■ >r
..J .
*»*%•
/F
A Political V endetta
Hr
WELDON J. COBB
o :
CHAPTER XIV.
The foam of passion and frenty bathed
Gideon Hope’s lip«. Like a madman lie
tore at the bars, raving out incoherent
rage and defeat.
,
His prey had escaped him—and, too.
booted and spurred for ttye flight.
Well he knew that before he could reach
the roof and descend to earth. Kane
would he out of the building, speeding
through Che sheltering labyrinths of the
plant to some point of obsecurity.
Fear would lend him wings, money
would purchase hint the means of evading
pursuit. Oh ! this man must be overtaken'
checked, here—.now !
Hope regained terra firma. running a
race of reckless risks he never reafiwd.
He was out of breath, his clothing torn
his frame wrenched and bruised. He re
jected 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. Hope ran up to him.
seized him, brought him to his feet with
• 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.
“You understand?” retorted Hope in
pistol-shot sharpness.
“What’s up—a strike?” v . '
“No. an order, postive—for the good of
the society.”
“All right.”
“ See. 1 have the power to command.”
Hope exhibited a disc. The man bowed
In profound obeisance, as he traced its
symbolic inscriptions.
“ Turn on the arc lights—quick!” di
rected Hope—“over the whole plant, clear
down the main road.”
“That’s queer!”
“Do i t !”
“You bet—it’s a mystery, but the Amal-
aive 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
■jin*
Magic iThnninatioo prevailed where
grim blackness had reigned, somber and
dense, before.
“Light !” exulted Gideon Hope, and ran
•otside. darted up the tower ladder,
■trained his eager sight across the land-
■e»pe.
Th* crystalline Wreaks of blinding radi
ance cat air and sky 1* every direction.
At last a great »¡riling cry parted Hope's
ardent lip*.
°
There, to the vreet. making for an in
trieste network of railway tracks beyond
the works, a black speck was diring away
—Kane.
W hat moat he hare thought to be sud
denly Minded, overtaken
by the fast
and far-extending circuit of electricity!
He coaid not hide or evade— be coaid only
pat on. making off fast aa he coaid for
shelter, obscurity, where the jangle 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 hi*
trail like the bound on the track of the
fbgitive 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 ears blocked
the fugitive. He turned—at bay.
Kane snarled and showed his teeth. He
glanced wildly about him for a rock, a
ootinling-pin—any weapon of assault or
defense.
None was at hand. His fingers bugged
cloee to his breast the precious fortune so
' nearly won.
“Give it up,” said Gideon Hope, bia
eyes glittering with triumph as he advanc
ed—“H a !”
Ilis 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 the moving trucks
of a freight car, scrambling across the
eoadbed.
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
slipped from his grasp.
Hope sprang forward to seize it. for it
lay flat, freed for moment, directly balanc
ing on top of the smooth, silver-clesr rail.
And then—a grinding wheel struck it,
moving quicker than human groping
hands.
Squarely, evenly, the flange cut it in
two—one-half fell outside the rail, one-
half inside.
Kane snatched up one fragment, Hope
the other.
A flash, a rustle, and the schemer
threw himself free of the tracks on the
other side.
When the train had phased be was no
where to he seen.
Gideon Hope stood glancing all about
♦he brightly illuminated swifrth-yard.
“Slipped me. eh?” he murmured. "But
only for a rime! I hare clipped hi* wings
—-I have robbed him of his power—half
the two hundred and fifty thousand dol
lars!” And he waved the severed hank
Botes. “A part, waste paper—and with
out money what is he? A skulking, help
less beggar!—Percy Kane, a brief respite,
If you choose, but you are beaten, mine—
I shall ruin the game in the end!”
• • • • • •
• • • • •
A t daylight Gideon Hop« waa bis old
cold, critical, caculating self.
Reason had succeeded to the furious
reign of passion and recklessness. He felt
that he held the reins of fate scurely in
his grasp. He had modified his plans, at
the same time giving reenforcement to the
iwwer that must eventually enmesh ami
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 trece of
Katie.
