The Sunday Oregonian., October 18, 1908, Magazine Section, Page 9, Image 53

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' THE STODAY OREGOXIAy, rORTLAM), OCTOBER 13, 1903.
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MR,. DOB5W, THB BISHOP, JEf,?fSJSErMC2ABB' A
nnwbjy MAKE UP A
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SAT. there's no tellin Is there!
Sometimes the quietest runnin
bubbles blow up with the biggest
bang. Now look t Ferdy. He was as
retlrln" and modest as a new lodge
member at his first mectin'. Why, he's
o anxious to dodge matin' a show of
himself that when he comes here for
a private course I has to lock the stu
dio door and post Swlfty Joe on the
outside to see that nobody butts In.
All the Dobsons Is that way. They're
the kind of folks that lives on Fifth
ave., with the front shades always
pulled down, and they shy at gettln
their names in the papers like it wa
beln' served with a summons.
Course, they did have their dose of
free advertistn" once, when that Tootsy
Peroxide bobbed up and tried to break
old Peter Dobsons will: but that case
happened so long ago. and there's been
so many like It since that hardly any
body but the Dobsons remembers it.
Must have been a good deal of a Jolt
at the time, though; for as far as I've
seen they're nice folks, and the real
thing in the fat wad line; specially
Ferdy. He's that genteel and refined
he has to have pearl gray boxln' gloves
to match his gym suit.
Well. I wa'n't thinkin" any of him.
or his set havin' just had a session
with a brewer's son that I've took on
durln' tli dull season, when I looks
r out Into the front office and sees my
' little old bishop standin' there mop
pin his face.
"Hello. Bishop!" T sings out.
Thought you was in Newport, herdln'
the flock."
-So I was. Shorty." says he. "until
six hours ago. I came down to look
for a stray lamb."
"Tried Wall street?" says I.
"lie's not that kind of a lamb." says
the Bishop. "It Is Ferdinand Dobson.
Have vou seen him recently?"
"What. Ferdy?" says I. "Not for
weeks. They're all up at their Inox
place, ain't they?"
No. tliey wa'n't. And then the Bishop
puts me next to a little news item that
hadn't got into the society column yet.
Ferdy. after gettln' to be most twenty
five, has been hooked. The girl's name
was Alicia, an' soon's I heard It I
placed her havin' seen her a few times
at different swell ranches where I've
been knockln around in the back
ground. As I remembers her. she has
" one of these long, high-toned faces,
and a shape to match not what you'd
rail a neck-twister, but something
real classy and hgli-browed. Just the
sort you'd look for Ferdy to tag.
Seems they'd been doln' the lovey
dovey for more'n a year; but all on
the sly. meetln' each other at afternoon
teas, and now and then havin' a ten
minute liand-holdin match under a
palm somewhere. They was so cute
about It that even their folks didn't
suspect It was a rase of honey and
honey boy; not that anyone would have
raised a kick, but because Ferdy don't
want any fuss made about It.
When Alicia's mother gets the facts,
- ttfough. she writes a new programme.
She don't stand for sprlngln" any quiet
weddin's on her set. Sfle plans a big
party, where the engagement bulletin
Is to be flashed on the screen reg'lar
ind proper, so's folks can be orderln
th"lr dresses and weddln' presents.
Ferdy balks some at the thought of
bein' dragged to the center of the
stage: but he grits his teeth and tells
em that for this once they can go as
far as they like. Ho even agrees to
leave home for a week and mix It at a
big house party. Just to get himself
broke in to nieetin' strangers.
L'p to within two days of the en
gagement stunt he was behavln lovely;
and the next thing they knows. Just
when he should be gettln ready to
BY JIM NASIL'M.
