Heppner gazette., November 19, 1908, Image 2

A Political Vendetta
WELDON
CHAPTER XIV.
The foam of passion and frenzy bathed
Gideon Hope's lips. Like a madman he
tore at the bars, raviug out incoherent
'age ami defeat.
His prey had escaped him anil, too,
booted and spurred for the flight.
Well he knew that before he could reach
the roof anil descend to earth, Kane
would be out of the building;, speeding
through the sheltering labyrinths of the
plant to some point of ohseeurity.
Pear would lend him wings, money
would purchase him the means of evading
pursuit. Oh! this man must le overtaken
checked, here now !
Hope regained terra firma, running a
race of reckless risks he never realized.
He was out of breath, his clothing torn
liis frame wrenched and bruised. He re
qected quickly, then in a flash he acted.
Lightning quick he made for a tower a
few hundred yards across the molding
yard. An engine house, elongated from its
base, and steam was hissing thence, but
but slowly.
In through the open doorway Hope
dashed. The man in charge was lolling on
a bench, smoking. I lope ran up to him,
seized him, brought him to his feet with
a jerk and four mystic words the secret
passwords of the inner circle of that great
industrial federation, "the Amalgamated."
The man started at him in wonder.
"Hello!" he stammered.
"Vou understand'.'" retorted Hope in
pistol-shot sharpness.
"What's up a strike?"
"No. an order, postive for the good of
the society."
"All right."
"See, I have the power to command."
Hope exhibited a disc. The man bowed
In profound obeisance, as he traced its
symlmlic inscriptions.
"Turn on the are lights quick!" di
rected IIoie "over the whole plant, clear
down the main road."
"That's queer !"
"Ho it !"
"You bet it's a mystery, but the Amal
sive incrimination, ere he handed him over
to justice.
"It does."
"Then here goes !"
He sprang to a dynamo crank. Soon the
bright wheels were whirring, the sparks
flying.
Magic illumination prevailed where
prim blackness had reigned, somber and
dense, before.
"Light!" exulted Gideon Hope, and ran
outside, darted up the tower ladder,
strained his eager sight across the land
scape. The crystalline streaks of blinding radi
ance cut air and sky in every direction.
At last a great welling cry parted Hope's
ardent lips.
There, to the west, making for an in
tricate network of railway tracks beyond
the works, a black speck was diving away
Kane.
What must he have thought to be sud
denly blinded, overtaken by the fast
and far-extending circuit of electricity !
He could not hide or evade he could only
put on, making off fast as he could for
shelter, obscurity, where the jungle of
tracks and trains showed a mile ahead of
him.
One look, one sure estimate of course,
distance, pitted powers of speed and en
durance, and Gideon Hope was on his
trail like the hound on the track of the
ugitive wolf.
On and on. nearer and nearer now
pursuer and pursued were fairly clear of
the plant lights, but the feebler though
more frequent lamps of the vast switch
yards still served to guide the former, and
the latter was almost continually in sight.
A fierce joy thrilled Hope. The very
peril of being baffled, the exhilarating zest
of a new hunting down, made this second
capture the more precious and treasured.
"I have you !" shouted Hope.
A moving train'of freight cars blocked
the fugitive. He turned at bay.
Kane snarled and showed his teeth. He
glanced wildly about him for a rock, a
coupling-pin any weapon of assault or
defense.
None was at hand. His fingers hugged
cloe to his breast the precious fortune so
nearly won.
"Give it up," said Gideon Hope, his
eyes glittering with triumph as he advanc
ed "Ha !'
His desperate foe had courted death
rather than surrender. Kane dropped to
his knees. A last glance of bitter hatred
he flung at his unrelenting pursuer. Then
he threw himself past tlw moving trucks
of a freight car, scrambling across the
oridbed.
A howl of agony rent his lips .Quick
and spry, infused with terrific courage
and resolve, he might have got across the
other rail, only that the money package
clipped from his grasp.
