The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 18, 1903, Page 14

PIN G IN h of These them readily, or you can shoot the ekets. Don’t attempt to except at close quarters. They on the triggers, so when you sre and keep the muzzle down.” remarked the other committee- e quarters you will find 1—" and he pulled from his a long, glittering, ivory handled knife, and lald it upon the bed Dowis alongside the pistols. For a moment I suspected my callers of induiging in a practical joke at my ex- pense, but a look at their faces convinced me that they were In dead earnest. ev- ertheless the ridiculous side of this *‘wel- come to California” struck me keenly, d I.could not help laughing as I replied: ank you kindly, gentlemen: 1 shall preserve your valuable presents as sou- venirs of your political vigilance and per- 5 sonal friendship, but really I shall feel RemarKable safer if I carry them {n my trunk rather than in my pockets.” B sk I was not troubled, however, elther by Articles. e challenge or a street attack. Under | mittee I made sixty-two speeches, mos! the auspices of the State Central Com- y The Democrats + e - 4 in the mountain counties. in California were eaually divided be- tween those who supported Breckinridge i Ber UP- and those who supported Douglas, the ma to San first being designated in the poll iz 1860, con- gan of the day as the s he ongers sev- the latter as the “Shovelry.” Glbert A. - from the OGrant. who managed the Republican State & oo committee, declared that there were two na and in the yn4s of Democ those who threatenad smoking nade deck to shoot the top of your head off and p " . A glass- those who promised to knock the stuffing eyed a schoolmaster en out of you. It was this same gentlemen mis i me to discuss Who was appealed to by his colleagues to v I probably ¢ with them in removing from ¥ an electoral ticket a nomince ew us licted in Michigan for accey Keep him on,” growled e the largest ° siasm of the of the adage the gen for Judge celved a visit 1 where I was rs of the State from your challenge unt of ne of d challenges ot bly in your case 1£,” said the fi ng from his pock- \ger pistols. “These are " said he. *You had each outside pocket for Thomas in m an unne Hos. m on, he will strengthen ticket )LA! of his constituents have horses.” never forget my introduction to ), now a flourishing ection of a few houses Bidwell's mill. The r in the afternoon and attended by hundreds of farmers, of whom had come many miles for Republican newspaper and the posters an- g were prlmcd at the gl organ, through accident or with mali nse the abbreviation of Thos name was divided by and printed as “T. essary Fitc rman ha we have guished orator, lately right Hon. T. Hos Fitch. Though g In years he was one of the editors waukee Free Democrat, and he many scurrilous atticies in can party. He is ou have heard him ill conclude that he is not only a whole team. He spoke the Oro nd ne never all my life, did I lsten ‘to such cent collection of platitudes.” ornia 4id not lack for political ora- The work of a canva uous then than now was not a railroad in the State except the line journeys were The mee open alr, ing of standing for hours to listen to a speaker of their choice. Sacramento to Folsom, and made in Concord coaches. ngs were usually held in the and the auditors thought noth- from Among the brilliant speakers on the Southern side was Harry I. Thornton. It may heen the loss of his beautif wife within a have been modesty and it may have indifference and it may have been and accompished vear after their marriage that caused him to abandon the politi career in which before the war he had o successfully embarked, and which he dropped utterly upon his return to Cali- Confederate army. As an orator he had few equals and no superior in the Demo- cratic ranks, and as a nisl prius lawyer in my opinion he outranked John Garber, whose partner he was and in whose shad- ow he lived. Fervid in speech, felicitous in phrase, magnetic in his influence upon his hearers, quick to see and occupy & coign of vantage, relentless in the com- bats of the forum ana yet kindly in cour- tesy to his opponents, he was, indeed, & gentieman of the old school. “There was high gambling in Richmond in the spring of 1865, sald Harry in re- ply to a question. never induiged but once. I went Into a faro room, bet $20,000 