The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on February 24, 1892 · Page 6
Get access to this page with a Free Trial

The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 6

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, February 24, 1892
Page 6
Start Free Trial

ALGONA, IOWA, WBDHISSDAY, FJSSBtJABY M f 18*. Wit " By FERGUS W. HUME, "T t —,—_L -._!.— - --. r , -, . j ir Al&M«d«*d I" echoed her father. "They? ,"<WjUld become ns extinct as the moa; but ' 'where are your eyes, Puss, when you take an old rnatt like me for your gay young Lochin- "Well, really, papa," answered Madge, deprecatlngly, "you do look so like him In " that coat and hat that 1 could not tell tho , ".difference till you spoke." "Nonsense, child," said Frettlby, roughly, ''"you are fanciful." And turning on his heel • be Walkerd rapidly toward the house/, leaving H&dge staring after him In astonishment, as well sho might, for her father had never spoken to her so roughly before. Wondering nt the causa of his sudden anger, she stood " Cpellbouud until there came a step behind ber fcnd a soft, low whistle. She turned with a tcream and saw Brian smiting at her. "Oh, it's you," she said, with a pent, as he •saught her in his arms and kissed her. "Only me," said Brian, ungrammatically; "disappointing, isn't it?" "Oh, fearfully," answered the girl, with a gay laugh, as arm in arm they walked towards the house. "But do you know 1 made such a curious mistake justnmv; 1 thought papa was voti." "How strange," said Brian, absently, for " indeed he was admiring her charming face, 'Which looked so pure and sweet in the moon- Alight. "Yes, wasn't itf she replied "He had on • a light coat and n soft hat, just like you wear sometimes, and as you are both the same height, 1 took you for one another." Brian did not answer, but there was n cold feeling at his heart as he saw a possibility of his worst suspicion being confirmed, for just at that moment there came into his mind tho curious coincidence of the man who got into the hansom cab being dressed the same as he was. What if—"nonsense," he said aloud, rousing himself out of the train of thought the resemblance had suggested. "I'm sure it isn't," said Madge, who had •been talking about something eke for the •last five minutes. "You are a very rudo •young man," "1 beg your pardon," said Brian, waking ••up. "You were saying" "That the horse is the most noble of all animals. Exactly." "1 don't understand"—began Brian, rather puzzled. "Of course you don't," interrupted Madge, petulantly; "considering I've been wasting • my eloquence on a deaf man for the last t«u -minutes, and very likely lame as well as deaf." And to prove the truth of the remark, she ran up the path with Brian after her He had a long chase of it, for Madge was nimble and better acquainted with tho garden than tie was, but nt last he caught her just as she was running up the steps into the house, and then—history repeats itself. They went into the drawing room and found that Air Frettlby had gone np to his study, and did not want to be disturbed. Madge sat down to the piano, but before she struck a note, Brian took both her hands prisoners. "Madge," he said gravely, as she turned round, "what did your father say when you made that mistake?" "He was very angry," she answered "Quite cross; I'm sure 1 don't know why." Brian sighed as he released her hands, and was about to reply when the visitors' bell sounded, they heard the servant answer it, and then some one was taken up stairs to Mr. Frettlby's study When the footman came in to light the gas, Madge asked who it was that had come to the door. "I don't know, miss,"he answered; "he said •he wanted to see Mr. Frettlby particularly, sol took him up to the study." "But I thought that papa said he was not to be disturbed ?" "Yes, miss, bur the gentleman had an appointment with him." "Poor papa," sighed Madge, turning again to tho piano. "He has always got such a lot to do." Left to themselves, Madge began playing Waklteufel's last new valse, a dreamy, haunting melody, with a touch of sadness in it, and Brian, lying lazily on the sofa, listened. Then she