He could not go far—a beggar—Hope
realized, awd after aetting his new pro
jects at d-orfc he calmly reflected over the
labor done, the final results attaining
from the closing up of all the strange
plots he had woven to ruin his enemy 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 rather 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 r
And Gideon Hope shuddered now as he
recalled how sternly inflexible in his reso
lution he had bidden pure, innocent Claire
Tremaine 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-
<-erning the evil scheming* 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 him. and looked
and acted curious and puzzled, as she
said:
q
“SW hi not here, sir—«Be 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.”
- ■ ■ -juoms’r — ............. .......... - —--------- .
“X—no. sir. Perhaps a note she left
will explain.”
“For me?”
“Yea, sir.”
She went to her room, returned, handed
her visitor a sealed envelope.
Gideon Hope tore it open—an icy hsnd
seemed to clutch his heart as be 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
lie 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.
CHAPTER XV.
Gideon Hope stood dazed, crushed; a
hideous blight seemed to have suddenly
struck down courage, manhood, resolve
the sacrifice had been consummated, n e
had driven into th» arms, the toils, of his
mosf bitter enemy the one being on earth
he worshiped next to the memory of his
sainted brother.
Could augbt 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’a 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 ■ foe, the glory of
A nnihilating a political party and oblit
e ra t in g a giant truat—all. all. fadrd Into
nothingness, as mere filmy wreaths of
smoke. These that had sepmed so much
were nothing in the face of a stern new
presentment—Claire ! Claire!
lie had counted hi* enemy done for. a
fugitive at_ his sole will, a candidate for
the gallows when he elected. He had
tom from Kane's grasp the fortune he had
sought to carry away in flight to obscur
ity, and had gone borne and slept, smil
ing, fiercely confident of holding his vic
tim in the palm of his hand.
But Gideon Hope, shrewd, kpen reader
of mind and master of men that he was,
had not weighed aright the boundless re
sources, the daring character of Percy
Kane. In the api>arent death throe* of
s 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
—a h ! had be not won what was more
worthy than fortune, or fame, a radiant,
peerless being, who typified to Hope all
that waa beautiful on earth in life!
,
Hope staggered from the doorway in
\ *» Ì
I-.* ..«.tre* •* An
- lA .
ni.m 1
— t :--------------------------- ---------*
= 5 =
which, puzsted and alarmed, stood the
A SONG OF THANKSGlViNCIv
THE ABITUAI TRACED? I
wonder-faced landlady,
•O
“What shall I say to him?” he gasped j f m th a n k fu l t h a t th e y e ars a re iqpg
“to Denslow : Claire’s father!”
H ow ever long they be.
A sickening, sense of responsibility They «till e re lab o re rs glad a n d stfo n g
T h a t e v er w ork for me.
„•
awayed him. When he had undertaken T hin rose I c u t w ith careless sh e a fs
the scheme that' waa to bring Kaae i n k
A nd w ear a n d c ast a w a y —
his thieving colleagues to ruin, he had T he coxnios w ro u g h t a m illion yearn
\ *
T
.m ake It m ine a day.
promised Denslow restitution. II* could T hle o Illy
by th e p a stu re liars
offer It now. In such a shape were Che
B eneath th e w a ln u t tre e .
attains of the metal combination,’ in poo- Long ere th e dre-m lxt form ed la s ta rs .
W
as on Us w ay to me.
session of such irrefragible evidence con
t
cerning its underhand primary dealings T he law s of p ro p e rty a re lax —
»
My
n
e
ig
h
b
o
r's
fa
rm
Is
l
in
e
;
was Hope,' that in the inevitable reprgso-
th a n k fu l, th o u g h he pays th e ta x .
isa.tlon of the wreck Denslotf’ai Jugf and I'm T he
liest o f It Is m ine.
pretentious claim could not be set a s id e - No sh e riff's c lu tc h ra n loose my g rip
O
b
Helds
1 have not aown
hut what of that other element, far mor*
O r sh ak e my sen se of orvnersbip
dear to the fond parent’s heart—Claire?
In th in g s 1 do n o t own.
For while Denslow. In retirement at *, I ’m th a n k fu l for my n eig h b o r’s wood.