on the jack, won it and left.” What did you do with the money?” asked a friend. “I bought a pair of boots with it,” replied Harry. Henry Edgerton was one of the most brilliant orators and most fascinating men that ever delighted public audiences in the Golden State. His voice in public speech was magnetic, his presence im- posing, his manner modest, and his matter original. In the art of ridi- culing an opponent he had no superior, “The gentleman observes,” said Edger- ton in the course of a legislative debate, t he fears no man who, like himself, »f woman born. He exalts himself un- duly. He is endeavoring to obtain credit for manhood under false pretenses. He is not the offspring of a woman; he was born of a brass foundry.” Of an editor who slandered him, Edgerton sald: ‘‘He lies by day and he lies by night, and he lies for the very lust of lying.” Of the epeech in a secession convention of a dis- tinguished San Francisco lawyer of dark complexion, curly hair. and Hebraic fea- tures and name, Edgerton sald: “This man states that he would not be true to all the glorious recoliections of his an- In that position you fornia after four ye service In the cestry if his sympathies were not with -t ON THE HOT WAVE’S CREST . L , 19 OUNG Dr.James tight- ened up his belt with< a scowl, as he heard the ambulance gong sound. The little tents which dotted the grounds of the hospital were already filled with , by T. C. McClure. ] victims (‘Y the heat. His own head whirled and his pulse throbbed violently, and there were four hours of relentless fore the scorching city. bulance rolled lightly and light nolselessly er the porte cochere of the great hospital, and then, with its clang of warning, threaded its w: between trucks and delivery wagons. Peo- h curiosity not unmixed with awe re was no telling whose turn would come next. And, unmindful of their stare, Dr. James sat on one of the lengthwise seats, with his feet stretched on the one opposite and continued to scowl. Nothing but heat prostrations, a cut head or so, and Innumerable cases of cholera infantum had come his way since he was put In charge of the ambulance. The deadly monotony was getting on his nerves. He hated the interminable round of remedies, the whimpering babies and the whining mothers. This was not the energetic, surgical work he had seen be- fore him during his hospital term. He wondered If, after all, the doctor's life @id not hold a deal of drudgery. .And the path to fame and success was bound to be strewn with years of monotony. It all might have been very different if Maude Allen had stood by him—had mar- ried him when, in his impetuous tashion, be had asked her to come to the city with him. and live on the slender income which came to him through his uncle's estatc. But she bad said that he must first show his mettle. She lacked faith in bim, and, like all women, she was not content to help a fellow work his way, but would be guite ready to enjoy the fryits of his sucpess. That was the way when a girl's father had money, and the man who loved her had few as , except a clever brain and a prospective career. No doubt she was enjoying herself this very moment at some seaside resort, with a string of silly summer men paying her sillier compli- ments. He hadn’t written to her and he wouldn't until he had something to show, and then, perhaps, he would not care. All of which were exceedingly bitter thoughts to be indulged in by a fine looking young chap dressed in white duck, and bowling slong in the finest electric ambulance in the great city. He pulled himself together and shouted to the driver. *“Hey, Bill, where in time are we go- e cars ple eyed it w “To Stinton’s wholesale millinery shop. Bet there's half a dozen girls tumbled under. It's h—] under that skylight where they trim. We got a dozen cases grom there last summerg "~ By A.S. Rxchnrdson Dr. James leaned back moodily, and the ambulance swung round a corner, then stopped before the entrance of a high factory building. A policeman stood guard at the door. “Right up the elevator, Doc. Pretty nasty case, I guess. They’'ve been work- ing over her gquite a bit.”" “And doing the worst things possible, 1 suppose,” growled the young medical man, as he stepped into the elevator. The er and policeman followed with the stretcher. Up they shot, past floor after floor, where the whirring of machines