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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (May 3, 1908)
5 BEING- A RECITAL OF HOW HE ACQUIRED A SUBURBAN VILLA, AND GOT AC QUAINTED WITH -THE MAJOR. BY JEWELL EORD THE SUNDAY OREGONIAN, PORTLAND, MAT 3. 1908. MM MM V MB MM M M M M II M M MM M M M M M M 1 M M MM J-M (Copyright by Associate Sunday Maga zine., inc.) SAY. If you Know how to take things, there's a whole lot of fun In Just bein' alive; ain't there? Now look at the buffo combination I've been up against lately. First off I meets Jarvls you know, Mr. Jarvls, of Blenmont, who's billed to marry that English girl Lady Eve lyn next month. Well, Jarvls he was all worked up. Oh, you couldn't guess It In a week. It was an awful thing that happened to him. Just as he's got his trunk parked for England, where the knot-tyin' is to take place, ho gets word that some old lady that was second cousin to his mother, or something like that, has gone and died and left him all her property. "Real thoughtless of her, wa'n't it?" says I." "Well," says Jarvls, lookln' kind of foolish, "I expect she meant well enough. I don't mind the bonds, and that sort of thing, but there's this Nightingale Cottage. Now, what am I to do with that?" "Raise nightingales for the trade," says J. Jarvls ain't one of the joshln' kind, though, same as Pinckney. He had this weddln' business on his mind, and there wa'n't much room for anything else. Seems the old lady who'd quit llvln' was a relative he didn't know much about. "I remember seeing her only onre." says Jarvls. "and then I was a little chap. Perhaps that's why I was such a favorite of hers. She always sent me a prayer-book every Christmas." "Must have thought you was hard on prayer-books." says -I. "She wa'n't batty, was she?" Jarvls wouldn't say that; but he didn't deny that there might have been a few cobwebs in the belfry. Aunt Amelia that's what he called her had lived by herself for so long, and had coaxed up such a case of nerves, that there was no tellin'. The family didn't even know she was abroad until they heard she'd died there." "You see." says Jarvls, "the deuce of it Is the cottage is just as she stepped out of it. full of a lot of old truck that I've cither got to sell or burn, I suppose. And It's a beastly nui sance." "It's a shame." says I. "But where is his Nightingale Cottage?" "Why, It's In Primrose Park, up In Westchester County." says he. With that I pricks up my ears. You know I've heen puttln' my extra-long green In pickle for the last few years, layln' for a chance to place 'em where I could turn 'em over some day and count both sides. And Westchester sounded right. "Say," says I, leadin' him over to the telephone booth, "you sit down there and ring up some real estate guy out In Prim rose Park and get a bid for that place. It'll be about half or two-thirds what It's worth. I'll give you that, and 10 per cent more on account of the fixln's. Is it a go?" I Was tt? Mr. Jarvis had central and was callin' up Primrose Park before I gets through, and inside of an hour I'm a taxpayer. I've made big lumps of money qulcker'n that, but I never spent such a chunk of It so swift before. But Jarvls went off with his mind easy, and I was satisfied. In the evenin' I dropped around to see the Whaleys. "Dennis, you low-county bog-trotter," says T, "about all I've heard out of you since I was knee high was how you was achin' to quit the elevator and get back to diggin' dirt and. cuttin' grass, same's you used to do on the old sod. Now here's a chance to make good." . Well, say, that was the only time I ever talked ten minutes with Dennis Whaley without beln' blackguarded. He'd been fired off the elevator the week be fore and had been job-huntin' ever since. As for Mother Whaley, when she saw a chance to shake three rooms back and a fire-escape for a place where the trees has leaves on 'em, she up and. cried Into t.he corned beef and cabbage. Just for joy. "I'll send the keys up In the morning," says I. "Then you two pack up and go out there to Nightingale Cottage and open her up. If It's fit to live in, and you don't die of Ionesomeness, maybe I'll run up once In a while of a Sunday to look you over." You see, I thought It would be a bright THE HOTEL CLERK ON "i T'S BEEN a quiet week in the realm of fistiana, hasn't it?" said the Hotel Clerk of the St. Reckless, as he laid down his paper. "I've looked through the sporting page and the Wash ington dispatches both, and there's no mention of Jeff having landed somebody a neat wallop or being handed one of the same by somebody." "I thought Jeff was out of the fight game for good," said the House Detective,, "llvln' out there on his little combination farm-ahd-cafy In California, raisin' al falfa