sang a gay littlo French song about -love and a butterfly, with a mocking refrain, which made Brian laugh. Madge suddenly stopped, ns sho heard a loud cry, evidently proceeding from ber father's study Recollecting Dr. Chinston'g warning, she ran out of the room and upstairs, leaving Brian rather puzzled by her unceremonious departure, for though he had beard the cry, yet hs did not attach much importnnt'o tn it lladgo fctwiL'ked at tho study door, and then she tried tc open it, hut it was lur.':;Ml "Who's tlu.'1-u*" naked her father sharply from inside. "Only inw, papa," she answered. " t thought you were" "No'. No--I'm all right," replied ber •fathor, quiv!:ly "Go down sir.jr.-?. I'M join you shortly '" ilaii^o w(-,nt hue!: to the drr\\vin^ room • only halt sati^UM with tlio explanation. She found Brian waiting at the dour, with rather an anxious I'.'ii-i). "What's t!i? marto.-r ho iit-.l-.eii. ns sho •paused n moment nt the foot or the stairs. "Ha pa says untiling," sho replied, "but I am sure ho must Iwvo hepii Ktartii-Ml. or ha would not huvu cried out, like tlint." Sha told him what JJr Cluii.-t.<>:i und said nbout tlv!St::t4i nt' her lather's ii.-art. a re•Vital '•••li'.eh :.',: u'u,'.| liriiin y;;-i''it Iv ;'::>•-.' did •{M.U ivturi! u> HJL- i!r.'4Win : ; uxmi, i-:u «'ent out on the v<.;r:i!i<la, wln-iv, after "Tapping a cloak around .V!:uip;f\ Fitzgerald lit. a cigar' t'U«. They s-it. d«,wn nt the tar en,I of tho veranda, somewhat in tho shadow, and could st:o the l:ail i.-ior -,vido open a:i;| 'i warm Hood of molleiv !i..;t;i. pouring thorffrom, and .•beyond the cola wuito moonshine. After about n quarter ol mi hour, Madge's r.lann about her 1'ather having sujnuvvhat subsided, i they vvcra elmtiu.'j o:\ incliU'orenS subjects, ! •whiMi a man c-amo out of the hull door and • paused for u momc-nt on the steps of the ve- rauda. llo was dressed in a rather fas' .ion- able suit of clothc-s, but, in spitoof tho heat of the ni^ht, had a t-hicl: white silk scarf round his ttiroar,. "That's rather a cool individual," sali Brian, reuiov!::;:; his cigarette from between his teeth. "1 wonder iv hat--good Groii. 1 " Ito cried, rising to his feet u-.t tho stranger turuud round to look- at the house und tuok olJ hia • hut for a moment. "Roger Sioreland! 1 ' Tho man started uud looked quickly roan<1 into the dark hhadow of the veranda whero they wore wnusd, then, putting on his hat, ran quickly down the path, und they heard ! .the gate clang at'tt-r him. ' Madge felt a. iuddeu fear at tho expression j on Brian's face, and revealed by a ray of moonlight streaming full on it. "Who is Roger Moreland?" she asked, touching his arm. "Ah I 1 remember," witli sudden horror; "Oliver Whyte's friend." "Yes," in a hoarse whisper, "and one of tho witnesses at tho trial." night He itfb Madtfo almort Immediately, and went h;me, but did not go to bJklHtt felt too anxious and ill at eaww sleep, and passed the greater part of tho tight Walking Up and down hia room, occupied with hif ertra *id thoughts. He was wondering in bit own mind as to what could be tho meaning of Roger Morelandt visit to Mark Frettlby, All the evidence that ho had given at the trial was that he had met Wbvte, and had been drinking with him during the evening. Whyte then went out, and that was the last Moreland had seen of him. Now, the question was, "What did he go to see Mark Frettlby for?" He had no acquaintance with him, and yet he called by appointment. It is true he might have been in poverty, and the millionaire being well known as an extremely generous man, Moreland might have called on him to get money. But then tho cry which Frettlby had given after the interview had lasted a short time proved that he had been startled. Madge had gone up Italrs and found the door locked, her fathor refusing her admission. Now, why was ha anxkniF Moreland should not be seen by any one' That be hail made some startling revelation was certain, -mil Fitzgerald felt Biire that it was In '•onneetion with the dan som cab murder caw. He weaned himself with conjecture! about the matter, and toward daybreak threw himself, dressed as ha was, on the bed. and