sounded like the emphasized waves of heat. On the top floor girls sewed pant- ingly amidst the silks and velvets which were being worked into new fall millinery for the trade. The heavy fabrics added to their discomfort, but they barely looked up as the surgeon passed, though one of their number lay silent ar mo- tionless in the private office. It was all in the day’'s work. Dr. James entered the fittle room. The green shades had been drawn tight. A woman leaned over a figure stretched on the floor, with ice on the wrists and head. Dr. James jerked up the shade, and the pitiless sunlight shot across the floor and rested on the deathlike face. The police- man and the driver reached the door just in time to hear a groan, which came not from the patient, but from the young doctor. He turned as white as his new- found patient. dropped on his knees and went to work with lips set grimly and nerves that quivered. “How long has she been llke this?” “Half an hour,” faltered the fore- ‘woman, frightened at his savage tones. “God!” murmured the doctor; then he issued some sharp orders to his assf ants, and the girl was raised with a ten- derness new to the ambulance surgeon, and, as the bearers turned to leave, he sald to the forewoman harshly: “Give me a cloth.” He covered her face. The gaping crowd should not see her, As they passed out to the elevator he still grasped the wrist of the forewoman. “What is she doing here?” The thoroughly frightened woman re- plied, stammeringly: ““Working, sir; we don't know much about her, sir. She's seen better days, but she tries awful hard.” Would that elevator never reach the ground floor? And was that hospital at the other end of the city? Every minute was precious now. He leaned toward the dstver. “Clip it up, BiL" And Bill turned on more power. They swung round the last corner before reach- ing the hospital. and a terrific rumbling sound greeted their ears, mingled with shouts and screams. It was all over in a second—the runaways, attached to the heavy dray, dashed straight into the am- bulance. The driver hurtled through the air. Dr. James felt & blow somewhere, there was an instant of blankness, then he realized that he was stumbling biindly toward the sidewalk with that deathlike figure in his arms, and something very hot lrlrkl!ng, lrl(kllng lnln his eyes. . kil * e It was two d1\~ before ll all came back to him, clear and suffocating as an awful nightmare. He clutched the nurse's hand. Where Is she?"” Who aude—Miss Allen—"" “Oh, maybe you mean the girl you snatched out of the ambulance just in tim Sh's coming, round, I guess, gh she had a dreadful prostration.” I must see her at once,” he said in his old, peremptory fashion. The nurse laughed. “Well, just until you can raise your head from the pfilow. You get a medal or honor-’ able mention for that work, Mr. James, You are quite the hero of the hospital.” alt THE SUNDAY CALL. . “THERE WERE TWIKINDS OF DEMOCRATS= THSSE WHo E S “THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD OFF AND THOSE WHO PROMISED TO KNQOCK THE STUFFING OUT OF YOU.. “l want something more than medals,” said the young doctor, grimly. Then, while the nurse wondered, he fell asleep. It was two days more before he could be pulled Into Maude's room, and very white and 1l he looked, propped up in his invalid chair. But they settled the mat- ter then and there, for Maude told him how she had wanted to walit, merely to see that he had not inherited his father's weakness and lack of ambition, and how, when heryfather had died suddenly, leav- ing his affairs badly entangled, she had left all for the creditors and come to the big city to lose herself in the one line of work for which she felt fitted. And when Billy heard about it all he said If his broken leg mended in time he proposed to be best man, because he'd carried the young surgeon to his lady love if she was a half-dead one. —_——— Electrons are actual particles of matter, 0 Infinitely smail that a microscope with 1,000,000 times the capacity of the most powerful instrument now in existence could not discover them. & AND REFLECTION S @F THOMAS FITCH the South in this struggle Who were his ancestors? If he traces his lineage to its inception he will find that while one of his forefathers was clamoring for the crucifixion of the Savior of mankind the.othér was nursing her babe on the