and Scotch highballs." "I gather that you mean the former piwrllist." said the Hotel Clerk. "I was speaking of a present notable figure in the sport world, not a mere past per former. " "But you said Jeff," insisted the House Detective. "So I did." answered the Hotel Clerk, "meaning by that the Hon. Jefferson Da vis, of Arkansas. I called him Jeff be cause that's the name he familiarly goes by among the great common people whom he so ably represents In the United States Senate." "Who says he represents the great com mon people?" demanded the House De tective. "He does himself," said the Hotel Clerk. "And I guess he's right. They're the great common people, and they must be dad-blamed common or they Wouldn't stand for Jeff representing them. But he's there with the punch." "I didn't know he was a scrapper," said the House Detective. "Who did he ever lick?" "He never licked anybody," said the Htoel Clork, "but ' he's been licked by nearly everybody of importance In his own voting precinct, city, county. Con gressional district, state and parallel of latitude. He's become a Kreat warrior, the same way William of Orange and I Inn. ii.l CVinnolW H I A hv a tiai-laa t masterly defeats. "The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the sovereign Commonwealth of Arkansas drops Into the office of the leading physician of Little Rock to have his bruises dressed.' 'What alls you?' says the doctor, as he reaches for the arnica salve. 'You look as If you'd been struck by some round, dull, blunt instrument." 'The junior Senator from this state just butted me with his bead,' says the Chief' Justice. 'Ah!' JZ&ZyH i) Til K iSStfH M IK J I'D LANDED HIM IN scheme to hang onto the place for a year or so, before I tries to unload. That gives the Whaleys what they've been wishin' for, and me a chance to do the week-end act now and then. Course, I wa'n't look In' for no complications. But they come along, all right. It was on a Saturday afternoon that I took the plunge. You know how quick this little old town can warm up when she starts. We'd had the studio fans goin' all the mornin'. and the first shirt waist lads was paradin' across Forty-second street with their , coats off, and Swifty'd made tracks for Coney Island, when I remembers Primrose Park. I'd passed through in expresses often .enough; so I didn't have to look It up on tne map; Dut mat was aoout au. vvnen I'd spoiled the best part of an houn on a local full of commuters and low-cut high brows, who killed time playin' whist and cussln" the road, I was dumped down at a cute little station about big enough for a lemonade stand. As the cars went off I drew in a long breath. Say, I'd got off Just In time to escape bein' carried into Connecticut. I jumps Into a canopy-fop surrey that looks like It had been stored in an open lot all Winter, and asks the driver If he knows where Nightingale Cottase is. "Sure thing!" - says, he. "That's the place Shorty McCabe's bought." ; I "Do tell!", says I. "Well, cart me out to the front gate and put me off." It was a nice ride. If It had been a mile longer I'd had facts enough for a town history. Drivin' a depot carriage was just a side Issue with that Primrose blossom. Conversln' was his long suit He tore off Information by the yard, and slung It over the seat-back at me like one of these megaphone lecturers on the rubber-neck wagons. Accordln' to him. Aunt 'Melle had been a good deal of a she-hermit. "Why," says he. "Major Curtis Binger told me himself that In the five years he lived neighbors to her he hadn't seen her more'n once or twice. They say she hadn't been out of her yard for ten years up to the time she went abroad for her health and died of it." i "Anyone that could live in this town that long and' not die, couldn't have tried very hard," says I. "Who's this Major Binger?" "Oh, he's a retired army officer, the major is; widower, with two daughters,' says I. "Singletons?" says I. "Yep, and likely to stay so," says he. About then he turns In between a couple of fancy stone gate-posts, twists Bays the doctor, 'that confirms my diag nosis. And where is the esteemed Sen ator now?' " 'You should see him," says the Chief Justice, blowing on his knuckles. 