slept heavily till 12 o'clock the next day \Vhun he arose and looked at himself in the glass hp was startled at the haggard «nd worn appearance ot his faca The moment he was awake his mind went back to Mark Frettlby and the visit of Roger Moreland. "Thenet is closing round him,"he murmured to himself. "1 don't see how be can escape. Oh I Uadget Madge I if 1 could only spare you the bitterness of knowing what you must know, sooner or latei, arid that other unhappy girl—the sins of the fathers will be visited on the children—(iod help them." He had his bath, and, after dressing himself, went into his sitting; room, where ho had a cup of tea, which refreshed him considerably Mrs. Sampson came crackling merrily upstairs with a letter, which proved to be from Madge, and tearing it hastily open, he read it. "1 cannot understand what is the matter with papa," shs wrote. "Ever since that man Moreland left last night, he shut himself up in his study, and is writing there hour after hour. 1 went up this morning, but he would not let me in. Be did not come down to breakfast, and I am getting seriously alarmed. Comedown to-morrow and see me, for I am anxious about his state of health, and 1 am sure that Moreland told him something which has upset him." "Writing," said Brian, us he put the letter in his pocket, "what about, 1 wonder* Perhaps" he is thinking of committing suicide! If so, 1 for one will not stop him. It is a horrible thing to do, but it would bo acting for the best under the circumstances." In spite of his determination to see Calton and tell all, Fitzgerald did not go near him that day He felt ill and weary, the want of Bleep and mental worry telling on him fearfully, and he looked ten years older than be did before the murder of Whyta Ha was having nis breakfast at half-past- 3, when he hoard the sound of wheels, and immediately afterword a'ring at the bell. He went to the window, and saw Calton's trap was at the door, while thy owner was shortly afterward shown into the room. "Well, yon are a nice fellow " cried Calton. after greetings were over "Here I've been waiting for you with all the patience of Job, thinking you were still up country." "You must have some breakfast with me," said Brian Calton ho ring been supplied with what he required, prepared to talk business. "1 need hardly tell you how anxious I am to hear what you have to say." he said, leaning back in his chair, "but i may as well toll you that 1 arn satisfied that 1 know half your secret already " "IndeedI" Fitzgerald -looked astonished, "in that, fuse, 1 need not" "Yes you need," retorted Caltcn. "I told you 1 only know naif." "Which halfr "Hum—rather difficult to answer—however. I'll tell von what I know, and you can supply all deh'fiencies. I am quite ready- go on—stop—"lie arose and closed the door carefully "Well." resuming his seat, "Mother Guttersnipe died the other nigbt." "Is she dsad'" "As a door nail." answerer! Calton calmly "And n horrible death bed it was—her screams ring in my ears yet—but before she died she sent tor me, and said" "What*" "That she was the mother of Rosanna Moore." "Yes!" "A.nd that fial Rawlins was Rosannn's child." "And tlia father*" said Brian, in a low voice. "Was Marls Frettlby." "Ah!" "And now what have you to tell me? 11 ".Nothing!" "Nothing," echoed Calton. surprised; "then this is what llosauiia Moore told you when she died'*" "Yes!" "Then why have you made such a mystery about itJ" "You ask that," said Fitzgerald, looking up in surprise!. "If I had told it, dou't you see what a differeiii.