Hope sprang forward to seize it. for it
lay flat, freed for mompnt, directly balanc
ing on top of the smoorh, silver-clear rail.
And then a grinding wheel struck it.
moving quicker than human groping
bands.
Squarely, evenly, the flange cut it in
two one-half fell outside the rail, one
half inside.
Kane snatched up one fragment, Hope
the oilier.
A Hash, a rustl, and the schemer
threw himself free of the tracks on the
other side.
When the train had passed he was no
where to be seen.
Gideon Hop stood glancing all about
lie brightly illuminated switch-yard.
"Slipped me. eh?" he murmured. "Hut
only for a timp! I have clipped his wings
I have rob!d him of his power half
the two hundred and fifty thousand dol
lars'." And lie waved the severed bank
notes. "A part, wast pair and with
out money wiat is he? A skulking, heip
beggar! Percy Kane, a brief respite,
if you choose, but you are beaten, mine
I thall ruin the game in the end!"
At daylight Gideon Hope wbm bia old
By
J. COBB
cold, critical, caeulating self.
Reason had succeeded to the furious
reign of jwssion and recklessness. He felt
that he held the reins of fate son rely in
his grasp. He had modified his plans, at
the same time giving recnforcement to the
power that must eventually enmesh and
drag to justice the fugitive, Kane.
A score of trusty, willing aides those
same who has assisted in overthrowing
the political ring of the state were now
secretly, diligently searching for a trp.ee of
Kane.
He could not go far a beggar Hope
realized, mul after setting his new pro
jects at work he calmly reflected over the
labor done, the final results attaining
from the closing up of all the strange
dots he had woven to ruin his enemv and
restore to his rights the duped Albert Tre
maine and his beautiful daughter. Claire.
Ah! a new inspiration filled the man's
soul as he comprehended that brisk, bright
morning that he could go to Claire and
inform her that accident or rattier sub
terfuge had brought Kane to bay, and
no longer need she continue her hateful
part, nor her father remain in obscurity.
True, no tangible evidence sought for
had been discovered by Claire that would
surely incriminate Kane in the Everett
Hope murder. But had he not "con
fessed !"
And Gideon Hope shuddered now as he
recalled how sternly inflexible in his reso
lution he had bidden pure, innocent Claire
Tremaiue go even to the altar with the
arch-schemer, but his secret must be
wrested from him.
And now he could go to Claire, tell
her how his plans had fructified more
speedily than he had anticipated ; how
secret information she had obtained con
cerning the evil schemings of the Trust
had enabled him to bring the soulless
magnates to ruin ; how Kane was a beg
gar and a fugitive! She could drop her
mask, and Albert Tremaine could reap
pear and, going into court with the proofs
of the swindlers' infamy Hope had se
cured, obtain justice, restitution, riches !
He could say to Claire, too the man's
heart roused, warmed, as he thought of
her sunny face, of the new impetus love
had given to life whenever the brooding
tragedy of the past was temporarily ob
scured.
That morning Hope went to the house
where Claire had been living since se
curing her position at the works.
He asked for her under the name she
had gone by since assuming her new role.
The landlady greeted hira, and looked
and acted curious and puzzled, as she
said :
"She is not here, sir she has gone !"
"Gone !" repeated Hope, blankly.
"Yes, sir."
"When?"
"This morning early."
"Where?" a vague sensation of pain
struck the speaker's heart.
"I do not know."
"Alone?"
"X no, sir. Perhaps a note she left
will explain."
"For me?"
"Yes, sir."
She went to her room, returned, handed
her visitor a sealed envelope.
Gideon Hope tore it open an icy hand
seemed to clutch his heart as he read a
chronicle of unfaltering fealty, of awful
sacrifice, of broken-hearted despair.
For Claire was indeed gone, lost, and
Percy Kane had triumphed.