'He's got an eye that looks like an ear, and his nose would put you in mind of a German pancake with currant jelly. We had a few words down the street touch ing, on one of my late decisions, and A PORCH ROCKER. around a cracked bluestone drive, and lands me at the front steps of Nightin gale Cottage. For the kind, it wa'n't so bad one of those squatty bay-windowed affairs, with a roof like a toboggan chute, a porch that did almost a whole lap around otitside, and a cobblestone chimney that had vines growin' clear to the top. And sure enough, there was Dennis Whaley with his rake, comin' as near a grin as he knew how. - Well, he has me in tow In about a min ute, and I makes a personally conducted tour of me e-stato. Say, all I thought I was gettin' was a couple of bulldln' lots; but I'll be staggered If there wa'n't a slice of ground most as big as Madison Square Park, with trees, and shrubbery, and posy beds, and dinky little paths loopin' the loop all around. ' Out back was a stable and goosb'ry-bushes and a truck garden. ....... "How's thim for cabbages?" says Den nis. . "They look more like boutonnlers," says I. But he goes on to tell as how they'd just been" set out and wouldn't he life-size till Fall. Then he shows me rows that he says was goin' to be praties and beans and so on, and he's as proud of the whole shootin' -match as if he'd done a miracle, When we gat around to the front again, where Dennis has laid out a pansy harp, I sees a little gatherin' over in front of the cottage next door. There was three or four gents, and six or eight -womenfolks. They was : lookin' my way, and talkln' all to once. "Hello!" says I. "The neighbors seem to be holdin' a convention. Wonder if they're, plannin' to count me in?" I hain't more'n got that out before one of the bunch cuts loose and heads for me. He was a nlce-looktn' old duck, with a pair of white Chaunceys and a frosted chin-splitten ' He stepped out brisk, and swung his cane like he was on parade. He was got up In white flan nels and i a square-topped Panama, and he had the complexion of a good liver. "I expect that this is Mr. McCabe," says he. ' "You're a good guesser," says I. "Come up on the front stoop and sit by." "My name," says he, "Is Binger, Curtis Binger." "What, Major Binger, late U. S. A.?" says I. "The man that did the stunt at the battle of What-d'ye-call-It?" "Mission Bidge, sir," says he, throwln' out his chest. "Sure!. That was the placej' says I. "Well, well! Who'd think it? I'm proud to know you. Put 'er there." I sent him home in two hacks and an express wagon. Do you remember the walking-cane that the Legislature of our grand old commonwealth once voted him the on with the gold head?" asks the Chief Justice. 'Yes,' says the doctor, "what of It?' "Nothing.' says the Chief Justice, 'only I borrowed it from him In the heat of the argu ment, and now it bas trimmings of real With that I had him goin'. He was up 1 In the air, and before he'd got over It I'd landed him In a porch rocker and chased Dennis in to dig a box of Fumadoras out of my suitcase. "Ahem," says the Major, clearln' his speech tubes, "I came over, Mr. McCabe, on rather a delicate errand." "If you're out of butter, or want to touch me for a drawin' of tea, speak right up, Major," says I. "The pantry's yours." "Thank you," says he; "but it' nothing like that, nothing at all, sir. I came over as the representative of several citizens of Primrose Park, to inquire It It is your intention to reside here." "Oh!" says I. "You want to know if I'll Join the gang? Well, seein' as you've put it up to me so urgent, I don't care If I do. Course, I can't sign as a reg"lar, this bein' my first jab at the simple life; but if you can stand for the punk per formance I'll make at progressive euchre and croquet, you can put me on the Sat urday night subllst, for awhile, anyway." Now say, I was layln' out to do the neighborly for the best that was In me; but it seemed to hit the Major wrong. He turned about two shades pinker, coughed once or twice, and then got a fresh hold. "I'm afraid you fall to grasp the situation, Mr. McCabe," says he. "You see, we lead a 'ery quiet life here In Primrose Park, a very domestic life. As for myself, I have two daughters " "Chic, chic, Major!" says I, pokin' him gentle in the ribs with me thumb. "Don't you try to sick any girls on me, or I'll take to the tall timber. I'm no lady's man. not a little bit." Then the explosion came. For a minute I thought one -of them Frisco ague spells had come Bast. The Major turns plum color, blows up his cheeks, and bugs his eyes out. When the language flows It was like turnin' on a fire-pressure hy drant. An assistant district attorney summin' up for the state in a murder trial didn't have a look-in with the Major. What did I mean me, a rough house scrapper ffom the red-light sec tionby buttin' into a peaceful commu nity and lnsultin the oldest Inhabitant? Didn't I have .no sense of decency? Did I suppose respectable people were goin' to stand for such? Honest, that was the worst jolt I ever had. All I could do was to sit there with my mouth ajar, and watch him prancin" up and down, handin me the layout. "Say," says I, after a bit, "you ain't got me mixed up with Mock Duck, or Paddy the Gouge, or Kangaroo Mike, or any of that crowd, have you?" . "You're known as Shorty McCabe, aren't you?" says he. "Guilty," says I. . "Then there's no mistake." says he. "What will you take, cash down, for this property, and clear out now?" "Say, Major," says I, "do you think it would, blight the buds or poison the air much if I hung on till Monday morning? That is, unless you've got the tar all hot and the rail ready?" That fetched a grunt out of him. "All we desire to do, sir," says he, "is to maintain the respectability of the neigh borhood." "Do the other folks over there feel the same way about me?"