Ills
o rc h ard , lake, a n d l e a ;
distance, had consented that his daughter
w hile my eyes c o n tin u e good,
should assist Hope in his schem es, he had F or,
I ow n a ll 1 can see.
no idea how completely Claire had meant
I'm
th a n k fu l fo r th is m ig h ty age.
her promise to obey this strange secret
T hese day s beyond com pare,
*
friend, how far he, the master mind, W hen
hope la such a h e rita g e
would require her to proceed in order td
A nd life a la rg e affa ir,
get the toils fast and effectual about the We th a n k the gods for low a n d high.
R ight, w rong la s well we m ay ).
wily wrecker.
F o r a ll th e w rong of day* goue by
When the new and unexpected vist*
W orks goodness for to-day.
had opened that brought Kane within H ere on T im e 's ta b le lan d w t pauae
T
o th a n k on bended knee.
Mope's power, as man to man. the self- To th
a n k th e gods for a ll t h a t waa.
confessed murderer of Everett Hope, the
A nd Is, a n d la to be.
s
crisis was past—-and. thrilled with strange
th a n k fu l fo r th e glow a n d g ra ce
new ardor, the |>ossibilitieH of love and I'm And
w insom e b eau ty o f th e N ear,
its rewards appealed to his soul, and Gid T ha g re a tn e s s o f th e C om m onplace,
eon Hope had hastened to apprise Claire
T h e glory of th e H ere.
'
of a victory only to face a ^defeat, an un I'm th a n k fu l fo r m a n 's h ig h em prise.
H is s ta lw a r t stu rd in e s s of soul.
expected revelation that seemed to sweep T h e long look of h is sk y w ard eyes
the very ground from benesth his feet.
T h a t e ig h ts a f a r off goal.
T '
He might find. Claire—a h ! yes. as he And so I feel to th a n k a n d bless
B oth th in g s unknow n a n d u n d e rsto o d —
had known he could drag from* hiding his And
th a n k th e stu b b o rn th a n k fu ln e s s
arch enemy when he wanted him*—>»lt
T h a t m a k e th all th in g s good.
how? A wife!—the bride og the blackest —Sam W a lte r Foes, In S uccess M agazine.
scoundrel the wide earth knew; and he,-
C J ----
the almoner of this mad. wicked rite, th at
' ■•H I » »■!■ ♦♦♦
gave innocence and shuddering, shrinking
horror into the keeping of villainy !
The thought maddened him—a blood-
Mrs. Pettingill’s
on Thanksgiving morning, "I hope you knew you hadn’t no time for chicken fix-
red mist obscured clear vision ! Yet, too
ain’t goin’ back on that codfish dinner?' in’s, so 1 jeat baked this pie when I hed
late! too late! He had willed the sacri
Thanksgiving Dinner.
‘Dear, no. p a ; but it is an orful queer the oven het up.” ,
fice. and as a lamb to the slaughter poor
“ I’m sure you was just as thoughtful as
-•
< » dinner. I've half a mind to make an In
Claire had gone, a very victim to idlujl
dian pudding to keep the codfish com you could be, Mias Dawson,“ returned
4-M
-t-d'
'H
'
I
'P
♦
1'
*
H
-
l
l
-H
-
H
-
H
-
k
■
»■
devotion and love.
pany.”
Mrs. Pettingill. “An’ I’ll accept the pm
It seemed as if infinite pity banished!
‘Just the thing,” declared the deacon, ef you’ll stop an’ help us eat it "
all other emotions now—in his sheer help
“The times is bad,” sighed Mrs. Pettln- with a satisfied air.
After some urging the spinster consent
lessness this strong man winced ; he even gi|l, looking as lugubrious as it was pos-
At that moment there came a rousing ed, and out of compliment to her the
trembled.
vlpU, for a rosy-cheeked dumpling of a knock at the door. It was little Tommy chicken pie was cut. But as she glanced
Blindly, vaguely, he went from the spot, wdmkn to look.
Tompkins, who lived close by. lie had at the platter of flaky codfish, cooked to
sefing nothing, caring for nothing, hit
"That’s so,” assented her friend, Mary brought a two-quart pail of cranberries.
juat the right degree of tenderness, flunked
'lulled mind directing this course till, the Ann Dawson.
