Exeter Advocate, 1901-4-18, Page 6WICKED GIRL
BY MARY CECIL
thirds", ---with a bi11iut blus
o it meant to express an -apology
Lor speaking to you of yo -I4 oW4
"Oh, you need, not Mind r,11,a-t. The
late head of my family lied an
co-
alicd averslea to me, and as 1 never
souldbeer to be behind Miles inany-
thing, I. kept .up .with him in 'hatred:
toe.''
"Yee you have chosen to stay
here?"
He read more in the question than
her natural shrpriee, but of course
could not knew thatsher voice W.0,5
stirred by a. wild hope that he might
be here for theeamepurpose as her-
self, and that he toomight be de-
voting himself to the: discovery of
Miles Basset's murderer. .
"I am a writer," he Said,. tersely;
"I Cant, write here as well as else-
where.
The ,explanation he'd crushed her
hope for the moment, but it had
given her a happy feeling, as if
warm ray froni her old lifa had
touched her. Are you really? I
knowso many men who write, But
theri"-hesitatieg—"that is in the
heart of the busy world. Is it peitsible
that"—she paused deepin wonder;
ite her eyes took in the quiet scene,
for she was too young yet to breath
its rest—"you can, compose here. 1
should have thought-,-"
, The rich, half -laughing voice in-
terrupted her. "And you would
have been quite right. Men with,
bhaites need to rub them 9ccasionally,
kgainSt: Others-. I 'tdon't, because'
; have none. When I want to evolve
I anything put of my head, I screw it
1 up in a vinegar bandage. If you 'ever
!chance to meet me, you'll think Fin
Lazarus corning forth. I think it
right to prepare you, ,for I'm se ac-
customedto loneliness. I shall be
'sure to forget the possibility of en-
' countering you,"
"I shall be prepared," she said,
Without the laugh he had 'no:ant to
;Provoke, without even a smile. She
!certainly was conscious of wonder-
ing whether she should find she knew
his books, and whether he Would
ever speak to her of them, but still
her strongest desire was to learn
from him facts that had nothing to
do with his writings.
"Was Mr. Basset a man who would
be likely to have enemies'?" she ask-
ed, making a. new attempt.
"You mean beside his cousin?"
"Oh, yes.'' -
"I should say that if any spirit
were left in his younger brother, he
was Miles's enemy too."
"How dreadful!"
"Yes. Things generally are."
"I was thinking to-day"—the
cart was so surely though slowly
reaching the mill, that Derry, feeling
that her vanishing opportunities
must be grasped and made the most
of, was hurriedly • trying .a new be-
ginning, "what an .unusual name his
sister has. Don't you think Prim-
rose a beautiful naane?"
"Perhaps it is: For myself I
don't go in for primnesS when I can
get the rose without it." ,
"She is very lovely, is not she?"
"Yes, in a steel engraving sort of
way.''
"Did. her brother love her?"
"Presumably. At least I do not
see why we 'should imaghae he did
not. But—presumably, also—he
.better loved another very pretty girl
—painted on ivory—to whinin he,
was to be married in a few weeks'
time. Poor fellow! Poor girl!"
"You mean Ella Hope? Youknow
her then?"
"Yes, I know Miss Hope a little,
She suits me. I find it saves so
much wear and tear to know exact-
ly before hand what a girl will Say..
There are times when, she is a little.
wearisome, but that is net my own
fault, because I have not comfort-
ably ascertcuined whether she affects
unaffectedness, or only as a vacuum
where affectation ought to be."
She does not affect anythingfihe
is always good and natural," cried
Derry, her eyes ablaze. 'But I de-
serve this for iny persistent .ques-
tioning of you. She is my sister."
"Is she?" asked the young man
composedly.. "I said she was very
pretty, and she Is." ,
"But you also said what,was not
true.".
"I often 'do. Here is the house.
see Mrs. Frayd has ceme to the
door to welcome you, ::Misa--•;--Hope.
Try always to ;invent some plausible
diversion at her earliest : full, , stop,
for I ,assure. you the Ancient . Mariner
was a reticent party 'compared with
Mrs. Frayd, Ah!" .
The gate into the mill inclosure
had , been opened for them .by,
dressed, middle-aged man; who had
been le,aning on it, and: who raised
his hat as they passed through, di-
recting an, interrogatory glance , at
Mr. Basset.