HERE'S nothing to It," said the
Old Sport, as he walked off the
field after witnessing the scrub
and the varsity In a practical lineup,
"those kids on the scrub are the real
heroes of football. These varsity stars may
be hanging up honors for their college,
but It's a pretty bum brand of a human
being who won't play his head off and
take chances on getting his aesophagus
mixed up with his liver when a mob of
ten thousand have their lamps trimmed on
his efforts and the cheering squad "are
busting their thoraxes yelling his name,
when the college poets compose National
anthems eulogizing Ms feats and the facul
ty sets aside an appropriation to have
his portrait splattered through the knowl
edge factory and the" entire universe starts
an epidemic of vocal paralysis from
handing Mm the glad gab every time he
hits the public thoroughfare.
"But let me tell you that these guys
on the scrub, the dubs who are used for
a door mat and kicked into the hospital
by the big guns on the varsity, who are
copping all the honors, are the keroes
who have your dad doffing his lid. They
are the soldiers who are stood up to be
hot to smithereens, the trial horsea
who get their gambrel Joint Jammed Into
their medulla oblongata In order to show
up the punk spots in the big team, and
they never get so much as a line in the
sporting notes of the War Cry. Neither
the great throbbing world of sport nor
the mush-headed world of society knows
who in thunder he Is when they read
his death notice. The only place this
poor guy ever sees his name in print is
on the hospital records, and it gets there
so blamed often that the printers soon
et to leaving the type stand. He tl
the martyr w-ho gets thumped Into a
pulp and ground into mincemeat for an
other's glory.
"There's that freshy who has Just bat
tered himself Into the hospital smash
ing up the varsity's Interference and
showing up the punk spots in their sys
tem of running ends. That kid has done
more for the success of the team than
any star In tbe varsity lineup will pile I
up all season, yet I'll gamble that out-
Me of his roommate and the coaches
you won't find a Baker's dozen In this old
dump of knowledge factory who even
know his name, while the lucky guy
who blunders onto a fumble in the big
game of the season and goes over for the
winning touchdown will become a Na
tional hero and have a dozen brands of
cigars named after him."
"That's all right. Dad," replied the
show nn at Newoort. he can't be found.
It has all the looks of leavln' his
clothes on the bank and Jumpin the
night freight. Course, the Dobsons
ain't sayin' a word to Alicia's folks yet.
They gets their friends together to or
ganize a still hunt for Ferdy: and the
Bishop bein" one of the Inside circle,
he's sent out as head scout.
"And I'm at my wits end," says he.
"No one has seen him In Newport,
and I can't find him at any of his clubs
here."
"How about the Fifth-ave. mauso
leum?" says I.
'His man is there." says the Bishop:
"but he seems unable to give me any
information."
Does he?" says I. "Well, you take
it from me that if anyone's got a line
on Ferdy. It's that clam-faced Kupps
of his. He's been trained so fine in the
silence business that he hardly dares
Hello, Sweety I Peekaboo, Deary!"
open his mouth when he eats. Go up
ther and put him through tho wringer."
"Do what?" says the Bishop.
"Give him the headquarters quiz."'
says I. "Tell him you come straight
from mother and sisters, and that
Ferdy's got to be found."
"I hardly feel equal to doing Just
that." says the Bishop in his mild
way. "Now If you could only "
"Why, sure!" says L lt d do me good
to take a whirl out of that English
man. I'll make him give up."
He's a bird though, that Kupps. I
hadn't talked with him two minutes
before I would have bet my pile he
knew all about where Ferdy was roost
In", and what be was up to; but when
It come to draggln' out the details, you
might Just as well have been tryln' to
pry up a pavln' stone with a fountain
pen. Was Ferdy In town, or out of
town, and when would he be back?
Kupps couldn't say. He wouln't even
tell how long It was since he had seen
Ferdy last. And say. you know how
plg-headcd one of them hen-brained
Cockneys can be? I feels my collar
gettln' tight.
"lAok here. Hiccups!" says L "Tou "
"Kupps, sir," says he. "Thomas
Kupps Is my full nyme. sir."