-e it would have made to Madge*" "I'm suro 1 don't," retorted the barrister, completely mystified. "I suppose you mean Frettlby's connection with Hosanna Moore; ivi'il. of cc.!;;'-:,?, it. WHS nut a ivrv creditable thing tor ner to have been Frettlby's mistress, but still" "IIUs mistrussr said Fitzgerald, looking up sharply, "'ji 3-011 don't know all." "What do you mean—was she uot his mistress?" "'No—his wifol" CHAPTER XXTX. comowry 19 *teep for BJ^UJ ~ k No~lns wife!" Calton sprang to his feet, und gave a cry of surprise. "His wifar Fitzgerald nodded. " Why, Mother Guttersnipe did not know this—she thought Rosanna was Ws mistress.." "He kept his marriage secret," answered Brian, "and as hia wife ran away with some one else shortly afterwards, be never revealed if "1 uadergtaod »Qw t » fg& tha llowly. to which "Yes, and ite no*occmptotth4 Bat tfawlhtt-Hof fftthef Bal •tight to," "Poor girl,* taid Calton, A tittfe writa "But all this does uot explain th* Hmterv at Whyte'8 mtu-def." * "I will tell you that," «aid fl quickly. "When ftosanna left hw she ran away to England with soma ir fellow, and when ho got tired of bet cho r£ turned to tba stage, and became fomoua &• a burlesque aetresa, under tho name of Musette. There she met Wbyte, as your Wend found out, and they canm out here for ttw purpose of extorting mwiey from Prettlby. When they arrived tn Melbourne, ftoaann» left Whyte do all the business and kebt herself quiet She gave her marriage Cfcrtlflcnte to Whyte, and ha bad Jt on him th«* night be was murdered." "Then Oorby was rigut," ton, eftgerly. "The mm to whom those papers were valuable did murder WhyteJ" "Can you doubt it» And that mar was" -"Not Mark Prettlbyr burst out Calton. "In God's name, not Mark FrottlbyP* Brian nodded, "Yes. Mark Frettlby r There was a silence for n few moments, Oil ton bt-mg too much startled by the rove lution to say anything. "When did you discover this"" he asked, after a pause. "At the time you Prst came to see me in prison," said Brian. "I had no suspicion till then, but when you said VVhyte was murdered foi the sake of certain papers— know- Ing what they were and to whom they were valuable— 1 immediately guessed that Mark Frettlby bad killed Whyte in order to obtain their and keep his secret" "There can be no doubt of it," said the barrister, with a sigh. "So this is the reason Krettlby wanted Madge to marry Whyto- her hand was to be the prico of his silence. When he withdrew his consent Whyte throat-, eued hitr with exposure. 1 remember he Jef* the house in a vory excited state on the uigli't he was murdered. Prettlby must have followed him up to town, got into the cab with him, and after killing him with chloroform took the marriage certificate from his secret pocket and escaped. " * Brian rose to hia feet and walked rapidly up and down the room. "Now you can understand what a holl my life has been fur the last few months," he said, "knowing ohat ho had committed the crime, and yet 1 had to sit with him, eat with him and drink with him, with thu knowledge that he was a murderer, and Madge—good God— .Madge, his daughterl" J ust then u knock came to his door, and Mrs. Sampuon entered with a telegram, which she handed to briun. He tore it open as she withdrew, and, g-Jancing over it, gave a cry of horror and left it Button to his feet. Calton turned rapidly on hearing his cry, and, seeing , him L'all into ti chair with a ghastly whitu face, snatched up tho telegram and road it. When he did so his faca gro-v as paje and str. riled ns Fitzgerald's, and, lifting his hand. Lo said solemnly: r ' a. o sa soemny: 'lt is the judgment of Uodl" CHAPTER NKM1M13. After all, tha true religion of Pate has been preached by George Eliot, when she says that our lives are the outcome of our actions. Every action, good or bad, which we do has its corresponding reward, and Mark Frettiby found it so, for tho sins of his youth were now being punished in his old age. No doubt he had sinned gayly enough in that far o!f time when life's cup was still brimming with wino, and no asp hid among the roses; but Nemesis had been an unseen spectator of all his thoughtless actions, and now came to demand her just lues. He felt feomewhat as Faust must have felt when Mephistopheles suggested a visit to hades, in repayment for those years of magic youth and magic power. So long ago it seemed since he had married Rosanna Moore, that he almost persuaded himself that it had beer only a dream—a pleasant dream, with a disagreeable awakening. When sho had left him he bad tried to forget her, recognizing how unworthy shu was of a good man's love. He heard that she had died in a (jondon hospital, and with a passionate sigh for a perished love had dismissed her from his