"All right,". that gentleman ob.
served. "'I. will ,stroll back here and
speak to ycia." •
"That," he tersely explained to
Derry, "is a detective."
"Oh, 1 am so gla,d.," she cried,
"Then .people are .doing 'something- to
discover the truth. It is my one
great, absorbing desire."
"What a. pity," Inziiy,-as thc.. porn,
walked to the door;' "women --7: es-
pecially .girls, and more especially
frank girls 'are not cut out for
that sort of thing. 1: would drop -ail
thotight of itif I were you. Take my
advice-. though Why on :earth
should ' you t4ke my - advice? -_--- and
don't tronblaSkeitie':Yonng .head with
Such horrors.'':
I must ahe answered with grave
steadfastness, "It IS right."
"Oh the contrary, it is Wrong,"
was the serene reply. "I Shall lift to
finger to help those idiots."
"If I were anian,. I Would never
test tili the neurdeter• is punished,"'
she Oiled,- fully aware,' next moment
what ample excuse he Would have
for .at hee.,impatieriti: worth-
less words, But he did net Stine.
She eVen fancied that his eYeS had an
anxious light in there When lie coolly
lifted her froin the little cert.
"Olt, Miss 'Ope, I haVd been so
upset," ejaculated Derry'landlady,
leading her .in-dOeit... been
Warning, Myself for not having told
Mrs. rates about it, but really She
gave Me no Utile, She waS in OnOlt
'itrry.,t6 'get haek to is YOU
sea, Atne,e,had.'.te Meet Mr, •BASSet
by that traiils anO. ui My' litt10
, _
car -
h rlagg only 'olds two, 0 course A11103
had to give up his place, I Was SO
S0117, It was suet: a pity to have
you put out so, just OD your first
evening,
"But why are you sorry?" asked
the girl, wondering to herself whetiV
er she could really have been put
out, and whether that aecounted for
it all.
"Because, you see, Miss 'Ope"
in lowered tones — "Mr. Basset is
constant smoker, and 1 fejt, you
mightn't like nearly four utiles of
tobacco. And more than that" —
in
lower, and more concentrated tones
----"he does so 'ate WOLT1-1adies."
"1 see," the girl said, with per-
fect comprehension.
"les, I see," she said again to her-
self, half an hour later, as she look-
ed from the window. For she saw.
Steven Basset, his brown head bare,
and a brown pipe in his moeth, lean-
ing lazily against the gate as he lis-
tened to the detective, evidently re-
veling in the fact that his companion
was not a woman.
(cowls:Num)
Sion — not to mention my antece
dents, and my ambition in taking
'this seat instead ee Amos."
"1 beg your pardon for not listen
i'ng to you. Who is Amos?"
-The factotum of Harraek's Bea
eon, where 1 have billeted myself
,People call it Harrack's to save
"I am going to lodge fliere,"
'It, struck her afterward that
/she had expected him to say
;he was delighted, because it was
;such a surprise when he merely in -
;quire, i with tranquility what she
supposed she should find to do at
,Harrack'e Deacon.
"What do you do?"
“Ie Heaven knows. Sleep is a
great resource,"
"Indeed it is," with readiness. "I
am happily a sleepy person. Why is
q't called Harrack's Beacon?"
"There used to be a church on the
spot, and sailors knew its tower as
,one of the Channel Deacons. Long
years ago the reigning Atheling blew
up the old church, that he might
'have a pretty site—separate 'from
ithe Tower, yet within reach of it --
to build a church for an imbecile
child and his attendants.
"There always seemed a curse upe
on the house, though, and 'at last
none of the Athelings would live
• there, and they sold it. One and an-
other tried it, and gave it up 'after
sore distress, until. Harrack—who-
ever he may have 'been—bought 'it
and hopefully raised a windmill close
to it. All sorts of things happened
to that mill ,that never happened to
'any other, until the sails were gone,
as well as Harrack's business, and
the white mill stood useless. But
then it became a beacon., as the old
church tower had been, and from
tnat time things grew better, and
every one knew that Barrack had
appeased the devil by this human-
itarian use of his mill."
. -Should you have fancied," she
asked, "the devil would have troubl-
ed himself to resent the destruction
of a house Of prayer?"
, "A man may fancy, but the fact re -
Mains. Ile did, and was only con-
soled by this humanitarian use of
the mill. You see we haven't been
understanding him yet. To this day
if any Atheling enters the mill, he
collies in the form of a huge black-
bird a,nd fetches him on her way."
