The Red Cloud chief. (Red Cloud, Webster Co., Neb.) 1873-1923, August 13, 1914, Image 6

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    RED OLOUD, NEBRASKA, CHIEF
me LAPSE
V
DwnwflTwoFin
gr ISABEL GORDON CURTIS
h"Jor f "The Woman jrom WolvertfoAs"
ILLUSTRATIONS tfr ILL5 WOKlTi YOUNG-
copyrighi: wn py r.c.preowNE s.co.
CHAPTER XXVI Continued.
AcrosB tho palo faco of tho Invalid
wept a wave of scarlet; then ho bo
gan to tulk slowly and hoBttutlngly.
"I was In a Southern academy tho first
tlmo it hnpponcd I must havo been
goventoen or thcrcaboutB. Prizes wcro
to bo givon for a public oration and
pcaplo wcro coming from ovorywhoro
to hear ub. TIhi governor was to ad
dress us. My father was a lawyer, ono
of tho big lawyers of tho stato. Iln
wont to this school when ho was a
boy, and ho had carried off tho oration
prizo. Ills hoart wub set on my win
ning It. I tolled nnd tolled over that
speech; It was about the death of
Julius CncBnr. I can remember, as 1
lay nwnko nights staring out into tho
darkness, how tho speech camn throb
blng In my brain. I could nuvur write,
though, ob 1 declaimed it to myself In
tho still dormitory. I used to go out
Into tho woods and try to write. One
day I gavo up. 1 sat huddlod'ngalnBt
r stono wall which ran down tho hill,
dividing a pasture from tho forest.
Thero was a tall pine ovor my head
and tho crows were calling from the
top of it. I can bco tho placo yet."
Enoch lifted his oyes and turned
to meet tho steady glance of tho man
who sat beside tho bed.
"Do you want to hear tho story
out?" he asked bluntly.
"Yes If you aro bound to toll It."
"It Isn't an easy task to set tho
Btark-naked soul of man bctoro anoth
er's gazo, especially when It's a man's
own soul; but I've been ovor this,
stop by step, during thoso bedridden
days, and I'll feel hotter when it's out
of my system."
"Aro you suroT" Merry spoke gent-
"Yes, suro." Tho reflectlvo tone had
gono from Enoch's voice. Ifwas em
phatic. 'Out thero In tho sunshine,"
ho continued, "I realized what defeat
meant. I know my oration was mere
ly a babblo of senseless words; there
was not a throb In It. Ocsldcs, 1 know
that I could not mako It butter. Sud
denly, on tho quiet hillsldo, I heard
a volco closo beside mo."
Thero was a long pauso. Wentworth
turned his oyes from Merry and stared
out at tho wludow. A trumpet vine
climbed over tho back of tho Wavcrly
Placo houso and ouo Scarlet blosBom
hung vivid between him and tho sun
shine. "'
"Say, old fellow," said Merry In a
low voice, "you nnd I aro friends,
closer friends than wo ever were.
What'B tho ubo of raking up old mom
orles if they hurt. Tho Btory of some
thing you did when you wero in Bwud
dllng clothes doesn't count. Drop It!"
"It does count," nnswercd Went
worth stolidly. "I toll you It doos
count. It la tho only thing that ex
plains what I did when you called my
bluff. I havo lain here I've hud days
and nights with nothing to do but to
"What's the Use of Raking Up Old
Memories?"
think and to analyze things. Why,
old man, I bavou't had a chance liko
this for years botoro. Let mo tell you
my Btory; it's interesting eveu If it
Isn't much to my credit."
"AH right, havo your own way."
"I sat thero in tho shadow of tho
wall listening. It was young David
Iloss practising his oration. Dave
camo of what tho niggers called 'po'
whlto traBh,' but ho had ambltlou and
gentuB and was working his way
through school liko a man. lie had
chosen tho death of Caesar, as 1 had.
I crouched thero, scarcely breathing;.