"Well. Teacups, then If that suits
you better." says I. "You don't seem to
have got It into your head that the
Bishop ain't Just buttin' In here for
the fun of the thing. This matter of
retrlevin Ferdy is serious. Now, you're
sure he didn't leave any private mes
sages, or notes, or anything of that
kind?"
coacli- "but you know, after all. it's re
sults that make heroes in this world.
The defeated general is frequently more
heroic In defeat than the victorious com
mander Is In victory: but the one who
gets the results Is the hero, while the
other is a dub. When it comes right
down to cases It Isn't heroism that makes
heroes. It's results."
"Now, you've got the right dope all
right," said the Old Sport, "but you
said it wrong. It is heroism that makes
heroes, but It's results that crowns them.
This old Ignorant dump of a world Ukes
to honor a winner and they make a hero
out of the lucky winner and a dub out of
the heroic loser. And when It comes
right down to cases it takes a blamed
sight more heroism to be a game loser
than It does to be an able winner.
There isn't enough sporting spirit splat
tered over this terrestrial "Sail.
"And another thing, you can take tt
from me that there are a thundering lot
of dubs loafing around In the public eye
ir a laurel wreath, while a whole blamed
lot of real heroes have to plug along an
obscure trail In a common every-day bat.
Whenever I see the public getting up on
THE RDTnAH!f CfmTt'i'XtJ , - 3 ti?ini?no5wH . I FiFl
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VtvtiY JLin
. "Nothink of the sort, .ir; nothlnk
Nothlnk of the sort.
whatever." says Kupps.
"Well, you Just show us up to his
rooms," says I, "and we'll look around
for ourselves. Eh, Bishop."
"Perhaps It would be the best thing
to do." says tho Bishop. '
Kupps didn't want to do it; but I
gives him a look that changes his mind
and up we goes. I was thinkin' that if
Ferdy had got chilly feet at the last
minute and done the deep dive, maybe
he'd left a few lines layin' around his
desk. There wa'n't anything In sight,
though; nothln' but a big photograph
of a wide, full-chested lady, propped up
against the rail. -
"That don't look much like the fair
Alicia," says I.
The Bishop puts on his nigh-to
glasses and says it ain't. He thinks
it must have been took of a lady that
he'd seen Ferdy chinnin' at the house
party, where he got his last glimpse of
him.
"Good deal of a hummln' bird, she Is.
eh?" says I. pickin' it up. "Tutty-tut!
Dook what's here!" Behind it was a
photo of Alicia,
"And here's something else." says
I. On the back of the big picture was
scribbled, "From Ducky to Ferdy," and
the date.
"Yesterday!" gasps the Bishop.
"Well, well!" says I. "That's ad
vancin' the spark some! If he meets
her only a .week or so ago. and by yes
terday she's got so far as bein" his
ducky. It looks like Alicia'd have to
get out and take the car ahead."
The Bishop acts stunned. gazin'
from me to the picture, as if he'd been
handed one on the dizzy bone. "You
you don't mean." says he, "that you
suspect Ferdy of of "
"I hate to think it." says T: "but this
looks like a quick shift. Kupps, who's
Ferdy's lady friend?"
"Mr. Dobson didn't sye. sir," says
Kupps.
"Verv thoughtless of him." says I.
"Come "on. Bishop, we'll take this along
as a clew and see what Vandy has to
say."
He's a human , kodak. Vandy is
makes a llvln' takin' pictures for the
newspapers..- Tou can't break Into the
swell push, or have an argument with
Teddy, or be tried for murder, without
Vandy's showin' up to make a few
negatives. So I flashes the photo of
Ducky on him.
"Who's the wide one?" says I.
"Why. don't you know who that la.
Shorty?" says he.
"Say, do you think I'd be chasin' up
any flash-light pirate like you if I
did?" says I. "What's her name?'
"That's Madam Brooklini, of course,"
says he.
"What, the thousand-dollar-a-mlnute
warbler?" says I. "And me seein' her
lithographs all last Winter! Gee, Bish
op! I thought you folowed grand opera
closer than that."