'But their are no Athelings now."
"Not in name, but quite enough of
the old stock still."
. -What a good. thing • we are uot
Athelings, as we stay in Harrack's
Deacon."
''It is good—for you," he said,
looking straight before him.
"Who lives --I do not mean lodges
—at Harra.ck's?"
"Mrs. Frayd. May we oblige each
other by avoiding the palpable pun
and assume, without saying so, that
she is always afraid—of that thing
of evil, whether bird or devil?"
"Who elite?"
'.'Penkus—Woredsievorth eve•ote for
Iter, if you recollect—'A child with
a most knowing eye.' Shall I put
you out of your suspense by giving
you the information I have had to
slowly acquire? She was baptiz...d
Pentecost. Then there is the facto-
tum Amos Pickett, from -whom 1 so
cruelly parted you in Thawton, and
—there it is," pointing with his
whip to where the ivy-covered trunk
of a disused wind -mill stood upen
the height. ''We have to turn
abruptly up to it from Dewring. The
gradual ascent keyond is the Tower."
At the mention of that word the
girl suddenly began to be aware that
she had wasted a valuable opportun-
ity. "Is the Tower far from Bar -
rack's?" she asked, her voice act-
ually tremblieg ih her anxiety to re-
trieve the loss of time.
"I -thought so until I found that
bn the night of the murder at the
Tower the din of the alarm -bell there
Was not heard at Harrack's. I sup -
Pose the wind was against it."
"I should think," shuddering, "you
Were glad you did not hear it."
"I came to Dewring next day."
"Then you were not in the neigh-
borhood at the time of the murder?"
"Not at Harrack's," he answered,
so briefly that her cheeks burned; yet
for all her sensitive pride, she turn-
ed round to him with a look of quiet
iletermination.
"Do you object to hearing of --
that?"
"Why should I?" he asked, turn-
ing also and looking her square in
the eyes. .
And there and then she made up
Eier mind that this was a really ugly
team with hollow cheeks and untidy
hair, and eyes that were fierce as
well as in -"elancholy. It was not up -
til she had the sun to aid her scru-
tiny that she discovered how. 'with
all its lines ---and they were not a
few for a man of thirty-five—there
kvas no single line of weakness in the
tugged face, and that at all times
tevert Basset had that indescribable
air of breeding which no man can
counterfeit.
"Are they it proud family-- arra-
tante I mean, and likely to offend
people?" sho asked, feeling her Way
Etnxiously, not to waste the precious
tninutes :they should occupy itt
Mounting the steep lane tip which—
lterhaps for the la2,y pony's' sake,
perhaps for her own, in any case to
Ihe girl's delight—her driver was
patting the pony creep as he stronld.:
"Surely you will allow they ought
to be, as they can bear their crest,
anon their cap of maintenance. You
tinderstand?"
'Of eourse."
arn glad of that. I can't say
"You don't like them?" ask -ed the
girl, gravely. •
"Them! Would , you sweep the
kehOle fartily away in one liking?
!onfess to a sneaking affection for
rlyself, and I are one Of theni."
"Ohl"
"That tone strikes Inc as very ex-
6ressivp; but what does it eXpress,
I may aSk?'1-
PART III.
CHAPTER T.
Derry's cheeks were blushing under
the wintery morning's ' kiss, when,.
after an early run, she reached the;
top of the,steep lane up to Harraek's
Peaeon, and, making her pace more
decorope through the inclosure, stop-
ped at the 'door by which she remem-
berecyeaaing .her rebni; -Its upper
half' was glass, serving the purpose
of a window, its lower half painted
in a dingy shade of chocolate, and
she remembered -what -an obstinate
objection ithad niade to open, and
how she had wrestled with it before
starting. Now she •was glad she had
left it unlatched,' and, passing in,
she did not trouble „herself to wrestle
inside, but left it again ajar. She
had returned to breakfast by the
hour she had ordered it, but forget-
ting all about the meal, she stood
before the fire, thinking how little
she had accomplished 'by that morn-
ing investigation. "Yet," she said,
in her thoughts, as she threw down
her muff and gloves, holding her
palms to the blaze though she was in
a glow, 'I surely couldn't have ex-
pected to find people standing thickly
about these forsaken roads on pur-
pose to deal out information to me,
which others have sought in vain.