I was afraid hu would hear mo nnd
utop. Ills speech was great! As 1
eat looking out over tho valley 1 could
eoo tho Roman warrior whllo hu stood
there in tho Scnnto, down and out,
hooted at and reviled, yet haughty nnd
defiant, facing the enemies who had
once been his friends. 1 began to
ob, as a boy does In a shamed, husky,
mm.
- m
wmEmsSflm
of
choked fashion. Suddenly a thought
camo to mo. I leaped over tho wall
and held beforo Davo a new twenty
dollar gold-pleco father had given mo
that morning. It bought his oration."
Wentworth paused as If in an em
barrassment of shamo. Merry watched
him In sllcnco.
"I feel even now tho reluctant
grip with which Davo hold on to those
sheets of blurred foolscap. I novor
gavo a thought to what I had, dono.
Every moment for twenty-four hours
was needed to commit Dave's speech
to memory. My father, proud and hap
py, gavo mo another twenty-dollar
gold-pleco. I carried It to Davo. Ho
refused It, turning his back on mo
with angry scorn. Twenty years later
I mot him again. Ho had gono to
congreBH nnd was blasting his wny
upwards toward fame I wob assigned
to lntorviow hlra. Ho romembcrcd me
Instantly. For a moment ho stared nt
mo from head to foot, then ho turned
away without a word and never
touched tho hand I offered him. My
God! how that hurt!" A Bhlver wont
through tho man's body.
"That happened twenty-live years
ago," said Morry hesitatingly. "You
can't lay up a boyhood sin against a
man. Ho changes ho'B almost an
other human being,"
"No, ho isn't," answered Wentworth
doggedly. "I want to show you that
tho psychological fellow was In the
right. That was my first fall from
graco; but there was a second lesion.
It was worse, worso even than than
what I did to you, Merry. I was out
In the Ilalkan mountains where the
blamed barbarian Turks go tearing at
each other's throats once in so often.
Tho world looked on, waiting for a
Btory of war. I had nono to tell, noth
ing happened but a skirmish or two
once in a while. Thero was nothing
a man could mako Into a story. It
was a wretched campaign. Young
Forsyth, of tho Tribune, and I hung
together through it for months, living
liko stray dogs, sick to death of our
Job, and ready to throw It up at any
moment. One morning at daybreak
wo were awakened by shooting. Wo
scrambled from the cava whero we
had slept and looked down Into the
valley. Wo wcro -In tho very heart of
a battlo, and thoso Bnvages wero climb
ing over tho rocks' with their cutlasses
Hashing. They shrieked like maniacs,
tho bullets went Hying about our
hcadB. I crept back to tho holu among
tho rocks whero wo had spent tho
night. I couldn't seo what was hap
pening; I didn't wnnt to see. Death
shrlckB echoed all around and above
me. It was tho most hellish din or
battle I ever llBtcncd to. I had turned
coward. I lay thero with every tooth
In my head chattering. A nice con
fession for a man to mako, eh?" asked
Wentworth with a grim smllo.
Merry half tobo then dropped back
'into his chair "Hold on, Enoch, I
swear you're not fit for this sort of
thing! Your temperature will go up,
then tho nurse "
"Damn tho nurso. I'm fit enough;
keep Btlll. 1 want to finish my story.
Forsyth, the Intrepid young fool, went
creeping ulong tho face of tho cliff.
He had never Been a battlo before. I
called to htm to lie low, but bo never
heeded mo. Through a crovlce in tho
rock I snw him stretch his head over
tho chasm and crane his neck, then
pluugo down and begin to wrlto as It
he wero mad. Onco I sneaked out
and tried to drag him in besido me.
Ho fought liko a wildcat, so 1 went
back to shelter. Tho bullets pinged on
tho rocks nil around mo. Suddenly 1
"- - ", feuibiuift, a,, iui Miy nun
fiOincbodv called inv nnmn In n linnrRo
shout. It was Forsyth. 1 crept out.
lie Btood on a cliff above mo, clutch
ing at lila throat, then ho toppled and
loll. Hu came plunging down over tho
rocks until ho reached my feet. Ho
was dead, stark dead, when 1 pulled
him into tho cave. His notebook was
clutched bo tight in his hand that I
tore n corner from ono pago as 1 took
It from his Hugors. I burled him right
thero.