"I should haverecalled her," says the
Bishop; "but l"see so many faces "
"Only a few like that, though," says
I. "Vandy. where do you reckon Mrs.
Greater New York could be located
just about now?"
Vandy has the whole story down pat.
Seems she's been over here out of sea
son bringln' suit against her last man
ager but harln' held him up for every
thing but the gold fillin in his front
teeth, she is booked to sail back to her
Irish castle at four In the mornin". He
knows the steamer and the pier num
ber. "Four A- M.. eh?" says I. "That
means she's likely to be aboard now.
gettln settled. Bishop, if that Ducky
business was a straight steer, it's1 ten
to one that a friend of ours is there
sayln' good by. Shall we follow It up?"
"I can hardly credit it," says he.
"However, If you think "
"It's no cinch." says I; "but this is a
case where it won't do to bank on past
IN WHICH HE HANDS
its hind legs and yelling its Head off to
hand the glad gab to some guy, I always
like to clear away the red tape and the
stage settings and dig In back of the
scenery to get a peep at the real heroes
who worked their blocks off to win the
honors that the big guy Is copping. And
let me tell you that those are the guys I
buy the drinks for every trip. And be
fore I split my thorax and bust the wide
canopy of heaven with yells over a hero,
he's got to show me that there's no poor
dub hiding behind the stage settings who
Is being skinned out of his laurel wreath.
"It's all very well to cheer the officer
who leads his men on a flank attack and
swats the enemy behind the ear when
he Isn't looking, but Jjow about the guys
in front who are getting their intestines
shot around over the landscape in order
to give him his opportunity? And let
me tell you that right there Is where
the public gets in wrong on Its football
heroes, too. The kid who (rets through
the line and waltzes down the field for
a touchdown hogs the whole blamed hero
Job, but how about the husky guy In
the line who liad to klk a hole through
his opponent's diaphragm and dig the
i uvu nviLJiiv i
, performances. From all the signs. . Ducky 'reaches
Ferdv has struck a new gait."
The Bishop throws up his hands.
"How clearly you put it," says he, "and
how stupid of me not to understand!
Should we visit the steamer or not?"
"Bishop." says I, "you're a good
guesser. We should."
And there wa'n" any trouble about
locatin' the high-C artist. All we has
to do Is walk along the promenade
deck until we comes to a suite where
the cabin stewards was poppin' in and
out. luggin' bunches of flowers and
baskets of fruit, and gettin' the book
signed for telegrams. The Bishop was
for askin questions and sendin' in his
card; but I gets him by the sleeve and
tows him right in.
I hadn't made any wrong guess,
either. There in the corner of the state
room, planted In a big wicker armchair
with a jar of long-stemmed American
beauts on one side, was Madam Brook
lini. On the other side, sittin' edge
ways on a canvas stool and holding her
left hand, was Ferdy.
I could' make a guess as to how the
thing had come around, r'erdy break
In' from his shell at the house party,
runnin' across Brooklini under a soft
light, and losln' his head the minute
she begins cooin low notes to him.
That's what she was doln' now, him
gazin' up at her, and her gazin' down
at him. It was about the mushiest
performance I ever see.
"Ahem." says the Bishop, clearln his
throat and blushtn" a lovely maroon
color. "I er we did not Intend to
intrude, but "
Then it was up to Ferdy to show the
red. He opens his mouth and gawps
at us for a whole minute- before he
can get out a word. "Why why
Bishop!" he pants. "What how "
Before he has time to choke, or the
Bishop can work up a case of apoplexy
I Jumps into the ring. "Excuse us
doin' the goat act." says I "but the
Bishop has got some word for you from
the folks at home, and ne wants to get
it off his mind."
"Ah. friends of yours, Ferdy?" says
Madam Brooklini, throwin' us about
four hundred dollars worth of a smile.
There was nothin' for Ferdy to do
then but pull himself together and
make us acquainted. And say. I never
shook hands with so much Jewelry all
at once before! She- has three or four
bunches of sparks on each finger, not
to mention a thumb ring. Oh. there
wa'n't any mistakin' who skimmed the
cream off ttje box office receipts ofter
you'd took a look at her.