Well, I've seen how the Tower lies
from here, and I've had two little
conversations, and I must be con-
tent --- so far."
The morning air had given her an
appetite, yet, standing on the rug,
she began lazily to wonder why Mrs.
Frayd should, even in her, lodger's
absence, have changed, for a certain
oblong mirror, with a green gauze
veil shrouding the frame, which last
night had crowned the mantel -piece,
an illustration of various' . admirals
on board ship, ' all obviously, dying
through the rigidity of their shirt -
frills. Had she, Derry, been so bar-
barous as to utter aloud any of the
melancholy thoughts which had pos-
sessed her, when she bad caught her
face in that looking -glass, and seen
it aged into three times, her twenty-
two years, and as green as the veil
over the frame? Assuredly she had
never intended to hurt Mrs. Frayd's
feelings by suggesting any alteration
in the room, yet the glass had dis-
appeared and in its stead hung this
cluster of dying officers. Then she
ben to realize that the chimney or-
naments had been changed too, for
her glance fell upton one which she
was certain she could not have over-
looked on the precious evening --a
photograph of Mrs. Frayd, smiling
blandly out of, a cheap and showy
frame.. Derry amused herself by prac-
ticing an hantation of this candid
grin, until her thoughts had wander-
ed from it down so many little side-
ways, that she had forgotten all
about it, when she became suddenly
and startlingly aware of another new
ornament on the mantel -shelf, a short
brown pipe. Even before her first
alarm had shaped itself to her, sho
turned and scrutinized the room. The
truth was clear in a moment. This
was not her room at all,
Too much shocked to see the humor
of the position, or to be as fully
grateful as she presently would be
that she had left the door ajar, she
crept noiselessly away; and that
blush the morning air had
given her , was almost pallor
compared with the red that scorched
her cheeks as, on her way to a similar
door a few, yards higher Up, she be-
came, aware of a figure strolling with
most suspicious unconsciousness --
quite too conspicuous to be natural.
--in a direction markedly away front
the, adjoining. door. Entering the
haven of her own room, she rat
down before the old looking -glass: in
its veiled frame, with a feeling of
gratitude too profound even to nllovv-
her to smile. During breakfast her
mind, was 'deeply exercised between
two rdesires---not to betray her faux
Pas to Mrs. Frayd; if that lady were
not already aware of it ---and not to
attempt to concealment if she -were.
When the Meal was oven, and her
landlady was taking away the
things,. Derry looked at her again
and again trying to read the, truth,
but the WOnian'scount6ntance was a
blank—it had even no memory of,
the photograph's smile!—and ,lier
monologue, though blandly continu-
ous, betrayed no knowledge of any
abnormal step her lodger had taken.
When it came to the.last minute, and
Mrs. Frayd, still talking. fluently,
was replacing with mathematical
precision, on :the round table, two
hair mats' which might have been
Indian scalps, Derry's patience conld
hold out no longer, and he told of
her mistake, ,
"Yes, miss, I know," observed
Frayd, equably.
"I-Iow?" gasped Derry, her desire
to laugh battling with her desire to
turn out her ,landlady.
"I saw Mr, Baeset walk in there
and come out, again like a Shot, and
so quiet, and he told nee not to ge
in; I knew by that, miss,"
For one moenent the girl's cheek
bternecl again, seeing in this a proof
of consideration for her feelings; in
the next her landlady ruthletsly ex-
plained: "It's such, a pity he ,.%.ites
wom--ladies; isn't it?"
think," remarked. Derry, hoe
••(ro 15latilfTiNtfen,)
SELECTING A HORSE.
POINTS FOS GUIDANCE IN CHOOSING
A STALLION.
Getteral Dwaine Characteristics to
ne Considered Concerning the
Dead and Ear—QualitY Better Tliuu
Size.
The buyer seeking to provide himself
with a horse to breed either to his own
mares or to those of his neighbors for
fees must not rest content with finding
one that is sound or nearly so and large
boned. There are many other points
in which the horse must excel if lie is
to prove a satisfactory breeder, says
The Breeder's Gazette. A few of these
points have been mentioned previous-
ly, but in closing this series of articles
it will be well to cover some of them
once more.
To begin with, the stallion must look
like a stallion. Some really good breed-
ing horses have had effeminate necks
PRINCE GOODWIN, CLYDESDALE.