This was what the brief note read :
"You bade me wed him, if he asked,
because vengeance, justice, demanded. He
He was gone inside a moment or two.
He came out with a japanned tin box,
placed it on a table, threw back its cov
er. OH A ITER XV.
Gideon Hope stood dazed, crushed; a
hideous blight seemed to have suddenly
struck down courage, manhood, resolve
the sacrifice had been consummated. He
had driven into th arms, the toils, of his
most bitter enemy the one being on earth
he worshiped next to the memory of his
sainted brother.
Could aught atone!
A recognition of the daring, utter tri
umph of Percy Kane, aided and abetted
by his own unconscious co-operation, ap
palled the man ! At that moment, stand
ing blinded and heart-sick at the threshold
of fair Claire Denslow's recent home, in
pitiful subjugation to fate, to doom, he
realized how puny, how shadow-like, were
the vanished powers of will and passion
when pitted against the relentless, un
yielding force of circumstance.
And now, revenge, hatred, the fierce
joy of running down a foe, the glory of
annihilating a political party and oblit
erating a giant trust all. all, faded into
nothingness, as mere filmy wreaths of
smoke. These that had seemed so much
were nothing in the face of a stern new
presentment Claire! Claire!
He had counted his enemy done for, a
fugitive at his sole will, a candidate for
the gallows when he elected. He had
torn from Kane's grasp the fortune he had
sought to carry away in flight to obscur
ity, and had gone home and slept, smil
ing, fiercely confident of holding his vic
tim in the palm of his hand.
Rut Gideon Hope, shrewd, keen reader
of mind and master of men that he was,
bad not weighed aright the boundless re
sources, the daring character of Percy
Kane. In the apparent death throes of
a supreme crucial struggle, the embezzler
and assassin had dealt a blow, quick and
deep, that humbled, palsied, crushed the
victor of an hour.
If it were a subtle, ferocious stroke of
revenge, the very iron of its cankering
essence deprived Hope of momentary
thought and action. If it was merely the
blundering afterthought of the miscreant
ah ! had he not won what was more
worthy than fortune, or fame, a radiant,
peerless being, who typified to Hope all
that was beautiful on earth In life!
Hop staggered from the doorway in
which, puzzled and alarmed, stood ths
wonder-faced landlady.
"What shall I say to him?" he gasped)
"to Denslow ; Claire' father!"
A sickening, sense of responsibility
swayed him. When he had undertaken
the scheme that was to bring Kano and
his thieving colleagues to ruin, he had
promised Denslow restitution. He could
offer It now. In such a shape were the
affairs of the metal combination, In pos
session of such irrefragible evidence con
cerning its underhand primary dealings
was Hope, that In the inevitable reorgan
ization of the wreck Denslow's just and
pretentious claim could not be set aside
but what of that other element, far more
dear to the fond parent's heart Claire?
For while Denslow, in retirement at
distance, had consented that his daughter
should assist Hope in his schemes, he had
no idea how completely Claire had meant
her promise to obey this strange secret
friend, how far he, the master mind,
would require her to proceed in order to
get the toils fast and effectual about the
wily wrecker.
When the new nnd unexpected vista
had oened that brought Kane within
Hope's power, as man to man. the self
confessed murderer of Everett Hope, the
crisis was past and, thrilled with strange
new ardor, the possibilities of love and
its rewards appealed to his soul, nnd Gid
eon Hope had hastened to apprise Claire
of a victory only to face a defeat, nn un
expected revelation that seemed to sweep
the very ground from beneath his feet.
He might find Claire ah! yes, as he
had known he could drag from hilling his
arch enemy when he wanted him but
how? A wife! the bride og the blackest
scoundrel the wide earth knew; and he,
the almoner of this mad. wicked rite, that
gave innocence and shuddering, shrinking
horror into the keeping of villainy!