And for a straight-front Venus she
was the real maraschino. Course, even
if the complexion was true, you would
n't put her down as one of this Spring's
hatch; but for a broad heavyweight
girl the was the fancy goods. And
when she cuts, loose with that eight-een-carat
voice of hers, and begins to
roll them misbehavin' eyes, you forgot
how the chair was creakln' under her.
The Bishop has all he can do to re
member why he was there; but he
manages to get out that he'd like a few
minutes on the side with Ferdy.
"If your message relates In any way
to my return to Newport," says Ferdy,
stifftnin' up, "It's useless. I am not
gotng there!"
"But, my dear Ferdy " begins the
Bishop, when the lady cuts in.
"That's right. Bishop," says ehe.
"I do hope you can persuade the eilly
boy to stop following me around and
teasing me to marry him." t-
"Oh, naughty!" says I under my
breath.
The Bishop Just looks from one to
the other, and then he braces up and
says, "Ferdinand, this is not possible,
is It?"
It was up to Ferdy again. He gives
a squirm or two as he catches the
Bishop's eye. and the dew was beginnin
to break out on his noble brow, when
WS1)-3D
THE COACH A LITTLE FOOTBALL DOPE
human fragments out of his way to make
room for his little waltzing stunt? I
guess maybe he's got a carload of laurel
wreaths coming to him that he never
gets. Take it from me, there are a
thundering lot of football heroea credit
ed with long runs who couldn't move
an Inch without a corps of men going
ahead to clear away -the rubbish and
build a boardwalk.
"Of course it's all right to hand the
glad gab to the kid who can step back
of the line and drive the pigskin over
the bar from the 40-yard line, because
he's gbt it coming to him. But the
crowd always loses sight of the swell
blocking and stiff resistance that the
rest of the team has to put up in order
to give him time to pull off the stunt.
If the tackle goes to sleep or Isn't
there with the goods and lets a man
through, it's all off with the hero stunt
for the kid who Is twisting the laces
around so the ball will balance.
"No, old man, you can take my tip.
there are blamed few heroes that some
other guy hasn't done a thundering lot
to make. And the public, with its
usual alertness at looking at appear
over and gives his hand
a playful little squeeze, j.nai was a
nerve-restorer.
"Bishop." says he, "I must tell you
that I am madly, hopelessly in love
with this lady, and that I mean to
make her my wife."
"Isn't he the dearest booby you ever
saw?" gurgles Madam Brooklini. "He
has been saying nothing but that for
the last five days. And now he says
he Is going to follow me across the
ocean and keep on saying it. But you
must stop. Ferdy: really you must."
"Sever." says Ferdy, gettin' a good
grip on the cut-glass exhibit.
"Such persistence!" says Ducky,
shiftln" her searchlights from him to
us and back again. "And he knows I
have said I would not marry again.
I mustn't, my managers don't like It.
Why, every time I marry they raise a
I. mm. -I
WE TAKES AFTER FERDY AS FAST AS THE BISHOP'S WOUND WOULD
LET US.
most dreadful row. But what can I
do? Ferdy insists, you see; and If he
keeps it up, I Just know I shall have to
take him. Please be good Ferdy."-
Wouldn't that make you seasick?
But the Bishop comes to the front like
he'd heard a can to man the lifeboat.
"It may influence you somewhat,"
says he, "to learn that for nearly a
year Ferdinand has been secretly en
gaged to a very estimable young wo
man." "T know," says she. tearln' off a
little giggle. "Ferdy has told me all
about Alicia. What a wicked, deceit
ful wretch he Is! isn't he? Arn't you
ashamed, Ferdy to act so foolish over
me?"
If Ferdy was he hid it well. All he
seemed wlllin' to do was to sit there,
holdin' her hand and lookln' as soft as
a custard pie, while the Lady Williams
burg tells what a tough Job she has
dodgin' matrimony, on account of her
yieldin' disposition. I didn't know
whether to hide my face in my hat. or
go out and lean over the rail. I guess
the Bishop wa'n't feelin' any too com
fortable either; but he was there to do
his duty, so he makes one last stab.