"After a little whllo tho battlo fiz
zled down to a stray shot or two. That
night under tho gleam of a sputtering
little torch I rend Forsyth s btory. It
waa tremendous porfectly tremen
dousperfectly tremondous! It read
liko Inspired stuff. I had never
dreamed tho fellow had such a vocab
ulary. And ho lay thero closo beside
mo, asleep undor the damp, warm,
soft earth. I had a tit of tho horrors.
I put out my light, stuffed tho paces
of writing In my pocket, then went
doubling nnd twisting down those wild
mountains, dodging tho enemy's camp
fires and their infernal bullets, until
1 reached tho miserable little town In
tho valley wo two men had our
headquarters. I hurried to tho tele
graph olllco to send out Forsyth's story
to tho Trlbuno, with tho news or his
death. I was waiting to get tho wiro
when somebody handed mo a cable.
1 looked nt it luilf-dazed. It camo from
my own paper, crazy because I had
sent them no story; thoy wero hungry
as vultures for now, As soon ns I
could get a wiro 1 sent out Forsyth's
story."
"Under hla nnmo?" asked Merry
qulotly,
"No," Enoch lift! hla head, looked
At his rrietid with guilt and Hlinmo In
his eyeo, then he turned away. "No,
1 signed my own name to it. I sent
it to my own paper. I wired tho news
of Forsyth's death to tho Tribune."
Neither of tho men spoke for some
minutes. When Merry turned, Went
worth lay staring at him with a pray
er for pity, comprehension, and for
giveness in his eyes. '
"I want you to understand one
thing," pleaded tho older man. "When
you called my bluff that morning and
I wrote that bond, I was Innocent of
nny thought of Injury to you. I don't
know what wbb In my mind. It was
nothing In tho world but an Idle fancy.
I told you so at tho time. I did not
dream that you could write a play. If
anyono had told mo you wero capablo
of turning out 'Tho Houso of Ester?
brook' I should havo laughed at him.
Then that day, when you came and
read tho manuscript I had Just given
up all hope, as I did with tho oration
on Caesar. I had been tolling for
years and years on a play. Thero
was one it had Boomed to mo like a
great plot but I had begun to realize
that labor does not moan everything.
You want Inspiration, or genlUB or art
or something, and I didn't havo it."
Enoch pnuBud, wrinkling his eyos ns
if in an attempt to remember some
thing. "I was trying to think or
something Ellon Terry wrote on tho
back of a photograph sho onco gave
mo. It ran liko this:
" 'When am I to bo an actress? Well,
after fifteen yenrs' labor, perhaps, La
bor! Why, I thought it was all Inspir
ation. No, labor and art aro the
foundation; Inspiration a result.'
"Terry wasn't altogether right. La
nor alone won't land tho prize. You've
proved that, Uoy."
"I don't know," said Merry vaguely.
"I do." Tho man's pale race ftuBhsd.
"When you dropped In on me, eager
as a young victor for a laurel wreath,
I know as surely as If a Judge had
passed sentence on me that my years
and years of toll meant nothing but
wasto paper. Then, suddenly, as tempt
ation had clutched at me twice before
in my life, camo a rovenous desire for
fame tho fame that another man had
labored for ahd "
"I understand," cried Merry. There
wbb a thrill ot compassion In his voice.
"Now, dear old man, let's forget it.
Tho one thing I can nevor forget Is
that you havo raked me from the
dopths more than once. I might have
been worso than dead today It It
hadn't been for you."
"You nover descended to the depths
I did," said Wentworth abruptly.