“ Uncle John sent ma a bushel of rran- by dishes of crimson beets, mealy potatoes
shock of the hour losing its first devastat
“Pa says 'single misfortunes never come b’rie«,” he said bashfully; “an’ ma 'lowed and feathery biacuit, she confessed. “ 1 do
ing effect, the slow return of coherent alone,’ ” continued Mrs. Pettingill. “Fust, you might like to taste of ’em, 'cause nejieve I’d rutber hev some of that than
thought might gradually fit him to realize he lost that little bit o! money he got they’re Cape Cod cranb’ries.”
the pie." And when she had finished her
whaf there was neyt to be done.
| for the medder-land. 1 told him 'twan't
“That was reel kind of yer ma,” said repast with a dish of Mrs. l'ettingm a
When he had come to the boarding j safe to put it in the bank. Then old Brin- Mrs. Pettingill, as she emptied the pail golden-brown Indian pudding she declared,
house, high, elated spirits had bidden de- j dle up an’ died, so we have to buy out and filled It again with rosy-cheeked ap “ I dunno when I’ve relished a meal so
fiance to suspicion or fear, and Hoje milk. An’ now Sam Higginses’ young ples. “T here! Mebbe yer ma wouldn’t much.”
had not noted that he was followed at a ones hev all come down with the measles, mind hevin’ a few of ojir None-suches;
“Jest come here a minnit,” said Mr*.
guarded distance by a hulking giant of a an’ Sam’* out of n job; so, of course, pa an’ I’ll fill yer pockets withf butternut*.” Pettingill, conducting her guest to the
fellow who. in turn, was kept in sight by can’t collect rent from him.’’
the added.
pantry, after the deacon bad gone out.
“Seems to me Deacon Pettingill don’t
a wiry, ferret-faced creature evidently of
“ Now, whatever do you s’pose is the
Before the good woman could prepare
worry much 'bout his hard luck,’ sug her codfish and vegetables for cooking, she meaning o’ that?” and the pointed to the
his own ilk.
Now. as he left Claire’s recent place gested Miss Dawson.
saw Farmer Gibson’s old white horse and array of eatables with a look of perplexity
"La, no! He says the Lord will pro yellow market wagon stopping in front of on her rosy face.
of abode, this double cynosure still !•*»*
attracted his attention. Hope was >heer- vide ; but I tell him the Lord expects folks the door.
“For the land’s sake*!" cried the spin
ly incapable of regarding, of analyzing to look out for themselves a little.” And
“ Wall, I’m In somethin’ of a hurry,” ster, blushing guiltily.
the good woman worked away with re said the farmer, a little awkwardly, tak
extraneous environment.
Mrs. Pettingill surveyed her visitor
As he threaded a lane lined with stunt doubled enerby on the bedspread that she ing a big parcel from his wagon as he Vvonderingly.
ed cedars, the two men came closer to and her friend were engaged in quilting.
“ Why. you don’t mean to aay----- ” she
spoke. “ I was on my way home from
The quilting frame was set up in the Westbury market, an’ I jeat thought roeb began, and then she burst into a laugh.
gether. and then decreased the distance
as to the unsteady figure in advance of | "front room,” and ita mistress felt a par be you could use this turkey 1 had left "Mary Ann Dawson, I ’most think you’re
donable pride in the red and green three- over.”
1 goose," she as id, when she had recovered
them.
her
breath. "Do I look ’s though I didn’t
When they had come to the most un ply carpet on the floor, and the somber
“ Why, I dunno but what I’ll take It off
furniture ranged against the
hev 'nough ter eat?”
frequented and isolated portion of the hair-cloth
yer
hands,”
said
Mrs.
Pettingill.
in uncompromising stiffness.
“ I never said any such a thing.” stam
winding road, the big fellow halted his walla
” 1 ain’t askin’ yer ter buy It, Mrs.
“I declare, Mrs. Pettingill.” said the
mered Miss Dawson. “1 Jest happened
companion abruptly.
Pettingill,”
said
the
bluff
farmer,
with
spinster, after a while, “you look all heat
“Cut in among the trees,” he ordered, out. Pm ’fraid you’re workin too stiddy. increasing confusion. “ I wanter give it to mention to the minister's wife an’ Miss
Graham ’bout your bein’ so busy; an' you
in a hoarse whisper.
It’s kiuder hard on you doin’ this extry ter yer. 1 couldn’t sell it nohow,” he know you was talkin' considerable *bout
added,
”an’
It
would
jeat
spile.”
“Right, boss!”
work just at Thanksgivin’ time.”