"Ferdinand," he says, "your mother
asked me to say that "
"Tell her I was never so happy In
my life," says Ferdy, pattin a broad
side of solitaires and marquise rings.
"Come on Bishop," says I. "There's
only one cure for -a complaint of that
kind and it looks like Ferdy was bound
to take It."
We was Just startln" for the deck.
ances, only sees the part of the show
that is In the limelight. In football
there seems to be only two men In each
play that the public sees; the guy who
carries the ball and the one who makes
the tackle. And the truth of the whole
matter is that the deciding points of
the game are usually pulled off' by the
other guys who don't happen to be in
the limelight at that particular time.
"Football la the most widely misun
derstood of our National pastimes. The
guys up in the stands who really un
derstand the One points of the game
are as widely scattered as facts in a
political speech. To nine out of every
ten of the spectators It Is merely a
mass of humanity in an aimless scram
ble to kick each other into the hospital
In order to have less opposition in
crossing the goal line. And that's why
a thundering lot of these mollycoddles
get their hammers out against the
game, and all the editors,- from Kala
mazoo to the Everglades, take a fall
out of it annually with their salary
quills. And take It from me. If you
guys on the Rules Committee open
your ears too much to the yelps of he
when the door was blocked by a stew
ard luggin' in another sheaf of roses,
and followed by a couple of middle
aged jolly-lookin' gents, sraokin' cigars
and marchin' arm In arm. One was
a tall, well-built chap in a silk hat;
the other was a short, pussy, ruby
beaked gent in French flannels and a
Panama.
"Hello, sweety!" says the tall one.
"Peekaboo, dearie!" sings out the
other.
"Dick! Jimmy!" squeals Madam
Brooklini. givin' a hand to each of 'em,
and leavin' Ferdy holdln' the air. "Oh
how dellghtfuly thoughtful of you."
"Trieed to ring in old Grubby, too,"
says Dick, "but he couldn't get away.
He chipped in for the flowers, though."
"Dear old. Grubby!" says she. "Let's
see, he was my third, wasn't he?"
"Why, deary!" says Dicky boy. "I
was Number three. Grubby was your
second."
"Really!" says she. "But I do get
you so mixed. Oh!", and then she re
members Ferdy. "Ducky, dear," she
goes on, "I do want you to know these
B'ntlemen two of my former hus
bands." "Wha-a-at!" gasps Ferdy, his eyes
buggin' out.
I hears the Bishop groan and flop
on a seat behind me. Honest, it was
straight! Dick and Jimmy was a cou
ple of discards, old Grubby was an
other, and inside of a minute blamed if
she hadn't mentioned a fourth, that
was planted somewhere on the other
side. Course, for a convention there
wouldn't have been a straight quorum;
but there was enough to answer roll
call to make it pass for a reunion, all
right.
And it was a peach while It lasted.
The pair of has-beens didn't have long
to stay, one havin to get back to Chi
cago and the other bein' billed to start
oh a yachting trip. They'd Just run
over to say by-by, and tell how they
was plannln" an annual dinner, with
the judges and divorce lawyers for
guests. Yes, yes, they was a Jolly
couple, them two! All the Bishop could
do was lay back and fan himself as he
listens, once in a while whisperin' to
himself, "My, my!" As for Ferdy, he
looked like he'd been hypnotized and
was waitin' to be woke up.
The pair was sayin' good by for the
third and last time, when in rushes a
high-strung, nervous young feller with
mollycoddle public you'll-put the game
on the bum.
"The game as it Is cant be Improved
upon for those who understand it, and
let those who don't understand it stay
at home and get up a pussy-wants-a-corner
tournament with the neighbors
and have a real enjoyable time, and
take it from me we'll all be a blamed
sight better off. If you keep on legis
lating to eliminate roughness from the
game, some of th"ese days the big
knowledge factories will lose the
championship to the Old Women's
home, and that will be very discour
aging to posterity.