"Sin my variety of It or yours Is
nothing but the difference In a man's
taste. His palate dictates what he will
eat. There Is a moral palate, and if
you go on slaking your appetite,
there's a weakening of the moral tis
sue. Isn't that what your psycholo
gists call It? If it had not been for
you, Enoch, I might havo been worse
thnn dead today." Merry uttered the
last Bentenco In an undertone. "I have
a feeling, though, that I can never go
so low again, because "
He sat Bllent for a minute. Went
worth's eyes wcro fixed upon him like
an Insistent question. "Because
Enoch," ho wont on in a tsteady voice,
"becnuso Dorcas has promised to be
mylfo."
"Oh!" cried Wentworth quickly.
"01., thank God for that!" ,
CHAPTER XXVII.
Behind the Curtain.
It wob u wet night in October. A
lino of carriages moved slowly over
tho shining uBphalt to tho door of the
Gotham. Grant Oswald stood la a
corner ot tho foyer watching tho
throng pour In.
"This beats your first night In Lon
don, doesn't It?" queried a newspaper
man who stood besido him.
"Yes," acceded the Englishman.
"Tho first night or any other night."
"Weutworth's escapo from death waa
a great ad If you look at It that way.
Ho had a close call." -
"Yes." Oswald spoke absently.
That morning ho had arrived from
London. Although he was the least
curious of men, ho felt as If the peo
ple from whom ho had parted four
months ago were living in a different
atmosphere. lleforo tho ship docked
ho hnd discovered n group waiting to
wclcomo him. Dorcas wa3 there, her
beautiful face glowing with happiness.
Ho watched hor untio n gray scarf
from hor hat and wavo It. Morry
stood besido her, but tho girl's hand
was clasped Jnsldo her brother's arm.
Wentworth was wan and thin. Across
his tcmplo gleamed a wldo red scar.
Merry lifted his hat when ho caught
sight ot Oswald and tho wind tossed
down, almost into his eyes, the wavy
lock of long fair hair which proclaimed
his calling. Alice Volk stood In the
group, with Julio Jumping impatiently
besido hor. Little Robin clasped her
hand, whllo ho searched tor the ship
with hlB sightless eyes.
With a courteous "Good night" Os
wald loft tho man and walked Into the
theater, whero a gay, chattering crowd
streamed past him. The throng was
so dense that ho was pushed into a
corner. Whon the overture began ho
moved toward tho rail and took his
placo among a group of men who had
not been ablo to buy seats. He found
Singleton, of tho Times, at his elbow.
"Hullo," said tho young editor heart
ily. "I'm glad 'to seo you back and
glad you've como back to such a
houso. Why, It's ono of tho biggest I
ovor brw In Now York. You fellows
must bo raking In tho shekels, '
"It does look that way," Oswald
smiled. "I don't know how long It
will hold out Tho play 'haB already
gono far beyond my expectations."
"It ought to last through several
seasons. Generally a drama that pulls
at tho heart strings has a clutch on
tho purso strings of two public. 13e-
sides, you've a great card In your Miss
Wentworth, to say nothing of Merry.
She's out of sight. Why, I'vo run in,
heaven knows how often, Tor that
third act. I can't think of any big
actress who could get as much out
of that situation nB Dorcas Wentworth
does. There are minutes when it
doesn't seem an if tho girl wero act
ing sho lives tho character from atart
to finish."
"I bellevo you aro right." acknowl
edged Oswald. '
Uefore tho third act began tho
houso settled down to that silence
which means Intcnao anticipation.
When tho curtain fell, tho applause
rose to a deafening clamor. Ono play
er after another appeared to take an
encoro. Last of all camo Dorcas. Sho
stood on tho stage a!one, smiling and
bowing. Her face was radiantly hap
py. When tho curtain dropped, the
applauso began again. Wentworth ap
peared, leading Merry by tho hand.
Tho face of the older man looked pal-
Oswald Was Watching the Throngs
Pour In.
lid and tho red scar cut llvldly across
his forehead. A stillness foil upon
tho house. It seemed to Oswald as
if tho people waited Intently for some
unusual event.
Enoch Wentworth raised his hand
with a gesture which was strangely
dramatic for a man who was neither
an actor nor an orator. Like a flash
Oswald remembered a day when he
saf watching a prisoner at the bar.