., says I. . "Naturally," says he. "Well." says I, "I don't mind tellin' you, Major, that you've thrown the hooks Into me good an' plenty, and .lt looks like I'd have to make a new "book. I didn't come out here to break up any peaceful community; but befor I . changes my programme I'll have to sleep on it. Sup pose you slide over again, sometime to morrow, when your collar don't fit bo tight, and then we'll see if there's any thing to arbitrate." . c "Very well," says he, does a salute to the colors, and marches back stiff-kneed to tell his crowd how he'd read the riot act to me. : Now say, I ain't one of the kind to lose sleep because the conductor speaks rough when I asks for a transfer. I generally takes what's comin' and grins. But this time I wa'n't half so joyful as I might have been. . Even the sight 'Of Mother Whaley's hot biscuits, and hearln' her slngin" "Cushla Mavourneen" in the kitchen, couldn't chirk me up. I'd been keen for lookin' the house over and seein' what I'd got In the grab; but it was all off. Course, I knew I had the rights of the thing. I'd put down me good money, and there Wa'n't any rules that could make me pull It out. But I've lived quite some, years without shovin' in where I knew I'd get the frigid countenance, and I didn't like the idea of beginnln' now. COWeRESSION BY IRV1M S. COBB " human sandy hair-on it." 'Did you give It back to him?' Inquired the doctor. 'Yes, indeed,' says the Chief Justice, 'I give It back to him so many times that my right arm is all tired out.' "So it goes, Jerry. It's only been a few weeks back that Senator Davis . met with a leading peace officer, a District Attorney, I think it was. on a prominent corner of his prosperous GIVIN' ME THE OLD-COLLEGE-CHUM SHOULDER-PAT. I couldn't go back on my record, either, i In my time I've stood up in the ring and put out my man for two-thirds of the gate receipts. I ain't so proud of that now as I was once; but I ain't never had any call to be ashamed of the day I done it. What's more, no soubrette ever had a chance to call herself Mrs. Shorty Mc Cabe, and I never let 'em put my name over the door of any Broadway Jag par lor. ' ' You got to let every man frame up his own argument, though. If these Primrose Parkers had listed me for a tough citizen that had come out to smash crockery and keep the town constable busy, it wasn't my cue to hold any- debate. All the campaign I could figure out was to back into the wings and sell to some well-behaved stock-broker or life-insurance grafter. It was goin to be tough on the Wha leys, though. I didn't let on to Dennis, and after supper we sat on the back steps, while he smoked his cutty and gassed away about the things he was goin' to raise,- and. how the flower-beds would look in a month or. so. About 9 o'clock he shows me a place where I can turn In, and I listens to the roosters crowln' most of the night. Next mornin' I had Dennis get me a Sunday paper, and after I'd read the sportln' notes I " turns td ' the suburban real-estate ads. "Why not own a home?" most of 'em asks.. "I knew tho answer to that," says I. "And. say, a Luna Park Zulu that had strayed Into, young Rock efeller's Bible class would have felt about as much- at home as I "did there on my own porch. The old Major was over on his porch, walkln" up and down like he was doih' guard duty, and once in awhile I could see some of the women-folks takln' a careful squint at-me from behind a window blind. If I'm ever quarantined, It. won't be any new sensation. I It wasn't exactly a weddin'-breakfast kind of a time I was havln'; but I didn't dodge It. I was Just lettin' it soak in. "for the good of me soul," as Father Connolly used to say; when I sees a pair of overfed blacks, hitched to a closed car riage, switch in from the pike and make for the .Major's. "Company, for dinner," says I- "That's nice." I didn't get anything but a back view as he climbed out on the off side and was led In by the Majori but you couldn't fool me on them short-legged, baggy-kneed pants, or that black griddle-cake bonnet. szwxraiz rjzzxaw'-f jvoTac2 and bustling home city. Well, remarks was passed back and forth. Nothing really violent, you understand, but just a general