banks of the Congo.” A Democratio speaker who was almost, but not quite, an orator was John R. Mo- Connell. He was clever at turning & cor- ner. An opponent quoted from Helper's “Impending Crisis” to the effect that the bhay crop of the North was worth more money than the cotton crop of the Soul!L “The cotton crop is sold for millions,” replied McConnell, “while the hay crop of the North is eaten by the horses and mules of the North, and they are not worth any more after they have eaten the hay than they were before.” , Of the political orators in California in 1860 E. D. Baker was easily foremost. He possessed the power of infusing into his words a fire and passion that capti- vated men's feelings, while it convinced ORPVYRIGHT 1903 ===t BY THOMAS FITCH. their reason. He had wi vas once sald of Mirabeau, “A tongue of fire steeped In honey. All his pathos, all his logic, all his gorgeo and graceful elocu- tlon were usu: poraneous. ot always, extem- ve of an important ted to make a friend 1, have you made due prepua fon?”" ‘“Nothing," sald he, preparation of my life.” asure in the power of lead- ership of minorities—compact, tic, determined minorities and possessed in an eminent degree the Napoleonio qual- ity of attaching men to him. He so mag- netized those he liked that they could Dot ehoose but follow him, Thomas Starr King may not be classed as a political orator, for his patriotio ex~ cursions Into the domain of mers politios were Infrequent, but as a lecturer and elocutionist he had no peer. The organ tones of his voice were deep and sweet and his matter was incomparable, cially In dealing this morning,” occaston, *“is & passage from the works of God In Biskiyou County. entitled Mount Shasta™ —there followed an hour of entrancing fmagery. His wit was quick and not bitter. Referring to the mining towd of the Comstock lode (whose leading mine was the Ophir), whose saloons were fre- quent and whose hillsides abounded with a small ground squirrel, he sald: *“Vir ginia City is a town of Ophir holes, loafer holes and gopher holes.” If Thomas Stare King could have while speaking freed himself from the domination of his manu- script—if he could have perfectly mem- orized his addresses, he would have had no peer as an orator in any English speak- ing land. John B. Felton was learned in classio lore, and a ready after-dinner speakem At the banquet given to celebrate the vio- tory of A. B. D. Hoffman, whose eleo- tion as a Presidential Elector had been contested, because of a fallure to print all of his®initials on the ballot, Felton, al- luding to the joyous condition of his client, sald: “He has passed his A's and B's and is now half C's over.” When Senator Cole at a banquet exclaimed, “Why may not Mount Diablo becoms an. other Olympus?”’ “Too much coal In ft,” roared Felton. If there be those who think that “spell- dinding’’ proves fimancially profitable to those who follow it let them be disabused of such an impression. Glory, fun, good company, promises of promotion that gen- erally are forgotten after electlon—these you may have galore, but money—no A mdember of a brass band or a ward heeler receives more pay than a speaker. 1 have canvassed California fourteen times and have no regrets for having given so much time and effort to sarvice that was uncompensated with money, for “the song in the singing of It” and “the deed In the doing of {t” bring their own reward. I have read reports at various times of large sums alleged to have been pald me for political speeches. I regret that these stories were not true. Usually traveling expenses .have been allowed. Sometimes 1 e defrayed these myself. Only once did I receive anything like a large compensation. That was 1890, when, weary of politics and its disap- pointments, and in order to rid myself of the fmportunities of a persistent member of the State Committee. I named $5000 as the price of my services for ten speeches. To my astonishment the committeeman accepted my terms. In that canvass I traveled with Senator Stanford and did my best for the cause and for him, but honestly, I do not think that I earned the money. I learned afterward from Sena- tor Stanford's testimony before the San Francisco Grand Jury as to his campaign expenses that the comamitteeman who acted as my walking delegats collected $10,000 from the Senator for my services. 