Tho man had been condemned to
death; a moment later, with a stifled
cry of terror, he stretched out his
arm for mercy and sympathy.
"Ladles and gentlemen," Went
worth began, In a voice which was
low, but so marvolously distinct that
each syllable carried to tho farthest
seat in tho houso, "this Is not a curtain
speech you havo not called mo be
foro tho footlights tonight; it Is an
explanation. It is a confession."
Enoch paused as if mustering
strength to go through an ordeal. Ho
felt tho curious scrutiny of a thou
sand oyeB. "It is a confession," ho re
peated slowly, "a confession which has
been long delayed "
Ho never finished his sentence.
Merry stopped forward and laid his
hand upon the man's arm with a cling
ing grasp which was full of affection,
even whllo It pushed Wentworth aside.
"Allow mo." Then ho laughed.
"Good people, ono nnd all, who have
so long been friends of mine, this is
my confession, lato in tho day, as my
friend Wentworth suggests, but it is
mine. Ho was simply breaking the
nows to you that I wroto 'Tho House
of Esterbrook.' "
Ho hesitated for a moment, then
Enoch touched his arm as if In pro
test. Merry smiled and gently put
him aside. A whisper ot startled sur
prise ran through tho bouse, followed
by a moment of hush, then applauso.
It subsided slowly. During tho tu
mult men and women who kept their
oyes upon the stago aaw Wentworth
turn as If pleading vehemently. Merry
answered with a fow decisive words,
then ho stepped down to tho foot
lights. "Wo havo saved this confession,'
ladles and gentlemen," he began grave
ly, "not to croato a sensation or to
further advertise tho play, but each
ono of you must realizo how the pub
lic distrusts a Jack-or-all-trades. Many
of you doubted tho ability ot a Morry
Andrew to touch human emotion ever
bo lightly, and camo that first night
with eager curiosity to see him in the
character ot 'John Esterbrook.' How
much more would you have hesitated
if you bad known that this same Merry
Andrew waa the author ot the play?
Hence tho secret, to deceive you until
an honest verdict had been rendered.
Tonight I release my friend Enoch
Wentworth from tho role bo has car
ried for ten months. I also wish, be
foro you, to acknowledge a large In
debtedness to him. For years he has
been tho truest friend a man ever
bad. He has believed In roe, encour
aged me, and to hlB untiring labor you
are Indebted tor much of tho perfect
detail which has carried 'The House
of EaBtnbrook to success."
Tho audience saw Wentworth staro
as if In utter araazemont whon Morry
began his confession. Thon tils eyes
grow misty, and when tho young actor
turned to him with an affectionate
smile, ho gripped tho hand held out
to him as a man docs when he can
not put lovo or gratltudo Into words.
Across tho footlights mon and women
realized vaguely, through tho strange
human Insight we call intuition, that
another drama waa being played be
fore their eyeo; n life-an, yblood d,hfljr
where tho feelings of strong luou wen
deeply stirred.
"Good Lord!" said Singleton.
Oswald turned with a start nB if hi
had been aroused from sleep. The
newspaper man stood at his elbow
with a look of blank astonishment in
his eyes.
"What's back of all that7" ho asked.
"I can understand that Merry wrote
tho play, I've known Enoch Went
worth for years, and I wns noverc so
staggered In my life as tho Drat night
whon I saw 'Tho Houso of Ester
brook.' I went to tho offlco afterwards
to write my stuff and I sat for ten
minutes dumb, stupid trying to fig
ure out how Wentworth, the Enoch
Weptworth I knew, could havo writ
ten It. How long havo you known
this?"
"I have known It," answered Os
wald quietly, "Just as long as you
have."
"Then I'm right," cried Singleton.
"I know Morry was lying whon he
stood there on tho stago giving us
that bluff about Wentworth carrying
tho secret for him. Merry wrote It all
right. I might have gueBscd It long
ago. I say, do you know there's a
devil of a big story back of all that?"