interchange of opinions re garding the issues of the spirited cam paign which they were having In Arkansas at that time, and always are. The District Attorney merely said that In his humble opinion, the Senator was more different kinds of a liar than a . If I i t i 1 It was my little old Bishop, that I keeps the fat off from with the mediulne-ball work. "Lucky he didn't see me," says I, "or he'd hollered out and queered himself with the whole of Primrose Park. I was figurln' on fadln' away to the other side of the house before he showed up again; but I didn't hurry about It, and when I looks up again there was the Bishop, with them fat little fingers of his stuck out. and a three-inch grin on his face, plkln' across the road right for me. He'd come out to wig-wag his driver, and, gettin' his eyes on me, he waddles right over. I tried to give him the wink and shoo him off, but it was no go. "Why, my dear professor!" says he, walkln' up and glvin' me the old-college-cluim shoulder-pat with the other. I squints across the way, and there was the Major and ' the girls, catchin' their breath and takin' It all In, so I sees It's no use throwin' a bluff. "How's the Bishop?" says I. "You've made a bad break; but I guess it's a bit too late to hedge." He only chuckles, like he always does. "Your figures of speech, professor, are too subtle for met as usual. However, I suppose you are as glad to see me as I am to find you." "Just .what I was meanin' to spring next," says I, pullln' up a rocker for him. We chins awhile there, and the Bishop tells me how he's been out to lay a cor nerstone, and thought he'd drop in on his old friend. Major Binger. "Well, well, what a" charming place you have here!" says he. "You must take me all over it, professor. I want to see if you've shown as good taste on the inside as you apparently have on the out." And before I has time to say a word about Jarvls' Aunt 'Melle, he has me by the arm and we're headed for the parlor. I hadn't even opened the door before, but we blazes right in. runs up the shades, throws open the shutters, and stands by for a look. Say, It was worth it! That was the most ladyfled room I ever put me foot in. First place, I never see so many crazy lookln' little chaps, or bow-legged tables, or fancy tea-cups before in my life. There wa'n't a thing you could sit on without havln" to call the upholstery man in aft erward. Even the gilt sofa looked like it ought to have been In a picture. But what had me- button-eyed was the wall decorations. If I hadn't been ridin' c?sx&7 zv u?L.&aze, seed catalogue; and the Senator stated It as a well-known fact that the Dis trict Attorney was so crooked he had to live on prezels. So after that the con versation began to verge on the per sonal, and that same afternoon the Senator was having a couple of Inches of loose scalp stitched back. "But in a couple of days he was tip and about, and out and around with a on the sprinkler for so long I'd thought It was time for me to hunt a D. T. Insti tute right then. First off I couldn't make 'em out at all; but after the shock wore away I see they were dolls, dozenB of 'em, hangin' all over the walls in rows and clusters, like hams in a pork shop. And, say, that was the woozlcst collec tion ever bunched together! They wa'n't ordinary Christmas-tree dolls, the store kind. Every last one of 'em was home made, white cotton heads, with hand painted faces. Course, I tumbled. This was some of that half-batty Aunt 'Melle's work. This was what she'd put in her time on. And she sure had produced. For face patntin' it was well done, I guess, only she must have been shut up bo long away from folks that she'd sort of forgot Just how they looked. Some of the heads had sunbonnets on. and some nightcaps; but they were all the same shape, like a hardshell clam, flat side t. The eyes were painted about twice life slzc some rolled up, some canted down, some squintin' sideways, and a lot was Just cross-eyes. There was green eyes, yellow eyes, pink eyes, and the regular kinds. They gave me the creeps. When I turns around, the Bishop stands there with his mouth open. "Why," says he "why, professor!" That was as far as he could get. He gasps once or twice and gets out something that sounds like "Remarkable, truly remarkable!" "That's 'the word," says I. "I'll bet there ain't another lot like this in the country." "I I hope not," says he. "No offense meant, though. Do you er do this sort 'of thing yourself?" Well. I had to loosen up then. I told him about Aunt 'Melie, and how I'd bought the place unsight and unseen. And when he finds this was my first view of the parlor it gets him in the short ribs. He has a funny fit. Rvery time he takes a look at them dolls he has another spasm. . I gets him