The thought maddened him ti blood
red mist obscured clear vision ! Yet, too
late! too late! He had willed the sacri
fice, and as a lamb to the slaughter poor
Claire had gone, a very victim to blind
devotion and love.
It seemed ns if infinite pity banished
all other emotions now in his sheer help
lessness this strong man winced ; he even
trembled.
Blindly, vaguely, he went from the spot,
seeing nothing, caring for nothing, his
dulled mind directing this course till, the
shock of the hour losing its first devastat
ing effect, the slow return of coherent
thought might gradually tit him to realize
what there was next to be done.
When he had come to the boardin
house, high, elated spirits had bidden de
fiance to suspicion or fear, and Hope
had not noted that he was followed at a
guarded distance by a bulking giant of a
fellow who, in turn, was kept in sight by
a wirv, ferret-faced creature evidently of
his own ilk.
Now, as he left Claire's recent place
of abode, this double cynosure still less
attracted his attention. Hope was dieer
ly incapable of regarding, of analyzing
extraneous environment.
As he threaded a lane lined with stunt
ed cedars, the two men came closer to
gether, and then decreased the distance
as to the unsteady figure in advancre of
them.
When they had come to the most un
frequented and isolated portion of th
winding road, the big fellow halted his
companion abruptly.
"Cut in among the trees," he ordered,
in a hoarse whisper.
"Right, boss!"
"Get abreast or ahead of him
"And then?"
"Take vour cue from me. If I can't
manage him alone
"You can't ; he's built for fight."
"He don't look it just now," muttered
the other.
"Kane warned you : Two do the job,
and make no miss !"
"There will be none !" wickedly grin
ned the big fellow.
He showed a lead-ended billy in the
grasp of one hand. This leveled from the
supporting wrist strap, he stole noiseless
ly toward Hope, as his companion darted
in among the trees.
As a shadow swift and flitting was
thrown across Gideon's path, the natural
instinct of caution, of alert observation,
aroused in' him.
He half turned, staring vaguely a
whistling sound cut the air.
Then chug !
lie experienced a stinging contact over
the left eyebrow. The blow stirred him.
He recognized that he was attacked, and
murderously.
"You coward!"
"Easy take it again !"
The fellow was a giant in build; stolid
ly confident in his superior weight and
ox-like ponderosity, he threw himself for
ward precipitately for a finishing blow.
How it came about he could not pre
cisely analyze, it was done so quickly, but
in a flash Hope's arms were about his
own, imprisoning him at the elbows and
rendering the dangling slungshot ineffec
tive. (To be continued.)
I n format ion.
"My wife told mo to go to Barton's,
to-day and buy a tabon-t," said Mar
ryat. "For goodness' sake!" exclaimed
Dumley, "what docs s'.io want with a
thins like that?
"Why, what is a taboret, anyway?"
"Don't you know? That's what an
end man at the minstrel show uses."
Philadelphia. Press.
I xiinllv the Wny.
As a pleasant-faced woman passed
the corner Harris touched his hat to
her nnd remarked to his companion:
"Ah, my boy, I owe a great deal to
that woman."
"Your mother?" was the query.
"No; my landlady." Detroit News
Tri'.mno. Well Started.
"Jt I were you." said the old bach
elor to the benedict, "I'd either rule or
know why."
"Well," was the reply, "as I already
know why, I supose that's half the
battle Atlanta Constitution.
I'rol.nbly with a (old Chisel.
"Does your husband give you all the
money yon need?"
"I can't say he gives It to me, but
I manage to separate him from If
Houston Poet
A SONG OF THANKSGIVING.
Tm thankful that the years are long:
However long they be.
They still nre laborers glad and strong
That ever work for me.
This, rose 1 cut with enreless shears
And wear and east away
The cosmos wrought a million years
To make It mine a day.
This lily by the pasture bars
Heneuth the walnut tree,
Long ere the tlre-mlst formed In stars,
Was on its way to me.