thoughts forever Mis second marriage bad turned out a happy one, and he regretted the death of his wife deeply Afterwards, all his love centered in his daughter, and he thought ha would be able to spend his declining years in peat:;). Tin's, however, was not to be, and he wua thunderstruck when \Vbyte arrived from 1-Jnglund with the information that his first wife still lived, that the daughter of Mark Frettlby was illegitimate. Sooner than this, Prettlby agreed to any thing; tmt Whyte's demands became too exorbitant, and he refused to- comply with them. On Whyte's rleu,';h ho again breathed freely, when suddenly a second possessor of his fatal secret started up in the person of Roger Morelaiut. The day after ho had seen Moreland, and knew that his sac-ret was no longer safe, since it was in tho power of a man who might reveal it at any moment in a drunken fit or out of sheer maliciousness, he sat at his desk writing. There seemed to bs only one way open to him by which he could escape tho relentless fate which dogged his steps. He would write D confession of everything from the time ho had lirst met llosanna, and then—death. Ho would cut the Oordian. knot of all his difficulties, and then Ids secret would be safe— safe, no, it could not ba while Moreland livM. U'h-ja lia was,!«-i.l would sew Madge and embitter her life with the story of her father's sins, yes, he must live to protect her, and drag his weary chain of bitter remainbrauces through life, always with that terrible sword of Damocles hang- hug over hint But still he would write out his confession, and after his death, whenever it may happen, it might hulp if not altogether exculpate, at least to secure some pity for a inan who had been hardly dealt with by fate. His resolution takon, ho put it into force at ont-e, and sat all day at his desk filling page after page with the history of his past life, which wan so bitter to him. He started at tirst languidly, as in the performance of on unpleasant but necessary duty. Soou, however, he became interested in it, and took a peculiar pleasure in putting down every minute circumstance which made the case stronger against himself. He dealt with it, not us a criminal, but us a prosecutor, and painted his conduct as much blacker than it really had been. Towards tho end of the duy, however, after reading over the early sheets, ho experienced a revulsion of feeling, seeing how severe he had been on himself, so ho wrote «, defense upon his conduct, showing that fate had been too strong for him. It was u weak argument to bring forward, but still ho felt it was the only one he could make. It was quitejdark when he had finished, and while sitting in the twilight, looking dreamily at the sheets scattered all over bis desk, be beard u- knock at bis door and beard bis duugher's voice asking if he was coming to dinner. All day long he bad closed bis door against every one, but now bis task being ended, be collected all the closely written sheets together, placed them tu a <lK*WT of Ws escritoire, which bo locked, and $99 OVER THE BOMB. BILL NYE WfHTt£ PftOM CANADA THAT H£ IS INNOOfcNt tilt Clothe* ,fu»t Fit a CuNtom Uou*« Officer—An Ksperlence W |t), UttssoM Staying tit » Hotel Refit by a Pop wlnr Man. 188, by Kilgar W. Nye.| IN CANADA WITHOUT A CRIME, >• February;- \ Once niore i have evaded the customs of a neighboring country and the eti- qnette of u mighty dominion. 1 have never been the slave to the customs of my own country; why should 1 submit to those of a province? A CLEAN SHAVE. 1 have just rearranged my trunk and tucked carefully back into it the thrilling narrative of a rich slumber robe which fluttered in the Canadian breoze all the way from Windsor to London. Custom douse officers do uot know how to repack a trunk after they have kneaded over its contents, and they shut the lid wrong, so that it takes six men and a P. K. Dederick derrick to open it after one gets at his 'otel. 1 carry with me a change of linen and underclothing while traveling, and have never before found a customs officer who seemed to think these things would fit him. So 1 have escaped. But this time it was different. 