out on the porch again, and he sits there slap pin' his knees and waggln' his head and wipln' his eyes. By-'m'-by the Bishop calms down and says I've done him more good than a trip to Europe. "You must let me bring Major Binger over," says he. "I want him to see those dolls. You two ara bound to be great cronies." "I've got my doubts about that," says I. "But don't you go to mlxln' up in this affair. Bishop. I don't want to lug you In for any trouble with any of your old friends." You couldn't stave the Bishop off, though. He had to hear the whole yarn, and the minute he gets It straight he jumps up. "Blnger's a hot-headed old Weill" says he. catchin' himself just In time, "the Major has a way of acting first, and then thinking it over. I must have a talk with him." I guess he did, too; for they were all at It some time before the Bishop waves by-by to me and drives off. I'd Just got up from one of Mrs. Wha ley's best chicken dinners, when I hears a hurrah outside, and horses stampin" and a horn tootin. I rushes out front, and there was Pinckney, slttin' up on a coach box, just pullln' his leaders out of Dennis' pansy bed. There was about a dozen of his crowd on top of the coach, lncludin' Mrs. Dlpworthy Sadie Sullivan that was and Mrs. Twombley Crane,, and a lot more. "Hello, Shorty!" says Pinckney. " 'Is the doll exhibition still open? If it is, wo want to come in." They met the Bishop; see? And he'd steered 'em along. Well say, I might have begun the day kind of lonesome, but it had a lively fin ish, all rtfiht. Inside of ten minutes Sa die has on one of Mother Whaley's whlto aprons and Is takin' charge. She has some of them fancy tables and chairs lugged out on the porch, and the first thing I knows I'm holdin' forth at a pink tea that's the swellrst thing of the kind Primrose Park ever got its eyes on. No, Nightingale Cottage ain't in the market, and it looks like I'd got a steady Job lntroducln' Aunt 'Melle's doll collec tion to society; for Pinckney carts down a new gang every Sunday. I had my or ders that the dolls were to be kept just as Aunt 'Melle left 'em. As Sadie's gen erally on hand to help out, I'm ready to stand for It. Anyways, I've bought a fam'ly ticket and laid in a stock of fancy groceries. The Maje? Oh. him and me made it up handsome. He comes over and tells mo about that Mission Ridge stunt of his every Saturday night reg'lar. card to the public saying the foes ot liberty had been foiled in their efforts to destroy the champion of the masses. He's been licked at all the other weights, but he's the mass champion still. He's strong for what you might call tho mass play. And he said In the card that he was still able to strike one more fierce blow for the cause of tho lowly. And he Is. When It comes to fierce blows, he's one of the fiercest blowers you'll find anywhere. "But Jeff Is all right. Larry he's all right, at that. He's Just suited to fit Into the picture of our National Legis lature as she's at present constituted. I never could understand why they sup. press fighting here In New York and al low Congress to stay In session all Win ter in Washington. They're the devil-may-care rioters, all right, those Con gressmen. I don't mean the New Eng land members. They're docile In the ex treme. You couldn't imagine Henry Ca bot Lodge denting a fellow-Senator's brow with a large Ironstone china cuspi dor as a mark ot seeming displeasure during debate. He might get his ascot mussed. The worst you can conceive of Henry Cabot Lodge doing. If greatly aroused, would be to snatch the sweat band out of somebody's hat and dash it at his feet. It's those hot-blooded South ern members you have to be watching all the time. They're the boys that lov a scrap like a coon comedian loves a gold tooth. Only they don't scrap the way their predecessors did In the days when a statesman wore his evening clothes all day. I always think of Henry Clay as a party who stood up and talked pieces suitable for the Sixth Reader, with one hand under his swallow-tails and th other clutching a rolled-up graduation es say, and then went out the next morn ing before breakfast to some quiet grovs where the weeping willows softly sobbed, and shot the broadcloth polanaises off o John C. Calhoun with an implement that looked something like a stomach pump. "But it's different these times. Sena tor Tillman's hot blood comes to a boil or an eczema, or whatever it is Senator Tillman's blood comes to when he's irri tated, and he takes his colleague from South Carolina firmly by the goozle and chokes him until his windpipe sticks out at the back of his neck like open plumb ing. Senator Bailey, of Texas, takes ex ception to the way Senator Beveridge, of Indiana's, Adam's apple fits him. and (Concluded on Page 7.)