"Football, as it Is now played. Is a
game that develops In the school kid
the same qualities that he will have to
pack in order o cop any kind of suc
cess In his after life. And the great
est lesson that he'll dig out of the
scrimmage on the football field is the
absolute dependence of a guy on tho
help of his fellow-men. The kid who
cuts out for himself and tries to be
the whole show every time the quar
terback calls his signal will blamed
soon get it kicked into his knot that
about the only chance he has to win on
a lone hand In this old dump of a world
Is for, the rest of the world to drop
dead. And when he goes out' to stab
the business world in the face he'll
be hep to the fact that there's got to
be some team work and he can't plug
along playing an individual game with
any degree of success. There's got to
be somebody making openings and run
ning interference or it's all off with his
career.
"It's all well enough to hand out
this slush about a man being a self
made man, but take it from me. If he is
any kind of a success as a structure
he has only been the architect. If you
dig into the past history of the build
ing operations you'll usually find that
somebody else has put on the Queen
Anne gables and Corinthian cornices
and the concrete foundation was laid
by the guy who gave him a start.
There's nothing to It, If self-made men
had to finish the whole Job themselves
there wouldn't be anybody blowing
about the final result."
"You don't think the game should bo
opened up, then, and the roughness
eliminated in order to lessen the possi
bility of injury?" inquired the coach.
"I should say not," replied the Old
Sport, "For mine give me the old flying-wedge
days, when we knew blamed
well that the survivors of the carnage
were men of backbone and sand and
fit to take the Job of holding up the
world off Atlas' hands. I don't want
any of my kids coming out of the
knowledge factory with an assorted
collection of mollycoddle germs to in
troduce into the business world. Not
on your life. Let mollycoddle society
stick to pussy-wants-a-corner and Co
penhagen tournaments and let the foot
ball alone. Those parents who want
IMA.
a pencil behind his car and a pad In hl
hand.
"Well, Larry, what Is it now?" snaps
out Madam Brooklini. doln' the light
nin' change-act with her voice. "I am
engaged, as you see."
"Can't help It." says I.arry. Cot
fourteen reporters and eight snapshot
men waiting to do the sailing story for
the morning editions. Shall I bring
'em In?"
"But I am entertaining two of my
ex-husbafids," says the lady, "and
"Great." says Larry. "We'll put 'em
In the group. Who's the other?"
"Oh, that's only Ferdy," says she.
"I haven't married him yet."
"Bully," says Larry. "We can get a
half column of space out of him alone.
He goes in the pictures too. We'll label
him "Next. or 'Number Five Elect."
or something like that. Line em up
outside, will you?"
"Oh, pshaw!" says Madam Brooklini.
"what a nuisance these press agents
are! but Larry Is so enterprising.
Come, we'll make a splendid group, the
four of us. Come Ferdy."
Reporters!" Ferdy lets it come out
of him kind of hoarse and husky, Just
like he'd seen a ghost.
But I knew the view he was gettln':
his name in the headlines, his picture
on the front page, and all the chappies
at the club and the whole Newport
crowd chucklln' and nudgln' each other
over the story of how lie was taggin'
around after an op'ra singer that had
a syndicate of second-hand husbands.
"No. no. no!" says he. It was the
only time I ever heard Ferdy come any
where near a yell, and I wouldn't have
believed he could have done It If I
hadn't had my own eyes on him as ha
jumps clear of the corner, makes a
flyln' break through' the hunch, and
streaks it down the deck for the for
ward companion way..
Me and the Bishop didn't wait to see
the finish of that group picture. We
takes after Ferdy as fast as the Bish
op's wind would let us, he beln' afraid
that Ferdy was up to something des
perate, like Jumpin' off the dock. All
Ferdy docs, though, is Jump Into a cab
and drive for home, us trailin' on be
hind. We was close enough at the end
of the run to see him bolt through the
door; but Kuppa tells us that Mi.