1 saw right away when this one looked at me that he was just my size, though less intellectual. He had the same long, swanlike ttn-oat. which looks so well in full dress with a string of red coral beads around it. He had also the same boneless tentacles for limbs that I am using, and his feet undulated a good deal. I am very neat about arranging my trunk, and so he seemed to think many of my things were new just because they were tidy. My method of packing a trunk wa.s acquired at Heidelberg. When 1 want anything out of the trunk I upset it on the bed and thus find it readily. The officer wanted to keep my dress suit bewinse it pleased him, i presume. It is a nice suit, made in Boston by a perfect gentleman. He wanted me to pay duty on a cigar that i had almost smoked up. He was going to seize a dozen perfectos that Mr. Bnrbauk had, but when he found that Air. Burbank had chewed each one a little before crossing the line he said: 'All right; nevermind. They are free." One man ahead of me, 1 noticed, evaded the eye of the officer, and while conversing with him looked out the window. Afterward 1 asked him why ne did that. •Well." he said, "I didn't mind looking nun in the face, but 1 did not want him to notice my breath. 1 am trying to get it in free." He WHS a fat man, anil carried a massive watch which he had to remove before he could get into the car, and he brought it in in his hand. I curry seven razors with me, one of which I use on each day of the week. Then I have at home special razors for Easter, Whitsunday and G-uy Pawkeg Uay. These razors 1 bought at various uargaiu counters through the United States, Some of them will cut a hair. Mr. JelTorson says that the way to buy razors is to got a twenty-five center in every town you visit for a year, and out of the lot you may get a good one. He does that way, he says, instead of buying si $3.50 razor every little while and only getting one-tenth the chance to draw a prize. 1 have done that way, but 1 judge that Mr. Jefferson had preceded me and bought the only good oue there was in the town. Last spring 1 began to shave myself because I got tired of reading The Police ttazette while the neighbors dropped into the barber shop to get their hair cut and get shampooed and also their ear whiskers dyed; also because barbers often referred to my baldness before folks and made me feel hurt. 1 lived in the country, too, for two or three weeks in March, and the nearest barber I knew of was a farm hand who had shaved the prisoners for eight years at Joliet. Ills. So my beard grew out quite rank and nodded in the wind. It i.-j redder than 1 thought it was, and on one side it grows upward, thua giving me u surprised and startled air. So now I am shaving myself. I got a new razor in Chicago. It had a lovely handle, and on the blade it said— j HEMEMBEK ME. i i did so. i For a shaving mug 1 use a mustache cup given me in Paris by an elderly French lady who said she did not need it, as she had two besides this one. ; After 1 have shaved I want to be quiet for an hour or two and generally avoid 'company, especially our pastor. Bat 1 ana improving all the time. I cau sharpen my razor now without- ou.tta»g the strop ia two, and iwnwtisMwi my face would almost m&m now, ttttd tuy ftluin Mil la « mere . . . , . The eitttoma office* wtfifei these t&* 2ors and the ittustache cup, whien I f&t* tied because of ltd associations only, fie thought 1 was intfoduclnK them ititd her majesty's dominion. He thought t Was going to start a barber shop, i presume that there ia a sort of cutthroat appearance about me somehow that makes people suspicious. Some' times I think it is because 1 dress too much. It tiwke» people thittk I am a gambler. London is a good city — on the Canada side. There are 80.000 people there. They are excellent people, too, reminding me very much of Americans. London has a good hotel at the depot. We wrote quite a lot of letters there and posted them in American stamped envelopes. Then we stood around in the cold and bribed the postman to give them back to tin so that we coulcl put Canadian stamps on them, which are three cents apiece, making, five