucumbers and peppers, slice the
onions and cabbage, boil all half an
hour in vinegar enough to cover and
add a little alum about the size of a
bean in the vinegar.
Wash Silk Embroidery.
In washing silk embroideries only
fine white soap should be used in
making the suds—it should never be
rubbed on them The water in which
they are washed and rinsed should be
tepid and never hot. and the pieces
should be rolled wet in a cloth with
a cloth spread over, so that in rolling
the silk will not fold back on itself.
When the piece is nearly dry it should
be ironed with the cloth between it
and the iron. Treated in this way silk
will not soon grow yellow.
Ironing Sleeves.
Be sure to have a small ironing
board or sleeve board to iron sleeves
on. They come the shape of a large
ironing board, smaller at one end than
at the other. The sleeve can be
ironed in half the time it takes to do
it on the large board and then there
is no crease in the back of the sleeve.
Tucked yokes of thin waists may be
ironed nicely on this sleeve board
without mussing the other parts of
the waist.
Devil’s Food Cake.
Cream a half-cup of butter with a
half-cup sugar and beat into it three
whipped eggs. Cook together a half
cup of grated chocolate and a half
cup of milk until thick and smooth.
Cool this and add to the other mix
ture, then add a gill of milk, two scant
cups of flour and a teaspoonful of
soda dissolved in a little het water.
Bake in a slow oven, and cover with a
white icing.
Chestnut Sauce.
Chestnut sauce is an excellent ac
companiment to boiled fowl, and,
forms a pleasant change from parsley,
usually served with it. Boil or bake
a score of chestnuts till tender, then
pound the white part in a mortar to
a paste, with two ounces butter, a
pinch of sugar and one-half teaspoon
salt. Mix slowly'with it one-half
pint of cream, stir over the fire till
it boils.
Barley and Tomatoes.
Wash half a cup of barley and soak
for four hours. At the end of that
time put it Into the double boiler with
one quart of boiling water and one
teaspoon of saiit. Cook for one hoar.
Then add one-half can of tomatoes and
a medium sized onion cut up fine.
Let it cook half an hour longer. About
ten minutes before serving mix in one
tablespoonful of grated cheese and a
piece of butter the size of a walnut.
To Mend a Torn Page.
How often a page which has a
slight tear in it is left unmended until
the tear gradually grows larger and
then finally part of the page is gone
altogether. The best way to mend a
torn page is to paste over it a piece
of thin waxed paper. The printing
can be easily seen through this and
the page is almost as strong as when
new.
Opaque Glass Window.
Take a piece of soft; putty and tie it
closely in a [ifese of cheese cloth. Pat
the plain glass over with the cloth
until every part is covered with a
thin white coating. When this has
dried so that it will not rub oil brush
it over with one coat of white varnish.
This window may l»e
plain glass.