Oswald's faco grew stern.
"You bco I know both of the men
bo well," went on Singleton eagerly.
"Why, thoy wero a regular David and
Jonathan pnlr ever ninco I met them
llrat. Enoch was forever setting Merry
on his pins. Tho actor would go off,
Heaven knows where, throw over a
part, and drop off the edge of tho
world. I don't bellevo he dissipated
oxactly; ho simply tossed his money
away and went downhill. Wentworth
would hunt him up nnd drag him back
whero ho belonged. Ho straightened
up suddenly whon ho began to play
John Esterbrook.' You can't even
pull him Into a poker gaino now. I
guess I took the winnings at the last
game ho stood in for. That night 1
had a great mind to hand the money
back to him. Wo said 'Good-by' about
daylight. Ho looked pessimistic and
glum. No, ho wasn't glum either;
Merry nevor gets glum. Ho bad a
down-and-out, don't-glve-a-daran ex
pression that morning. I can see him
yet Suddenly he disappeared again.
When he camo back Wentworth and
he cut each other dead. That Paget
woman affair began, then Wentworth
saved Merry's life. Why, It's a tre
mendous story!"
Oswald turned abruptly. Something
In his quiet gaze mado Singleton shift
hie eyes with a start ot guilt. "I want
to say a word to you," the English
man's voice was stern, "and I want
you to repeat what I say to every man
in your fraternity. There may be a
big story somewhere behind this I
cannot tell. If there is, it an enmity
or a misunderstanding did exiBt, It
there was a wrong done, or if anything
lies behind these two men which we
do not comprehend, leave It to them.
They havo burled it. Don't turn
ghoul," ho pleaded, "and dig It up.
simply to make a curious, heartless
world buy your paper for a day or
two. I am told thero Is a bond be
tween newspaper men, like a warm
hearted .brotherhood. Wentworth be
longed to that brotherhood; ho doos
yet remember that."
Singleton stretched out his hand
with an impulsivo gesture. "Thank
you, Mr. Oswald. You're a good deal
of a man. 1 never know you before.
Wo all need a Jog on tho elbow onco
In a while. A newspaper man grows
a buzzard when a story is In the air.
He forgets how the other fellow feels.
I'll pass tho word around. I can prom
ise you that not a man among us will
do anything but take Merry's word for
it. HIb confession Is a big Btory In
Itself,"
"Thank you," said Oswald with a
cordiality which few men had seen
in the dignified Englishman".
He stood talking with a group who
gathered about him at the close of
the play, eager as Singleton had been
to discuss Merry's dramatic confes
sion, when an usher Interrupted them.
"Mr. Oswald, you're wanted back of
the scenes," said tho boy.
Under tho whlto glare of electricity
a llttla group stood on the half-dismantled
stage. Thopcoplo in the cast
wero there property men, tho call
boy, electricians, ushers, and tho
humblest employe of tho houae. Tho
actors still wore their stago garb and
make-up. Dorcas' hand was linked in
her brother's arm. For a moment Os
wald stood watching her. Hor face
was flushed, her eyes shone, she
seemed transilgured by happiness.
Merry stretched out a welcoming
hand to Oswald. "We've been waiting
for you, Oswald, to round out our
circle," he cried gaily. "I bad a Scotch
grandmother. When she reached the
western, wilderness and built a home,
she made her husband carve over the
chimney-piece: 'We're a' slbb tae ane
anlether here.' Once, when 1 was a
little boy, she explained It to me. I
understood. Tbo English language
w.on't translate theso words, but hey
mean that there's nobody here but the
best of friends. Because we are a'
slbb tao ane anlther here tonight I
want to break a secret to you. It is
a more wonderful secret than the news
I gave to the audience."
Morry looked about him with a
quick, boyish Bmlle. "I used to Bay I
could not make a curtain speech to
save my life. Tonight I feel as If 1
wero blossoming out. I seem capable
of speeches behind tho curtain as well
ob In front. I suppose happiness makes
an orator of a man." Ho laughed Joy
ously. "But to my secret. This dear
lady, whom you nil lovo and honor,
has promised to bo my wife."