cents laid out on each of our letters. The street cars in London run on runners in winter, and the track is abandoned till the soft breath of spring comes again and kisses back to life and light and song the still and frosty features and the cold, white bosom of the slumbering earth. The Canadian Pacific has its latchstring hanging out for one and all. The passenger agent at London came to ns and wanted to sell tickets to our company, consisting of Mr. Burbank and myself. We said that other roads were competing for ns, and that we were wavering. So he said that if we would travel by his road to Detroit, a ride of over three hours, he would transfer us there to the Michigan Central, pay our hotel bills while in Canada, 'furnish us a year's subscription to London Punch, with key to same, and a pair of beautiful pictures by Rembrandt entitled "Wide Awake" and "Fast Asleep." We accepted, and now 1 will get Punch fregularly at my home. The humor of Punch is very soothing to me. Compared with the peppery wit of the French and the insidious, surprising and stimulating humor of our own country, English humor reminds me of boiled rice. Boiled rice taken in moderation isn't going to hurt any man. It furnishes an excuse for the gestures of eating and rounds out the abdomen to a degree— to several degrees, in fact — yet it does not excite one. It is so with English humor. 1 have known men to apply themselves to English humor for several years and thin out their blood that way so that they prolonged their lives for a long time. A Canadian yesterday spoke to me of John Bull's drink bill, and showed me a li' • ' • chart, which 1 give herewith, showing .ii? comparative sizes of the bills in England for liquor, bread, mill:, tea, coffee, cocoa and education. He said it was creating a great deal of discussion among the politicians. THE LITTLE CHART. Yes, 1 said, I hail heard that they were at lagerheads. Being under the British flag seems to affect my mind, I think. A week ago we stopped for a night at the Banting House, after a long, hard ride in the palatial slumbering car Insomnia. The Banting House is kept by one of those popular men who are not good for anything on earth but just to be popular. When we came in he welcomed us by extending a breath to us across the register upon which we hung our overcoats with impunity. At first 1 did not know why he drank, but after 1 had been at table I saw that anaesthetics of some kind should go with every steak. Everything was neat and clean at the Banting House, The pale, sad wife did the best she could, but Banting himself did the buying, and that's why the steaks didn't yield to climatic influences. You have seen the sad eyed wife of a popular man, no doubt—a man who could have married anybody; he took her "because it would have killed her if he hadn't;" a man with curly hair and a mustache which he pieces out with chin whiskers. He is so popular that he has himself photographed in the panoply of some secret order every time he gets to feeling pretty well. But his wife wears the .same shawl that the last three babies have slept in. He is so popular that people take advantage of his good nature and lead him astray and get him to drinking. That's what he tells his wife. He ia just simply a great big, soft, self indulgent, impalpable ass. That's what lie is, and hia house, everywhere that he has anything to do with it, shows »tingiuess, neglect and incoujpetency. He wore a wooden leg, did Mr. Banting. He permitted me to think he lost it in the war at lirst. Then he went oa to speak more fully of his great loss. I was told afterward that he lost it in de- f'>nse of his honor, such as it was. He was stopping, it seems, over night at the house of a mail who was not at home himself; just only Ms wife, that's all. In the night his involuntary host came home, and thinking it was going t9 t>e Uttle crowded tUqre shot of _ "_""""'___ St.* _.