Dobson has left orders not to let a soul
into the house.
Early next mornin" though the Bish
op comes around and asks me to go up
while he tries again, and after we've
stood on the steps for ten minutes,
waitin' for Kupps to take in a note,
we're shown up to Ferdy's bedroom.
He's in silk pajamas and bathrobe,
lookin' white and hollow-eyed. Every
mornin' paper in town Is scattered
around the room and not one of them
with less than a whole column about
how Madam Brooklini sailed for Eu
rope. 'Any of 'em got anything to fay
about Number Five?" says I.
"Thank heaven, no." groans Ferdy.
"Bishop, what do you suppose poor
dear Alicia thinks of me, though?"
"Why, my son." says the Bishop, his
little eyes sparklin', "I suppose she
is thinking that it is most time for you
to arrive in Newport as you promised."
"Then she doesn't know what an ass
I've been?' says Ferdy. "No one has
told her?"
"Shorty, have you?" says the Bishop.
And when Ferdy sees me a grinnlu",
and it breaks on him that me and the
Bishop are the only ones that know
about this dippy streak of his, he's the
thankfulesr cuss you ever saw. Alicia?
He could hardly get there quick enough
to suit him; and the knot's to be tied
inside of the next month.
"Marryin's all right," says I to Ferdy
"so long's you don't le'. the habit grow
on you."
(Copyright, J908, by the American Sun
day Magazine.)
their kids to go through college with
out getting their hair mussed can have
them take up intercollegiate beanbags
with the Feihale Seminary. But take
my tip and at least keep football where
no inmate- of the Old .Women's . Home
will ever make the Ail-Americans."
Keeping Up the Lake's Level.
Mound City (Mo.) Jeffersonian.
Answer to the Bigelow correspondent
of the Jeffersonian in regard to Mrs.
Brldmon falling in the lake: There was
no scare on the south, end of the lake.
At the same time one of our Fortescue
girls fell In with her mouth open and
came up with it shut and caused a
thirteen-inch fall. Throw all your big
folks in at the north end you can't
scare the south end.
HaU, Manhattan!
New York Sun.
O thou that Bluest In exalted state
Beside the eascern sate
Of our broad land, thy girth commensurate
With bar free vastness. hail!
Since the lone lookout, lorn tor homclaud
leaa.
Above the Half Moon's awkward, wind
taut sail
Glimpsed, o'er the white spume of the un
easy seas.
Thine ample haven draped and garlanded
With uncontaminate beauty, antic time.
Through Summer's rose breath and wan
Winter's rime, x
Has footed far, with bis unvarying tread,
Now smiling-, harlequin of face, and now
With jrrave and brooding- brow!
Small thy beginnings as it is with all
That mounts to greatness. Long wert thou
the thrall
Ut unpiumDea Wliaerness, lbub n
The heavens at midnight when there shines
no star.
Not by a dizzy vault didst thou attain
To altitude of place, and thine increase ,
Marched well nigh wltnout cease
Along the pathways of unpertlcd peace:
Though once swart war beheld thee on the
wane,
Grim gripped by Are and sorely famine
bound.
Till liberty and right,
O'ercomlng tyrant might.
8et up their righteous reign
To the triumphant trumpet's master sound!
Ab, what were susa, or proud Babylon.
Or mighty Nineveh
Beside thy titanlike and soaring towers?
Their pomp and sway.
The splendid aura that about them shone.
Are one with faded and forgotten hours.
An empty name each is an empty name
A faint heard whisper on the lips of Fame!
But thou but thou shall I turn prophet?
Let noThe poet posture as the sage!
Yet as age adds to age
Accretions large or little, mayst thou fain
Of thy fair stature, fairer stature gain
As pass the pinioned years upon their way.
Each rlamoring thy past
With some tine touch of splendor mat snan
last
Aye, that shall last until
Speaks from the outer void the Eternal
will
Clinton Scollard.
i