The laws of property nre lax
.My neighbor's farm is tine ;
I'm thankful, though he pays the tax,
The best of It Is mine.
No sheriff's clutch can loose my grip
un neius i nave not sown
Or shnke my sense of ownership
In things I do not own.
I'm thankful for my neighbor's -wood,
Ills orchard, lake, and lea;
For, while my eyes continue good,
I own all 1 can see.
I'm thankful for this mighty age,
These days beyond compare,
When hope Is such a heritage
And life a largo aiT.ilr,
We thank the gods for low and high,
Klght, wrong (as well we may).
For all the wrong of days gone by
Works goodness for to-day.
Here on Time's table land we pause -
To thank on bended knee,
To thank the gods for all that was,
And Is, nnd is to be.
I'm thnnkful for the glow and grace
And winsome beauty of the Near,
The greatness of the Commonplace,
The glory of the Here.
I'm thnnkful for man's high emprise,
His stalwart sturdlness of soul.
The long look of his skyward eyes
That sights a far oft goal.
And so I feel to thank nnd bless
Both things unknown and understood
And thank the stubborn thankfulness
That maketh nil thlnss good.
Sam Walter Foss, in Success. Magazine.
Mrs. PettingilPs
Thanksgiving Dinner.
"The times is bad," sighed Mrs. Pettin
gill, looking as lugubrious as it was pos
sible for a rosy-cheeked dumpling of a
woman to look.
"That's so," assented her friend, Mary
Ann Dawson.
"Pa says 'single misfortunes never come
alone,'" continued Mrs. Pettingill. "Fust,
he lost that little bit o' money he got
for the medder-land. 1 told him 'twan't
safe to put it in the bank. Then old Brin
dle up an' died, so we have to buy oui
milk. An now Sara Higginses' young
ones hev all come down with the measles,
an' Sam's out of a job; so. of course, pa
can't collect rent from him."
"Seems to me Deacon Pettingill don't
worry much 'bout his hard luck,' sug
gested Miss Dawson.
"La, no ! He says the Lord will pro
vide ; but I tell him the Lord expects folks
to look out for themselves a little." And
the good woman worked away with re
doubled enerby on the bedspread that she
and her friend were engaged in quilting.
The quilting frame was set up in the
"front room," and its mistress felt a par
donable pride in the red and green three
ply carpet on the floor, and the somber
hair-cloth furniture ranged against the
walls in uncompromising stiffness.
"I declare, Mrs. Pettingill, said the
spinster, after a while, "you look all beat
out. I'm 'fraid you're workin too stiddy.
It's kinder hard on you doin' this extry
work just at Thanksgivin time."
"Ef you'll believe it, I ain't done noth
In' for Thanksgivin'."
"What! ain't done no cookin'?" gasped
Miss Dawson, to whose New England soul
this breach of a time-honored observance
was little less than sacrilege.
"Not a mite," replied Mrs. Pettingill.
"I wasn't reckonin' on doin' .much, times
bein' so hard ; then Joel took a notion
that Lizy Jane must go to his folks for
Thanksgivin' week, so I jest made up my
mind not to worry over the cookin'. I
had calculated on roastin' a turkey or a
couple of chickens, but when I asked pa
which he'd ruther hev, he says, 'Jest let's
hev some nice codfish, with boiled beets
and fried pork sauce, sech as we uster
hev years ago."
For the land's sake ! Why. I never
heard of such a thing that is, for
Thanksgivin'," stammered Miss Dawson.
Nor nobody else, I guess," said Mrs.
Pettingill, bubbling with laughter. "But.
you see, Lizy Jane just 'nominates cod
fish, so we ain't had none I don't know
when; and her pa's orful fond of it."
Dear, dear!" thought Miss Dawson, in
silent horror. "I should say they bed felt
the hard times. I guess I orter go. Poor
soul!" she said to herself, as she warked
homeward ; "she carries it off well, but
they must be dretful poor.
