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About Wallowa chieftain. (Joseph, Union County, Or.) 1884-1909 | View Entire Issue (July 3, 1902)
I, IIERR STEINIIARDFS NEMESIS BY J. MACLAREN COBBAN. CI I A IT EU X Continued. '"Manuel," Mid he, "is a double dyed villain, if he docs aught to harm Paul's girl! 1 can see what he's up to, though; he has given no account of Paul's affairs vet, and if he can get Louise to firry Frank he needn't. He may want all the money lie can get hold of soon; the plaintiffs in that pat ent case have appealed, and he'll ha' to appear again and fight at th' next Bitting of the court. But lie shannot plunder the lass. I mun find if she's with my sister, and if he's frightening her and if he bo, by th' L d! I nam get a writ of mandamus or sunimat, and tak' th' lass whoam wi' me. I'm guardian as much as him, and if the lass would rather bide wi' me he can not take her. Yea; I shall set about it." I drew his attention back to the ur gent necessity of doing something in her father's case; had he anything to suggest? "Well, now ,let me think," said he, "We'll suppose Paul came home that, night late, you think, very late wi' his little portmanteau carried in his hand; he pulls out his handkerchief to blow his nose, or his repeater watch to know the time, as he comes down the lane, and so he drops that ticket. It's near one o'clock, may be, and there's not a light anywhere burning; yea, by the L d! but there is!" he exclaimed, turning and catching hold of my arm. "Eight in th' road, as it were, as he comes by the pond, he sees th' light that burns all night in old Jaques' s cot tage! (Birley always pronounced the name 'Jakes.') ''Th' owd chap seldom is put to bed; he usually sits or lies up in that chair of his all night and all day. Paul was aye fond o' th' old chap: now does he lift latch and go in, just to say 'how -de-do,' or does he think it is too late, and he'd best go on and see what Steinhardt's up to' If we could onlv get th' old chap to speak and tell us!" CIIATPER XI. It is not necessary to detail how we finally succeeded, after five days of hard labor, under the direction of a physician, in getting old Jaques to un derstand what we wanted to know, namely, whether his nephew, Paul La croix, had visited him on the night of the lHth of March, 18S2. We did suc ceed, however, in not only getting him to understand, but in obtaining indis putable evidence. Mr. Lacroix had stopped at the cottage that night and Lad left for the Jaques a package of Paris papers bearing dates from the 10th to the Kith of the month and a statement to this effect was signed by theoldman, who had sufficiently recov ered the use of his right arm to sign his name legibly. The anxiety and excitement of those five days had been so great for me that for some little time I was almost pros trated. I need scarce say that I was much encouraged by our success with Jaquea: l had the papers with his signed declaration, witnessed, of course, by Birley and myself, securely locked away in my desk. This should have stimulated mo to immediate further action, and, I have no doubt, would have, had I not been still eaten up with anxiety about Louise. What if the hope I cherished as the end of all this the hope of taking her from the fears and dangers that hung about her, of having her as my very own, my wife! whta if this hope was being baulked while I was thus busy? The mere thought of such a contingency was enough to bring mv fabrie of careful evidence regarding the Lacroix mystery to nought. If I could only discover where she was! and that she still thought of me, as I fondly believed she had done a little while she was yet in Titnperley! still refused to yield to the cajoleries and threats of Steinbaidt, and hoped I would deliver her! But I had no news, and I was devoured with anxiety. No news except the confirmation from Birley that the was not with Mrs. Steinhardt. He had written to his sister inquiring about Louise, and had been answered to that effect; Mrs. Steinhardt had reason for supposing she was in Blackpool, but at what ad dress she could not say. I entreated Birley to go to Blackpool to endeavor to find out, if he could spare the time. But he needed no en treaty, for he himself was also becom ing anxious about her. "I mun epare the time, eaid he; "and I mun go and find her. It's, of course, no use asking 'Manuel where she is." But before he had arranged to set out, something occurred which obviated the necessity of going, and produced re sults of a more remarkable sort; and this I must proceed to relate. As I have already indicated, my ex perience of the way in which such evi dence as I had regarding Lacroix's fate had rather come to me than been found by me tended to make me what I