“It certainly is good of yer,” aald Mr*. the hard times an’—an’—the codfish,”
“Get abreast or ahead of him.”
“ Ef you’ll believe it, I ain’t done noth
“But I never
Pettingill.
“But you must let me give faltered Miss Dawson.
“ And then?”
in’ for Thanksgivin’.”
thought——”
you
a
keg
of
our
new
cider;
it’s
jest
— ”Tafce ^our-cue Trom me. If I can’t
“ W hat! Ain’t done no cookin’?” gasped
*Ca I you needn’t take It to heart,” In
manage him alone-
Mian Dawson, to whose New England soul right for drinking.”
terrupted Mrs. Pettingill. “ But I dasn’t
Scarcely
was
the
dinner
well
under
way
You can't; he’s built for fight.”
this breach of a time-honored observance when there was another knock, and Leila tell pa. Howsumever, I guess I give ’em
“He don’t look it just now,” muttered was little less than sacrilege. •
Graham, the minister’s little daughter, as good as they sent. There’s one thing
the other. .
“Not a mite,” replied Mrs. Pettingill.
“Kane warned you: Two do the job, ” 1 wasD't reckonin’ on doin’ much, time* made her appearance with a basket 00 I can’t make out, though, an’ that la "bout
Farmer Gibson. He lives a good two
arm.
and make no miss!”
bein’ so hard; then Joel took a notion her “Oh,
miles
from here, so he couldn't very well
Mrs.
Pettingill,”
she
cried,
eagerly,
“There will be none!” wickedly grin that Lizy Jane must go to bis folks for
“grandma sent us some of her very own hear anything.”
ned the big fellow.
Thanksgivin’ week, so I jest made up my mince
“Maybe I can explain that,” said Mlsa
pies for Thanksgiving, and mamma
He showed a lead-ended billy in the mind not to worry over the cookin’. I wants to know if you wouldn’t accept two Dawson, with a conscious blush. “You
grasp of one hand. This leveled from the I had eale’lated on roastin' a turkey or a of them with her love?”
see, Mr. Gibson and mew calculatin’ to
supporting wrist strap, he stole noiseless- ' couple of chickens, but when I asked pa
“Wall, I never!” ejaculated Mrs. Pet get married "bout Christmas time.”
which
he’d
rutber
hev,
he
says,
'Jest
let’s
ly toward Hope, as his companion darted
“Well, et that don’t beat all!” ejacu
tingill. *’ ’Twas uncommon kind in your
hev some nice codfish, with boiled beets mother. I’ll just fill your basket with lated Mrs. Pettingill. “ I guess he’ll be a
in among the trees.
A* a shadow swift and flitting was and fried pork sauce, seoh as we uster apples and butternuts.’
real good provider, so’ I’m sure I hope
thrown across Gideon’s path, the natural hev years ago.”
you’ll be happy. Now, s’pose he might be
Five
minutes
later
pretty
Tilla
Graham,
"For the land's sake! Why, I never
instinct of caution, of alert observation,
cornin’ over to your house to-night?"
heard of such a thing—that Is, for who lived next door to Miss Dawson, pre
aroused in him.
“I s’pose he might," returned Miss
sented
herself
with
a
heaping
dish
of
hot
Dawson.
• He half turned, staring vaguely—a Thanksgivin’.” stammered Miss Dawson. doughnuts.
“
Nor
nobody
else,
I
guess,”
said
Mrs.
whistling sound cut the air.
“Well, ef you’ll Jest get him to call an’
“Mother was trying a new recipe," the
Pettingill, bubbling with laughter. “But,
Then—chug!
take these donations over to Bara Hig
young
girl
said,
“an*
she
thought
you
He experienced a stinging contact over you see, Lizy Jane just 'bominates cod wouldn’t mind her sending you a few, as ginses we won't say another word 'bout
the left eyebrow. The blow stirred him. fish, so we ain’t had none I don’t know you was so busy.”
em. Well, I do declare,” soliloquized
; and her pa’s orful fond of it.”
He recognized that he was attacked, and when
Mrs.
Pettingill. after her friend had gone.