„ ffeat jfc* npt>n toe wilt Wfasn Mf. Banting waaflrawi but of the well by a reporter, wbd eotild draw & wan tmt better than anybody died, if wtta Claimed, ftg doctor told Bafitiiig that fair Wottld have to contribute that leg id F"' mashing feeortt ftttd th$ bUl-wottld- 1 eighty dollars for same. Mr. Banting did not tell me about this, but neighbors did eo, Mr. Bflnt-, Ing, however, was tit little sentimental the morning 1 saw him. He spoke tenderly of his lost leg as we sat together, and ever and anon he tapped the wooden one with the blade of a large pocket* knife with which he had just been removing one of his indestructible steaks from between his teeth. Then he took from his "pocket a piece of bone which had been carried for years in the same pocket with his tobacco. He looked at it sadly. "That," ho said, "come off of the kneepan. It is as good as ever it was. It to the lid of the kneepan." Then be looked out through the window as well as ho could and went on: "1 lost my mother next March is a. year. She always appreciated me. My wife never has. I conld have married my pick of thx- girls of our place, but 1 took Laura because she was purty then, Sho was ono of them girls that fade awful quick, and ibesides she don't appreciate me nor how poplar 1 am." Then he sighed. "Yesterday," he wont on, "I made a solemn journey—a mighty solemn journey." "To your mother's grave, do you mean?" "Yes." "Where is it?" "It is over at East Haddock, abont eighteen miles from here. It may be jest a sentiment with me, for I'm of a sensitive and refined nature naturally,but 1 made a pilgrimage over there yesterday, cold as it was." He paused and rubbed his nose hard with a big red handkerchief, and his voice choked up a little. "Yes," 1 took up my leg that was buried here at the time and"—a slight quiver of the chin—"and buried it over at East Haddock alongside of mother." Quite Appropriate. "They say that Littleby is courting that great tall girl, Miss High." "Yes." "1 should like to see him kissing her good night when he's leaving her." "He never says good night." "No?" "No; he shakes hands \vith her and looks at her and says'so long.'"—Yarmouth Register. $ True Politeness. First Lady—1 saw your husband meet you on Fulton street yesterday, and I noticed that ho removed hia hat while speaking to you. 1 admired him for it. Very few men do that. Second Lady—1 remember. I told him in the morning to have his hair out, and he was showing me that he had obeyed.—Smith & Gray's Monthly. Tho Little Calculator. Hans—How old was Methuselah, auntie? Aunt—Nino hundred years. Hans—And how old are yon, auntie? Aunt—Thirty, my child. Hans (after a moment s reflection)— Then my cousin reckoned wrong by 870 years. He said you were as old as Me- thuselah.—Humoristiche Blatter. She Has 'Em. Our little girl, three and a half years old, has solved the problem of how kisses are made. She says, "I fink of them, they wriggle in my mind, 1 pucker up my lips, and 1 have 'em."—Babyhood. ~——— ——. ——_ — .^ ^ Settled Him. "One dose," said the quack, "will be quite enough; It will quickly'Danish you? pain." The victim took one dose of the staff— : And he never complained again. —Chicago Tribune. ; A Revision, Bellows—Your wife is a "thing of« beauty." ; Fellows (sadly)—And a jawer forever, j —New Yo"k Herald. Reason Enough, "But why did they break off the matob 1 at the last moment? 1 ' | "Oh, the color of his hair killed every-J thing in her trousseau. "—Life. | The Intellectual Han. | Would you learn to tunnel through the hills, i Or solve most knotty problems? Ftod an antidote for all the ills, i Or dissipate hobgoblins? i Ascertain the distance from the start} Far in yonder heavenly span From Jupiter to fabled Mars? Ask the intellectual man. Would you know the protoplasmic! germ That floats within our water? The came of a thousand legged worm, Or that of Pharosi's daughter? Tho fruit that most abundant grows In eastern Htaaostan? Why, reference inake to QUO who koow»-- The intellectual nmn. But it you wish to learn the latest BCQPK Tbe horse tb»t woa tlie jraee; Tha shop tb*t hae the swiogiag door; WMoh f ejlow eets tfee pftce; b»v« fver «>f ies* etetf^

What members have found on this page

Get access to

  • The largest online newspaper archive
  • 8,900+ newspapers from the 1700s–2000s
  • Millions of additional pages added every month

Try it free