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.)