“
I
swum!
that
looks
somethin*
like,”
“ Dear, dear!” thought Mia* Dawson, In
Ef
that
don’t beat all. And him a con
murderously.
said
the
deacon
as
he
came
home
from
silent horror. “I should say they hed felt
firmed old bachelder, and her an out-an’-
“You coward!”
the hard times. I guess I orter go. Poor church.
“Easy—take it again !”
His wife prudently refrained from out old urn id.”— People’s Home Journal.
soul!” she said to herself, as she walked
The fellow was a giant in build; stolid homeward; “she carries it off well, but mentioning the various donations. She
A S e v e r« T e st.
congratulated herself that as it was now
ly confident in his superior weight and they must be dretful poor.’
ox-like ponderosity, he threw himself for
The edito" insisted. The aged humorist,
“I wonder what makes Mary Ann Daw past noon they would probably be allowed
ward precipitately for a finishing blow.
son act *0 queer,” soliloquized Mrs. Pet- to dine in peace. Vain delusion! Scarcely "ho all his life had been penning gay and
How it came about he could not pre tingill. “ I s’pose it must be because she’s were they seated at the table when Miss frivoloua bon mota, shook bis head and
Dawson appeared, bearing a delicious murmured, “1 cannot.”
cisely analyze, it was done so quickly, but an onf-an’-ont old maid.”
looking chicken pie.
in a flash Hope's arms were about his
“But you can. if you only have the will
'You see,” she said, breathlessly, “I to say so,” declared the editor.
own. imprisoning him at the elbows and j “Wall, mother,” said Deacon Pettingill
rendering the dangling slungsbot ineffec
"You forget,” urged the aged humorist;
WHO SAID PU M PK IN P IE f
tive.
“you forget that the habita of a lifetime
are hard to conquer."
(To be continued.)
“ I know; but there ia never a better
In fo r m a t io n .
time to reform than right now."
“My wife tolil me to go to Bargen’s
“No; I'll do it the first of the year.
Listen : On the first day of the next year
to-day and buy a taboret,” said Mnr-
I II take a solemn oath never to do it
rynt.
again.”
“For goodness’ sake!” exclaimed j
But the editor was obdurate. He ar
Dttniley, “w hat does s’.ie want with a
gued. he threatened, he pleaded, he Insist
thing like that?
ed, until finally the aged humorist trem
“YVhy, what Is a taboret, anyway?”
blingly promised. But all that day and
“Don’t you know? That'» what an
all that night the aged humorist snt at
end man a t the minstrel »how uses '’—
his desk, now writing a few words, and
immediately crossing them out with fever
Philadelphia Prrsn.
ish haste. At Inst he groaned in wild de
tTsunllg th e Wnjr,
spair, “It Is too much to ask of me! I
A» a pleasant-faced woman passed
cannot help it—I must do one more!”
the corner H arris touched his hat to
Drawing his paper to him, he dnahed off:
“The powers had best lie careful in dis
her and remarked to his companion:
membering Turkey, lest they spatter
“Ah, my l>oy, I owe a great deal to
Greece over the China.”
th at woman.”
Then, gibbering and grinning In Insane
“Your mother?” was the query.
glee, he dropped his head upon the desk.
“ No; my landlady.”—Detroit News-
And thus they found him the next morn
Tribune.
ing, cold and still, a victim of an insa
tiable habit.—Judge,
W e ll S ta r te d .
“If I were yon,” said the old bach
S o m e Men A r e N e v e r I s t U t e e .
elor to the benedict, “ I’d either rule or
Mr. Newbryde (attempting to carve the
know why.”
turkey)—Good gracious, Mary! what
have you stuffed this turkey with?
“Well.” was the reply. “»« I already
Miw. Newbryde (with dignity)—Why,
know why, I suppose th at's h alf the
with oysters, as you told me.
h attlel"—Atlanta Constitution.
Mr. Newbryde (again drying to force
P r o b a b l y w i t h ■ C o l d C h i e f I.
his knlfs through)—But It fetla Ilk*
“ Does your husband give you all the
rock* or atones.
money you need?”
Mrs. Newbryde—Oh, you mean, horrid,
cruel brute! That la the oyster shells.
“I can’t say he give« It to me, but
You always said the only way you liked
I manage to separate him from I t ”—
oyfetera waa, la tha sheila. Bool boat
Houston P oet
bool—Fan.
/
t