Zind heads --old Holland Major is a case
in point—but as a rule it is the horse
with a stallion' lc, bend and pres.
ence that stamps his own image on his
progeny. The neck must be properly
set into a pair of sloping shoulders to
give it and the head the right "set."
The head ought not to be too small nor
should tbe enesbe too fine. Tbe droop-
ing piglike ear is to be avoided, but if
a horse has a big ear that sits up prop-
erly when cocked and does not droop
when in rest he should not be faulted
for it.
The little fine pointed ear set close to ,
its mate and right on top of the head
is as bad as the "sow lug" and always
comes with a narrow forehead betoken-
ing a braialess animal prone to rash-
ness and meannesses of all kinds. Get '
a horse with a good, bony, sensible
head, mom nen , but rol c, iarge eye,
broad forehead and ears of fairly large
size well set forward and looking to
round out a harmonious whole. The
neck must be well risen. If it is not—
that is, if the crest is lacking—the
will not look altogether like a stal-
lion. On the other hand, avoid too
thick and "bully" a neck. There must
be length to the neck corresponding to
the range of the body. The very short
necked horse, though of good size him-
self, Is apt to beget too many chunks
and too few drafters.
These particulars are gone into so
fully for the reason that the writer has
heard a lot of nonsense and Many false
ideas voiced by purchasers of stallions.
Many of them seemed to be looking for
deformed animals—stallions with the
heads of 1,200 pound geldings. This
will not do at all. The bead must be in
every way proportionate to the body
or -the animal will lack sense in some
way, and when a stallion does that he
ipsronpoetrtoy.nly undesirable, but dangerous
It is not so much the intention to de-
scribe in detail the points that go to
make up the good horse as to suggest
certain things that are essential to the
good breeder. Along this line let us say
first that the stallion with a weak and
narrow loin is to be religiously tabooed.
He will never prove a success, and the
entire world is defied to show i good
breeding horse weak in his loins. A
lone* back is not necessarily a weak
one, but as a rule weakness of loin goes
with length of back and lightness of -
flank. Again, avoid the horse with the
latter fault, a light flank. To this are
always joined short back ribs. The
horse formed in that way will turn out
a poor feeder, a hard keeper and liable
to attacks of colic and ,kindred trou-
bles. Get a stallion with an ample
bread basket—plenty of space in which
to put his three or four cir"tive meals a
day and take perfect care of them after
he gets them tucked away.
Look well to the width behind. A
horse that is fairly broad on top and
then slopes gradually inward to his
gaskins is a bad one. A few horses are
in mind right now that otherwise were
very good, but were entirely spoiled by
being too light In the thighs. This fault
seems to run in families to a very great
extent and comes back and back, so
that it must be guarded against and
bred against whenever practicable.
As before noted, the stamp and style
of the horse are the prime requisites
after size enough has been found. We
will emphasize the statement that if
the horse is big and sound or practical-
ly so he will do the purchaser no good
tmless be is of the right kind. Never
bay a great big rough brute simply be-
cause be is big,.
Regarding pedigree, any horse that is
registered in any of the recognized stud
books of the ptesent •day may be ac-
cepted as well enough bred to act as an
Improving agent it he is individually
what is wanted.
Visited Voir Its Dinner.
"Lookhr• over nay neighbor's fence
one day," says a lover of animals, ''l
was surprised to see on his doorstep
these queer companions: A beautiful
white sea gull and my neighbor's pet
ent sitting quietly together.
' Becoming interested, I jumped the
fence and asked Jones about his feath-
ered pet. Ile told me that some boys
had shot the gull a few days before
and broken its wing, and as thaY were
passing his house be noticed the Poor,
suffering thing ana bought it. He ban-
daged the broken wing, and the gull,
seeming to understand his kind inten-
tions,, became quite tame and nestled
its pretty bead against his hand.
"Jones entertained me by showing
how the gull usually took his meals.
Bringing a plate of oysters and a fork,
he called Goosey, goosey, gooseyr and
the bird came running to him. Thea
he held out no oyster on the fork and
the gull seized it quickly with its yel-
low bill and ate it as demurely as if
oysters had been served to it in this
way all of its days.
"The oddest thing occurred one day
When my uel,glihor gave the gull seine
small pieces of meat for dinner. He
placed the meat on the ground near
the gull, but the gull, espying a pan of.
water near by, took the meat 'piece by
piece and, walking over, dropped it
into the water. Then, true to its na-
ture, it began fishing for its dinner."