I wonder what makes Mary Ann Daw
son act so queer, soliloquized Mrs. Pet
tingill. "I s'pose it must be because she's
an out-an'-out old maid."
'Wall, mother," said Deacon Pettingill
WHO SAID PUMPKIN PIEP
THE ANNTJAI TRAGEDY!
- -r -
on .thanksgiving morning, 1 hope you
ain't goin' back on that codfish dinner?
'Dear, no, pa: but it is an orful queer
dinner. I've half a mind to make an In
dian pudding to keep the codfish com
pany."
Just the thing, declared the deacon,
with a satisfied air.
At that moment there came a rousing
knock at. the door. It was little Tommy
Tompkins, who lived close by. He had
brought a two-quart pail of cranberries.
"Fncle John sent ma a bushel of cran
b'ries," he said bashfully; "an' ma 'lowed
you might like to taste of 'em, 'cause
they're Cape Cod cranb'ries."
"That was reel kind of yer ma," said
Mrs. Pettingill. as she emptied the pail
and filled it again with rosy-cheeked ap
ples. "There ! Mebbe yer ma wouldn't
mind hevin' a few of our None-snches ;
an' I'll fill yer pockets vith butternuts."
she added.
Before the good woman could prepare
her codfish and vegetables for cooking, she
saw Farmer Gibson's old white horse and
yellow market wagon stopping in front of
the door.
"Wall, I'm in somethin' of a hurry."
said the farmer, a little awkwardly, tak
ing a big parcel from his wagon as he
spoke. "I was on my way home from
Westbury market, an' I jest thought meb
be you could use this turkey I had left
over."
"Why, I dunno but what I'll take it off
yer hands," said Mrs. Pettingill.
"I ain't askin' yer ter buy It, Mrs.
Pettingill," said the bluff farmer, with
increasing confusion. "I wanter give it
ter yer. I couldn't sell it nohow," he
added, "an' it would jest spile."
"It certainly is good of yer," said Mrs.
Pettingill. "But you must let me give
you a keg of our new cider; it's jest
right for drinking."
Scarcely was the dinner well under way
when there was another knock, and Leila
Graham, the minister's little daughter,
made her appearance with a basket on
her arm.
"Oh, Mrs. Pettingill," she cried, eagerly,
"grandma sent us some of her very own
mince pies for Thanksgiving, and mamma
wants to know if you wouldn't accept two
of them with her love?"
"Wall, I never!" ejaculated Mrs. Pet
tingill. " 'Twas uncommon kind in your
mother. I'll just fill your basket with
apples and butternuts.'
Five minutes later pretty Tilla Graham,
who lived next door to Miss Dawson, pre
sented herself with a heaping dish of hot
dough nuts.
"Mother was trying a new recipe," the
young girl said, "an' she thought you
wouldn't mind her sending you a few, as j
you was so busy."
"I swum ! that looks somethin' like,'
said the deacon as he came home from
church.
His wife prudently refrained from
mentioning the various donations. She
congratulated herself that as it was not
past noon they would probably be allowed
to dine in pence. Vain delusion! Scarcely
were they seated at the table when Miss
Dawson appeared, bearing a deliciou
looking chicken pie.
"You see," she said, breathlessly, "I
knew you hadn't, no time for chicken fix
iu's, so I jest baked this pie when I hed
the oven het up."
"I'm sure you was just as thoughtful as
you could be. Miss Dawson," returned
Mrs. Pettingill. "An I'll accept the put
ef yoc.'ll stop an' help us eat it."
After some urging the spinster consent
ed, and out of compliment to her th
chicken pie was cut. But as she glanced
at the platter of (laky codfish, cooked to
just the right degree of tenderness, flankea
by dishes of crimson beets, mealy potatoes
and feathery biscuit, she confessed, "1 do
nelieve I'd ruUier hev some of that than
the pie." And when she had finished her
repast with a dish of Mrs. Pettinein s
golden-brown Indian pudding she declared.