may . call "a waiter upon Providence." I conceived I may say, I was convinced I should best attain further result, by keeping myself open to evidence more than by ranging about and rack ing my brain in search of it. All fear being at rest that our experiment upon old Jaques might have fatal or un toward results (he was now more alert than ever, and frequently asked, in writing, for "the girl"), I had betaken myself to a former habit, and every day almost went into town to the free library to read. Sometimes I read a book, and sometimes the newspapers. I was thus occupied one afternoon with The Times. I turned with a curi- osity which was half listless to the "agony column," and my attention was at on ce arrested by this: 1 "TO EMMANUEL STEIN HARDT in England. KmileHaas in Basel tend this. '1 hough you me have forg itten I not you. I am in very much trouble and fear from you, many times since first, now aiflin. Come to me, come, before the 'Too late' must be gewrit ten." (A Basel address was ap pended.) Was it not natural that. I should at once think this was addressed to the Emmanuel Steinhardt I knew? There might be others of the name in Eng land, but surely no other to whom the implication, which I read between the lines of this advertisement, of broken faith with a woman would so well ap ply. And she seemed in urgent dis tress; she begged him to go to her. It was scarcely probable, I thought, that Steinhardt would see it; he read little of newspaper literature, I knew, and his usual paper was the local daily. What, then? In spite of my ab horrence of him, and my wish to avoid him, should I not, for the woman's sake, inform him of this? I pondered this idea all the rest of the day, until the evening, when I took it to Birley. ertainiy, saiu lie; "the scamp: Let him know of it. I suppose he only married my sister because she had a bit of brass." So I called on Steinhardt that very evening. "Thank you, Mr. Unwin," said he, when I had told him my errand; "but some kind friend has already sent me the paper" (taking up a copy of The Times). "Yes," he continued, reading it over and chuckling at its composi tion. "I suppose she thought she must write English for an English papei." (He laid the papei down.) "Poor limine, she wants me; but I can't go, you know. I must go to London about my lawsuit again. I might send Frank, but I really want him here." He paused and looked at me, meditatively "You are doing nothing, Mr. Unwin. Would you go for me? You would, really and truly, do better than I should. She thinks she would like to see me and speak to me, but she wouldn't. She seems to be very ill dying, I suppose she thinks herself, poor woman and to speak to people sick and dying is more in your way than mine. She will like to hear you; she always liked clergymen; she liked me a little when we thought I was go ing to be a a clergyman." He turned slowly to the fire, took up the poker, and carefully raked out the allies from the bottom of the grate. Was memory leading him back reluct antly to those days of his youth, and compelling him to ask himelf whether for all he had gained since then he had not paid too great a price? "Well," Slid he, manifestly shaking something off, and turning to me, "what do you say, Mr. Unwin? I will, of course, pay your expenses, and you will take Krnilie a letter from me, and money I daresav she means she needs it." "I am much obliged to you, Mr. Steinhardt," said I, "but" "Oh," said he, "it is I will be obliged, but of course that does not matter." "It is so unexpected," I continued; I might have added, "and extraordi nary." "Well, yes; I daresay it is. But you know what the Frenchman says about the unexpected." "Let me consider it for a day; and if I decide to go I shall be ready to set out at once. "Oh, yes; consider it, and consult your friends. But if you do not go, nobody will go." I went immediately from him to Birley, and stated at once the extraor dinary offer I had received. "Go, lad," said he; "it will be a pleasant holiday for you, and the pool woman, of course, would rather see somebody from 'Manuel than only get a letter from him." I hesitated; I did not desire a holi day then, even on the Continent whete I had never been, but at the same time some change was becoming necessary considering the low condition to which my finances had sunk. "But,".' said I, "I believe lie has asked me only to get me out of the way for some purpose. I think he suspects I have been finding out something more." "And what does that matter?" asked Birley. "Look here, my lad; I know you're in a way about Louise. Now it strikes me if you go away for a little while (and you may as well go at 'Manuel's expense), things will turn out better for you than you may think. You see, at the