I.,ast Cargo of Slaves.
Captain Foster Was the commander
of the slave ship Clotilda that brought
the last cargo of slaves to the United
States. The trip. was made only after
many thrilling scenes requiring weeks
Neting and dangerous
exploits. Just before the north and
south engaged in war Captain Foster
built the Clotilda and announced that
he would make a trip to the gulf of
Guinea despite the fact that United
States war vessels had burned and
sunk the ships of many who tried the
voyage. He was warned repeatedly of
the dangers attached to such an under-
taking, but he equipped his ship and
sailed
He reached the African coast after
going out of his course many times and
t remained along the coast for a month.
He succeeded in getting 100 negroes on
board before he was detected by the
watchful vessels of the United States.
Feeditig gaga In Fingland•
Hogs in England are given a great
variety of feeds—potatoes, tinalips, car-
rots, beets, peas, beans, barley- and
oats. Tile grain is either steamed or
ground and the vegetables usually
cooked and mixed with swill. Grasses
and clovers are cut arid fed (luring
Summer tittle. English hogs tend mare
to the bacon ' type than 'do those raised
in America. If lean meat Is wantetl,
We must feed a greater variety, and sp•
tect muscle forming .foodS.,
He was pm -sued, but easily outdis-
tanced his pursuers, and two months
later arrived in Mobile bay with his
human cargo. A steamboat met the
slaveship during the night, and the
negroes 'were transferred in order to
avoid the custom house officials. Cap-
tain Foster set his vessel on 'fire and
passed through Mobile without being
.• •
hunted for him for months, but he
eluded them until the close of the war,
when he retired from the sea.
Tipping the Butcher.
Did you ever buy your own steaks
ancl get the, worst in the shop, nearly
every time? An old friend has had
that misfortune, and he is always will-
ing to pay two or three cents more a
pound than any other customer. Hav-
ing listened calmly to his tale of woe,
inquired 11 he had acquired thc
practice of tipping the butcher: Tip-
ping the butcher? No! He thought
' • ' •
two or three cents more a pound.
"That offer," I tried to explain, "goes
to the proprietor direct, or his block
man thinks you are trying to make a
thief of him by Inducing him to bold
out for hhnself the. It wili
never work.
"Just say to your cutter: 'See here,
old chap, I've been dissatisfied with
my steaks for some time. Come out
and take a drink, anti tell me how to
select good meat.' He's too busy.
Then slip a dime into his Mad and
say, 'Have a glass of beer when you
get out,' or a quarter and say, 'Have a
smile with mc. when you have time.'
Repeat this performance and presently
your steahs are the dclbgbt
In the busiest private market in New
York it is the rule to tip the butchers.
You can get nothing fit to eat with-
out it."
Not an Educated Dog. '
In the "Floresta Espanola" of Mel-
chior de Santa Cruz the author has an
anecdote of Cardinal Pedro Goncalez
That prelate noticed that one of the
priests in his retinue, a Biscayan, car-
ried a short sword under his cloak.
The cardinal reproved him and told
him that it was wrong for a cleric to
carry arms. The Biscayan replied that
he carried the weapon to defend him-
self if he were attacked hy a dog. The
cardinal said that In case he saw a dog
•
running'at him he should begin to re-
cite from the /gospel of St. John. The
priest acknowledged that this was a
good way, but held to the dagger, "be-
cause there are some dogs who do not
understand Latin."
Two Ways of Welting.
MrS. BibbS--I declare! You men can't
write a letter unless you have a regu-
lar desk, and office chair and big• blot-
ting pad and I don't know what all.
Mr. Bibbs—Yes, aud is woman may
have a $200 writing desk, with every-
thims, to mateh, and yet She'll sit down
on a stool and write on an old book.
lInde Sore of the Pie.
A young girl who carried her dinner
was observed to eat ter pie first. When
asked why, she replied, "Well, if there's
'anything left It won't be the pie, will
it new?"
The typiral Moro is never unarmed.
tIe fights equally well on foot, op
horseback, in his fleet war canoe or in
ilie water, for he swfinS like a fish and
dives like is penguin.
Before the discovery of sugar drInkS
were sweetened with honey,„
TO STOP A FEUD.