I dunno when I've relished a meal so
much."
"Jest come here a niinnit," said Mrs.
Pettingill. conducting her guest to the
pantry, after the deacon had gone out.
"Now, whatever do you s'pose is the
meaning 0' that?" and she pointed to the
array of eatables with a look of perplexity
on her rosy face.
For the land's sakes!" cried the spin
ster, blushing guiltily.
Mrs. Pettingill surveyed her visitor
wonderingly.
"Why, you don't mean to say " she
began, and then she burst into a laugh.
Mary Ann Dawson, I 'most think you're
goose," she said, when she had recovered
her breath. "Do I look 'g though I didn't
hev 'nough ter eat?"
"I never said any such a thing," stam
mered Miss Dawson. "I jest hnppened
to mention to the minister's wife an' Miss
Graham 'bout your bein' so busy; an you
know you was tn Ik in' considerable 'bout
the hard times an' an' the codfish,"
faltered Miss Dawson. "But I never
thought "
"La! you needn't take It to heart," In
terrupted Mrs. Pettingill. "But I dasn't
tell pa. Howsumever, I guess I give 'em
as good as they sent. There's one thing
I can't make out, though, an' that is "bout
Farmer Gibson. He lives a good two
miles from here, so he couldn't very well
hear anything."
"Maybe I can explain that," said Miss
Dawson, with a conscious blush. "Y'ou
see, Mr. Gibson and mes calculatin' to
get married bout Christmas time."
"Weil, ef that don't beat all !" ejacu
lated Mrs. Pettingill. "I ffUess he'll be a
reid good provider, an' I'm sure I hope
you'll be happy. Now, s'pose he might be
comin' over to your house to-night?"
"I s'pose he might," returned Miss
Dawson.
"Well, ef you'll jest get him to call an
take these donations over to Sam Dis
guises we won't say another word 'bout
111. Well. I do deebiro" otii.
Mrs. Pettingill, nfler her friend had gone.
"Ef that don't bent all. And him a con.
firmed old hachelder, and her an out-an'-out
old n: .id." People's Home Journal.
A Severs Tent.
The edi;.. insisted. The aged humorist,
wno all his ,,fe had been perming gay and
frivolous boii mots, shook his head and
murmured, "I cannot."
"But you can, if you only have the will
to say so," declared the editor.
"You forget," urged the aged humorist
"you forget that the habits of a lifetime
are hard to conquer."
"I know; but there is never a better
time to reform than right now."
"No; I'll d it the first of the year
Listen: On the first day of (he ne.vtear
I II take a solemn oath never to do it
again."
But the editor was obdurate. He ar
gued, he threatened, he nlended l,o i,,uiuf.
ed, until finally the aKed humorist trem
blingly promised. But all that day and
all that night the aged humorist sat at
his desk, now writing a few words, and
immediately crossing them out with fever
ish haste. At last he groaned in wild
spair, "It Is too much to ask of me' I
cannot help itI must do one more!"
Prawing his paper to him, he dashed off:
J lie powers had best be careful in
membering Turkey, lest I lieu tut r rnP
Greece over the China."
Then, gibbering and irrinninir In m.nn.
glee, he dropped his head upon (he desk.
And thus they found him the next morn
ing, cold and still, a victim of an insa
tiable habit. Judge.
Snnm Men Am Never Satlnflrd.
Mr. Newbryde (attemptinir 10 enrve th
turkey) Good gracious, Mary! what
have you stuffed this turkey with?
Mrs. Newbryde (with diimitr Whir
with oysters, as yon told me.
Mr. Newbryde ( again trvlnir tn fnr
his knife through) But it feels like
rocks or stones.
Mrs. Newbryde Oh. vou mean, Wrl.l
cruel brute! That is the oyster shells.
You always said the only way you liked
oysters was in tht shells. Bool boo!
hooi Fun.