same time as you are away, he is away, too. Frank must come back to the works, and there will be no reason for keeping Louise at Blackpool. Take my word for it, he'll bring her home; I shall manage to see her, and if she claims my protec tion as her other guardian, I shall tak' her home with me, and when he comes back he can't ta' her from me. Don't you see, lad?" i admitted tne torce ot the reasons he urged, and all next day (which was Sunday) turned them over. My going might certainly be to Louise's advant age and to my own. Even if Stein hardt brought her back to Timperly only for a visit of a few days, there would be sufficient opportunity for Bir ley to take her home to himself. On the other hand, my refusal to go would bring no advantage nor prospect of ad vantage. And might not, indeed, Steinhardt s offer be a suggestion of Providence? Fo on Monday morning I railed on Steinhardt and said I was ready to set out at once, and in the afternoon I was whirling through beautiful Derby shire on my way to I-ondon and the Continent. I could not forbear feeling something like delight at the change from terrible Tinierluy to these bright scenes although I scarcely knew where I was journeying, or for what. Could I then have guessed what strange things I would hear when I reached the to me unknown city of Basel on the Rhine, could I have guessed that I was being hurried along by the Divine Vengeance, that I was not so much deputed by Steinhardt to see Emilie Haas as by ;hat Overruling Power who was im pelling that man on to his doom, what, I have olten wondered since, would my feelings have been as I was borne along with rush and roar in the railway train? The first night of my journey I rest ed in London. I went to that hotel (Bacon's) in Great Queen street, where Mr. Lacroix had commonly Ftayed on his visits to Loudon, but i found noth ing of consequence. I was wretched, cold and hungry, when, about 7 o'clock in the morning of the third day, I left the train at Basel. I permitted myself to be taken to a hotel, where I ordered breakfast. After partaking of which I revived, and began to think of the errand on which I had come. Since my arrival I had been uncer tainly using French and German, and I had been answered in either language (I found later that in the hotel, at least, I might as well use my native English); but on inquiring my way from the Ludwigstrasse to the obscure street I sought, I had to draw exclus ively upon my stock of German. I dis covered that Fraulein Kmilie Haas lived in one of a row of old tall houses (not unlike some of those in the city of Edinburgh), with little windows in the steep grey roofs, which gave the im pression of eyes with sleepy, heavy lids. Up and up the bare stairs of the house 1 stepped, till 1 think 1 was on the fourth floor at any rate, I was as high as I could climb. I knocked at the door of a humble "apartment" of two rooms, and an old wrinkled woman appeared. I inquired in German for Fraulein Haas, and was informed she was from home, "giving her daily les sons." She was not, then, ill? Oh, no, she was not ill she was well. I asked when she would be at home, and was told "a-, five o'clock in the after noon." So I departed till then, with about six hours in which to tax my in genuity in guessing why Fraulein Haas's demand to see Steinhardt bad been go urgent, since Ehe was net dy ing, nor even ill. At five o'clock I called again, and found Fraulein 'Haas at home. I was asked to come in. I looked curiously at the Fraulein. She was a middle a -zed woman, ol the thin, nervous typo of German (or, perhaps, Swiss), with bright, keen, grey eyes. She rose, smiling, but perplexed, to receive mo, and waited lor me to state my business. "I come from England," I sajd in German. " Then you do not want me to give lessons," said she, pushing away a "prospectus" evidently laid ready for presentation; "my mother thought you had come (or that." "No," said 1 "I come from Eng land to see you, and then to go back again." She looked bewildered. I took from my pocket a copy of the Times adver tisement, and handed it to her. At once the expression of her face changed; pale before, it became paler now, and her eyes seemed to dilate, as with fear. "But you," said she, "are not Em manuel Steinhardt? Perhaps, how ever," she made haste to add, "you are his son? He married, I know." I shook my head. "I am no relation at all to Herr Steinhardt. Very likely that will ex plain who I am" and I gave her Steinhardt's letter. She was moved when he saw the handwriting. She read the letter through eagerly. It was short, I could see. "He thinks I am ill, and in want of money of his money ! Ach! This will not do! You must go away sir!1 (To be continue !) Naming the Child. ' Now, neesearily, when