%Ike Only Way to 1{10;e Peace pe..;
tvvnen dniklnlion and Robiatoon-
As we sat smoking our pipes by thcp,
fireplace I ventured to say to mine hot
that I had heard of the feud between.
the Johnsons and 'the Robinsons and
asked him to tell me how it caMe
about. He scratched his head and
looked puzzled and finally said:
forgot. Reckon it was about a dawg."
d a mule of his
"It's ,a good way hack, was "That's what I've heard—that youri
dog chase
feeding in front of your house. Robin-
son got mad about it, you had higli
words, and then the feud began evhiclit
has lasted 18 years. Is it true?"
"Ileckon that's the way of it," lie
slowly replied.
"There wasn't much in that to quar.
rel about?"
4'13ut two or three people have
killed on either side on account of it, I
understand?"
"Three on one side and two oa
t'other," he answered after collating o0.
his fingers, "and two more wounded."
He seemed so calm and good na-,
tured about it ;that' I thought I miglat
goirlf3Iniretih'
eerBfloi1 llit,adfotnel;a ita
t you tllsd
itekthis
quarrel ought to be fixed up?" '
"Might be," he replied as he gazed In.
to the tire in a blank. way.
"Suppose, -for instane-e, that I volun..
te:e:kR•vioallway N1dy
S::or e efluS you
mediator?"
ggest-that I go to
work to bring peace between the twa
fatuities?"
The old man rose up and took the,
tongs.a.m.1 replaced a brand which had
fallen on the hearth and then sat down
and asked:
"Do you know where Robinson lives?",
"Yes; three miles up the road." •••
"Kin you shute?"
"Fairly well."
"Waal, you take your gun and sot
out fur Robinson's. Glt the hull crowd
from the old man down to the last
young un into the house tincl then fas-
ten all the doors and begin poppin at
threw the Ivinders. Keep it up till
the last one has tuined up his toes 'and -
when you come back with the newS,
thar'll be an end to the quarrel, and
we'll hey peace." AL Qu_A.D.
'What Be Wanted.
"Now," said the celebrated designer
who had been called in by the new
bil-
lionaire to talk over plans for a $500,-
000 yacht, "we have come to an under-
standing concerning the size of the
craft, but what about the bulwarks and
hatchways
"Bull works!" exclaimed MY. Wad-
hams. "I don't want no bull works.
This ain't a-goln to be no cattleshlp,
and as for hatchways, gol durn it, I'
don't want any of 'em aboard. Just,
you see about is place fer a good big
icebox and don't pay no 'tention to in-
cubators or anything of the kind. No
shicken on this boat! I want you to
sinderstand, b'gosh, that I don't eat
iothin cheaper'n quail with feathers on
loNv'days."-
Gave Dim Leave to Print.
"Mildred," spoke the elder of the two. 4
.Ndth much sternness, "I have reason ta
,hink you still correspond with that
worthless young Billiwink in spite of
111 your father and I have said."
"Mother," returned the young wont -
'0, meeting the maternal gaze with the
fearlessness of conscious innocence, "I"
have not had a scratch of a pen from
him since you, bade me cast him off.",
, Later, however, she said to herself,
"If she had accused me • of getting'
typewritten letters from him, though,
she would have had me."—Chicago
Tribune.
The Real Thing.
The Suitor ---Here, on in knees, 1
place this ring upon your finger.
love goes out to you.
The Coquette—But bow. do I know it
is genuine?
The Suiter—My love is as genuine as
the blush on your cheek.
The Coquette—Bother the . love! I
mean the ring.
Welcome Horne
Hungry Higgins—De last time I vis-
ited me old home dey gimme a public
reception.
Weary Watkins—Speeches?
"On'y one. Judge he says '30 days.'"
--Indianapolis Press.
Ile Was Used to It.
Mother—Willie, you really must g�
to the dentiSt'S and have two or three
teeth out.
Little Totiatiale--And I s'pose when
Willie's throng!). with 'em I'll have to
use 'em!
Gobbled the Ca911.
'nePOrtOr—I a/D told that your trust•
ed cashier lias left, the bank?
Bank I'resident--Did he? Thank:
lleavenS we have the building to start
‘vith agalnl-
Kttelv the Cense.
Giggiet.on-;-I nearly died last night. ,
Parlzer—W131cli one of your joked Waar
Xou tellIng?—Tit-Bits.