He held out his hands to Dorcas and
caught hers, then he drew her into
his arms as It thoy stood alone In
some empty co er of the world.
THB END,
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HUBBY GOT THE GOODS, BUT-
H Waa In the First Flush of the How
eymoon, and He Says
"Never Again!"
"Never 'again," was the conclusion
of a story told by a young bridegroom
of tho month, after he related his ef
forts to please his bride by fulfilling
her every wish.
Sitting In his office a few days after
the wedding he received a telephone
call which was something like this:
"Dearie, I do so hate to trouble yon,
but I havo run out of lace for that
dress I was making, and I can't finish
It until I have another yard. Can't
you atop at the store and get Bome at
you come home Oh, I can tell you
what It Is like Just four leaves, then
a sprig, then four leaves, then a sprig,
and so on It's Just two threads over
an inch wide."
He hung up the receiver and mopped
his brow. He walked by the store
twice, finally entered and approached
the lace counter. She was pretty, but
he had been married only a week and
was busy repeating in his mind:
"Four leaves, then a sprig."
"Well, after looking at 500 samples
of lace, 1 got It, but ." Indianapolis
News. i
No Aira About Her.
"Airs!" exclaimed the proud mother,
and shook her head vigorously. "My
Elsie, for all her learning, hasn't any
more airs, so to speak, than her poor
old dad."
"Then she won't turn up hor nose at
her old friends?" queried the visitor.
"La, no!"
"How refreshing! Most girls who go
through college nowadays will hardly
look qt you after th'eyre graduated."
"Well, they ain't like my Elsie, that'
all I can say," retorted Elsie's ma.
"She's become a carnivorous reader, of
course, and she frequently importune!
music. But stuck up my Elsie? Not
bit. She's unanimous to everybody,
baa a most infantile vocabulary, and,
what's more, never keeps a' caller
waiting while she dresses up. No, she
Just runs down, nom do plume, aa eht
Is."
Hot In the Superlative.
A preacher was describing the Bad
Place to a congregation of shell
backs. "Shlrfmates," he said, "you've seen
tho molten iron como running out of
tho furnnce, sizzling and hissing, like
somo kind ot snaky, horrible monster.
Woll, Bhlpmates "
Tho preacher pointed his forefinger
at tho awed pbollbacks.
"Well, shipmates," ho cald, solemn
ly, "thoy uso that stuff for Ice cream
In hell."
Missed It.
"So Jack is engaged, Is he? And la
Fanny tbo bride-to-be?"
"No. She's the tried-to-be."
It la bolleved that the River Nile
contains more kinds of fish than an
other river In the world.
To believe that a task la impossible
la to make It bo.
A M A GranuliferJ Eyelids,
9 WW TV Eyes inflamed by expo
W" w sure to Sua, Dttt and Wet.
I?fv qulcklyrelievedbyMwlM
, V Ca tyeeswy.NoSmxtiag,
4r just Eye Comfort At
Your Druggist's 50c per Bottle. MurlM Eye
SlveinTubcs2Sc.ForDsekolt!MEyeFreeaftk
Druggists or Murine Eye Remedy Co., Ckicage
University of Notre Dame
NOTRE DAUE, INDIANA
Thoroagh Education, Moral Training,
Twenty-one courses lending to degrees In
01 (mules, Modern Letters, Journalism, roll deal
tconotny, Commerce, Chemistry, lioogf
rnnrmacy, Kuiflueerlng, Architecture, Law.
Preparatory School, rartous courses.
Tor Catalogue address
IOX It. NOTnil DAUB. INDIANA
TC , BAVE BOO RICH MONTANA rARMS
AlltUes.UoodnisrkeU,wsMr,trsupurtaU(inAubuols.
isurotias. Very low priest, ess? unns. Jlliuirsuisl
ioouscalrse. iflflrsssBiiMsBisis si fli.. !. l
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