the new girl baby arrived there was much discussion among the members of the family as to what her name should be. "We will call her 'Geraldilla", said the fond mother. "Why not call her 'Esmeralda?'" asked the first grandmother. "I saw that name in a- story once, and always wanted to try it on a baby." "Oh," murmured the second grand mother, that "would never do. Let us call her 'Fanchon.' " "But don't you think 'Eltessa' is a pretty name, and so odd, too?" put in one of the aunts. "Excuse me, ladies," ventured the poor father, who sat near by, but you seem to forget that we are trying to find a name for human being, and not for a 5-cent cigar." Knew How to Take Froude. The late historian, Samuel Rawson Gardiner, used to say of Froude: "Whenever I find myself particularly perplexed on any point I look to see what Froude has to say about it. I al ways find his help invaluale, for I can trust implicitly in his unfailing iu stinct at arriving at false conclusions; and the more positive he becomes the safer I feel in adopting a diametrically nppoiste view." Area Occupied by Indians, In 1890 the area of the nationaf do main occupied by Indians aggregated 116.000,000 acres; today it aggregates 8o,uuu,uou acres, which is aoout as much land as we have in the states of Ohio, Indiana and Illinois. "CURLY" WOOD AND BIRD'S-EYE MAPLE CUT. QUARTERED OAK CUT. The general public has but a faint Idea of what bird's-eye maple, curly walmit and quartered oak really are. As a matter of fact the secret lies entirely in the method ot cuttine or sawing the timber. The bird's-eve figure in maple U produced by cutting around and around the log. and continuing until the log is used up. A huge knife, and not a saw. . used for the purpose, and the wood is really peeled off like a great shaving; hence bird's-eye veneers yards in length are made. Few species produce this figure. That obtained from the sugar maple Is the finest in this country. Curly walnut is the root and that portion of the trunk just above" the ground. The log is sawed in the ordinary way. Curly walnut is obtained from all the species. Quartered oak is produced by sawing the log Into quarters hence the name. These quarters are then sawed into boards from the circumference toward the center, and thus the "Hake," that beautiful figure in quartered oak, is brought out. The waste caused by this method of sawiug is what makes the quarter sawed timber co expensive. THE WESTERN MINING CAMP. It Has Keen Immortullzed In the Writ ings of Ilret Harte. The death of Francis Bret Harte, which occurred In England, has re moved one of the most forcible and distinctive writers writers of the West. His stories Immortalized the western mining camp and rellected the atmosphere of those days, half a century ago, when California was the Mecca of the gold seekers. Quaint, humorous and re BRET 1IARTE. freshing, bis writings will long hold a unique and exulted place in English literature. Mr. Harte was boru In Albany, N. Y., in 1S39, and was the son of an educa tor, who died leaving the family with little means. In 1834 young Harte went to California with his mother and In Sonora tried his hand at the fath er's profession of teaching. He did not succeed in this and became a compos itor In the office of a mining camp pa per, beginning his literary career by composing his first article In type while working at the case. In 18." we find him a compositor In the office of the Golden Era, San Francisco. The ex perience of his frontier life had been Impressive and his literary talents soon put to profitable use the vivid scenes of the previous three years. Clever sketches, contributed nt first anonymously, attracted the attention of the editor, and Harte was invited to join the corps of writers. Soon af terward he became associated In the management of The California!!, a lit erary weekly, short-lived, but of inter est as containing his "Condensed Nov els." In l.Si4 he was nppointed Sec retary of the United States branch mint and while holding this position he wrote several poems for San Fran cisco papers. In July, 18t'.8. the publication of The Overland Monthly, with Mr. Harte as Its organizer and editor, was begun. The second issue contained The Luck of Roaring Camp, a story of mining life, which marked the beginning of Harte's brighter aud more artistic work. The next number contained The Outcasts of Poker Flat, a realistic story, considered by ninny his best production. It established his repu tation, and was followed in quick suc cession by other well known produc tions. The Heathen Chinee appeared in September, 1870. Harte received the appointment of professor of literature In the Univers ity of California in 1870, but in the spring of 1871 resigned that chair and bis editorship aniUsettled In New York. He became a regular contributor to The Atlantic Monthly, aud lectured on The Argonauts of '4'.) in various cities. In 1878 Mr. Harte was appointed United States Consul at Crefeld, Ger many, aud was transferred In 1880 to Glasgow, Scotland, where he con tinued as Consul until the advent of the new administration In 1885. He had since resided in England, engaged in literary pursuits. Beside the books mentioned be wrote many other works. WALKING AND LONGEVITY. With Many Centenarians It Was the Favorite Form of Exercise. Walking appears to be the form of physical exercise most favored by cen tenarians. It Is related of one Mac Donald, who died In Highlands, Scot land, In 1791, aged 101: "He was a great pedestrian, and the year before be died, at the age of 100, undertook on a wager to walk ten miles In two hours and a half, which he performed. He was accordingly presented to the king at Windsor." Colonel George Perkins, of Norwich, (jouu., who uieu i inn ecu years ago, aged 100, made a practice of walking four miles a day until within a few years of his death. Mary Wilkinson of Yorkshire, England, who In 1788 died at 109, walked to London when she was past 00. Hie distance was 230 miles. She made it in five days and three hours. Mary McDonnell, a vig orous old woman of Mngberatempnny, Ireland, In 184, when 117, walked fourteen miles. Sally Morris, who recently died near Parkersburg. W. Va., at the age of 113, had. up to two years previous to her death, walked twenty miles to town and back one day In each week. QUARTER SAWING. A conspicuous number of centennrl- ans have enjoyed their favorite sports nud pastimes even In their very last days. Sieu Dnson de Veger of Lour day, France, who died In 1744, aged 118, "rode hunting fifteen days before his death." Bartholomew Rymer, a Yorkshire gamekeeper who ended a century of vigorous life In 1701, "shot game flylug in his !0th year." One Hastings, an Englishman, dying In 1050, "rode to the death of a stag when nenr 00." In the last century of his life he was a fisherman and swam the river after he was 1(H). All these Instances, says the Roches ter Post-Express, prove the value of out-of-door exercise as an aid In the prolongation of life. REVERSIBLE MOWER That Can Cut Grass and Grain Blown Down by the Wind. It Is well known that with mowers and reapers It Is difficult to cut grass or grain which has been blown down by the wind and become lodged on the ground. This trouble arises largely from the necessity of having to cut around and around the piece on all sides with the machines now In use, Instead of doing all the cutting on the most convenient side, To provide a '( " RC.NS IS EITHER DIRECTION. machine which can run back and forth on the same side of the field, a Minne sota inventor has designed the revers ible mower shown in the Illustration The tongue of the machine Is pivoted nt the center, and by pulling a lever the pin which locks the tongue to the curved frame Is drawn and the team Is swung around to pull the mower In the opposite direction. The cutter bar has a double set of knives and the run niiig gear works as well In one direc tion as the other. The mower is also . .... i.. , .. .. ..o.oKjr,! n,i in large ueius, where it is not desirable to cut clear around the piece on account of its size. How to Korni the Heading Habit. in onier to organize odd inliintna nun i nut mi hours one must have r.f.twiut.i.i, m.t. , i. ..ouiii ciim-uit- nun seep the means of carrying it out within reach. Too ninny people read the books which come in their way Instead of putting iu..-inM-nfs in int. way of getting the ngiii looks, im.y buy and borrow wiuiout thought or plan because they do not understand that reading ought to be n resource as well as a recrea tion. Decide in advance what books jou win read, and do not take im with those which drift In vm.r ,n,. . I .. .. TV - , mm. jjo not uurden yourself with a scheme so extensive that it discour ages you; do not, at the start, plan courses of reading so vast that vou are weighed down with their magnl tude. Begin in a quiet and easy way by planning to read consecutively a few books in some field which Interests you.-Haii)llton W. Mable, in Ladies Home Journal. "ts ' . Mil VV. spontaneous Annlauo A political orator addressed in Eng lish a club' of Italian voters. To his lit """action, his listeners paid strict attention and applauded It inure,,, snouting Viva! uuu umvo: repeatedly. nlnalr.,, tp l.t At the con- ... lu"t ue was delighted with bis reception, and had neve,- 8p0 ken to a more intelligent audience "lla-ah." replied the chairman ' fix all-a dat. Me ho.' up o,7a fin evera man say-a 'Hurrah!' Me hoi' ,, two-a finga. evera man say-a V vu Me hold up t'ree-a finga, evera n, say-a -Bravo!' Me uoV up'" hand, evera man Bny:a 'Hi-yi!' Tke one great yell. Me fix all-a dot." 5Z Sd by hU TIo n.1,1... .i .. . . Mrs. noyle My husband says that 1 am one woman In a thousand. Doyle-Aren't you Jealous of the i -New York Sun. d! Cause for Worry. Aunt Sadle-i feit Robert Is an nwfully careless felio. I heard him say that he dropped $8,000 on the street yesterday !-Brooklv Life. ' Ef Gabrul wuz ter blow bis trumpet tcr-morrer, some er de fault-finderi would rise en tell 'lm dat bis muslcti eddicatiou had been neglected. Atlan ta Constitution. Upgnrdson Among the fraternity of professional musicians I consider Atom Fraternity of professional mg. slcians! Don't talk nonsense, old maul Chicago Tribune. Borem Now, what would you do If you were In my shoes, Miss Cutting? Miss Cutting I'd point the toes to ward the front door and give them t start. Chicago News. He M is Wads worth Is rather man. nlsh. Isn't she? She Exceedingly! Why, she'd rather pay 2 cents morefot an article than go Into a department store to buy It. Fuck. "What's a wreck, pop?" "A wreck, my son, is a disaster on the water." "Not always, pop; there's old Rednose; he's a wreck, but water bad nothing to do with It." Youkers Statesman. Mr. Kawdle I wish you wouldn't In. terrupt me every time I try to mj (something. Do I ever break In when you are talking? Mrs. Kawdle No, you wretch! You go to sleep.-Tit. lilts. Have the letters been duly exam ined by the handwriting expert?" "Yes, your honor." "Very well; let the handwriting expert now be examined by the Insanity expert." Ohio State Journal. Boarder (warmly) Oh, I know every one of the tricks of your trade. Do you think I have lived In boarding houses twenty years for nothing? Landlady (frigidly) I shouldn't be at all surprised. Visitor What are you crying about, my little man? Little Wlllle-All my brothers hnve holidays, and I have none. Visitor Why, that's too bal How is It? Willie (between sobsi-l don't go to school yet A conductor said In a tone of great severity to a passenger who was mak ing considerable disturbance on a can "Uemeniber. sir, tlint you are on a pub lic vehicle, nnd yon must behave at such. Lippiucott's Magazine. "Yes. I nm opposed to American girls maiTyln' furrlners," said old Mrs, Slpes. "I'm just that opposed to It that If my girls can't marry people of their own sex they needn't marry at all, and that's all there is about It" 1'hinagan Hiving, man, phawt's the matther wld yer face? Hanag.m I'aith, 'twas an accident The ould woman throwed n plate at me. Flana gan An' d'ye call that an accident? Ilanagan Av course! Didn't she hit phwat she aimed nt? Hojack My wife only writes to me once a week while she Is away. Tom-dlk-Mine writes regulnrly three timei a week. Hojack She must be very fond of you. Tomdlk She Is; and then I only send her money enough to last two days at a time. A Question of Privilege: Mistress (after a heated discussion with argu mentative cook) Are you the mistress of this house, I should like to kuow? Cook No, ma'am, I ain't. but " Mistress (triumphantly) Then don't talk like an IdioU-Puneb. "Did you git anything?" whispered the burglar on guard as his pal emerg ed from the window. "Naw. de bloke wot lives here Is a lawyer." replied the other In disgust "Dnt's hard luck," replied the first; "did you lose any ring?" Ohio Stnte Journal. Shnrpe On his blrtbdny before tlielr marriage she gave hlui a book enti tled "A Perfect Gentleman." VVhealton Any change after n yenr of married life? Sharpe Yes; on his last birth day she gave him a book entitled "Wild Animnls I Have Met."-Tlt-Blts. intimate Friend The assessor hasn't listed your property at one-tenth of ( what It is worth? Then why don't you increase your assessment volun tarily? Millionaire I did that Inst year, and everybody said I was mak ing a grand-stand play for popularity. Chicago Tribune. Lleuteuant (to bis orderly) Bring me a beefsteak and poached egg. Orderly p.Wuorfeijse me, lleuteuant, but bavent V, j Kgotten that you are to dine w 'at Countess Stlngely's? Lieuten ant d'hat so! I had forgotten Bring me two beefsteaks and two poached eggs! Ex. "Mike," said Plodding Pete. ''I'm goln to Join one o' dese here forestry associations." "What's deui?" Inquir ed Meandering Mike. "Dey're to pre vent de destruction of de forests. An' It Jes' happened to hit me dat If people could be stopped from cuttln' down trees dey're wouldn't be no more wood to spliy-Wushlngton Star. Lonif-Say. Short, I'd like to have that ?10 you borrowed of me three months ago. Short Sorry, old man, but I can't give It to you at the pres ent writing. Long But you said yon wanted it for a little while only. Short Well, I gave It to you straight. I didn't keep It half an hour. Oulcago News.