1 made no effort, however, to recover the difference, for the gentleman who made the “rake-off”” soon afterward went where 1 shall never see him again—his funeral was largely attended. * — SADIE LEFT IN CHARGE. (Copyright, 193, by T. C. McClure.) —p——5—2 OW, Sadle,” said Aunt Déborah Warner to her niece, who had come down from Chicagé to pass a month at the old farmhouse, “I've got to drive to town this af- ternoon to sign some You'll be left all alone in Do you law papers. charge for three or four hours. think you'll be scared?” “What will there be to scare mé?” asked the girl of 20, who was ‘swinging in a hammock. “Why, nothing at all=If a tin peddler comes along you want to shake your head before he has time fo get down from his wagon. - If a tramp stops and opens the THE MAN WHO WON--By Edwin Lefevre S | | 9 0 Continued from page 7. efter the election I could be appointed as- sistant secretary of the company as an evidence of good faith on the part of the reform management. I can keep tabs on them and represent the Weddell-Hopkins Interest. The salary,” he added, with truly artistic significance, “‘could be $5000 a year. I have been getting just one-half of that” His salary was exactly $1600; but why minimize one's commerclai value? The old banker walked up and down. “By gad, sir, you shall have our proxiés,” said Mr. Weddell at length, ‘Weddell, Hopkins & Co. held 14,000 shares of JTowa Midland stock, and on the next day Rock recelved their proxies. Coming from so well known, so notor- fously anti-Greener a house, they served as credentials to him, and he was able to convince many doubtlnl' ‘Thomi He secured proxies from practically all the anti-Greener stock held in the city, as well as in Philadelphia and Boston. All told, the proxies he had secured from Mr. Greener's friends and from his foes amounted to 61,830 shares. It was really a remarkable performance. He felt very proud of it. As to consequences he had carefully weighed them. He wi bound to succeed, on whichever side the coln came down. Mr. Greener called him into his private office. “Mr. Rock, how about those Towa Mid- land proxies?” “I have them safe,” answered the clerk, & bit deflantly. “How many?" Rock pulled out a plece of paper, though he knew the figures by heart. He sald, In & tone he endeavored to make nonchalant: “I have exactly 61,8% shares.” “What? What?" The Napoleon's voice overflowed with astonishment. Rock looked straight into Greener's hifty brown eves. “I sald,” he mponol. that I had mx;eltorm-hncl. Mr, Greener remembered himself. “I congratulate you, Mr. Rock, on keeping your word. You will find I keep mine equally well,” he said, in his normal squeak. “We may as well have an understand- ing now as any other time, Mr. Greener.” Tiock's eyes ¢id not leave the sallow face of the great rallroad wrecker. He knew he had crossed the Rubicon. He was fighting for his future, for the suc- cess he had dreamed of. And he was fighting a giant of giants. All this the cierk thought; and the thought braced him wonderfully. “What do you mean?”’ Greener, naively. Mr. Brown entered. He was just in time to hear the clerk say: “You have, all told, 110,000 shares of Iowa Midlan President Willetts and his crowd con- trol about the same amount."” ““Yes,” said the sallow-faced little man. His forehead was moist—barely molst— with perspiration, but his face was ex- pressicnless. His eyes were less furtive that was all. ““Well, some of the proxies stand in the name of Frederick Rock or John F. Greener, but the great part in my name alone. I can vote the entire lot as I please. And whichever side I vote for will have an absolute Majority. Mr. Greener, I have the naming of the di- rectors, and therefore of the president of the Iowa Midland. And you can't pre- vent me; and you can’t touch me; and you can’t do a d4—d thing to mu he ended, deflantly. It was nearly all su- perfluous; - inartistic. But, youth—a de- fect one overcomes with time! ““You infernal scoundrel!” shouted Mr. Brown. He had a short, thick neck, and l;llor made his face dangerously pur- ple. “I mecured most of the proxiss,” con- tinued Rock, in a tone that savored slightly of self-defense, “by assuring ‘Weddell, Hopkins & Co. and thelir friends that T would vote against Mr. Greener.” He paused. ‘o ahead, Mr. Rock,” squeaked Mr. Greener; ‘“‘don't be afraid to talk.” “You offered me $10,000 cash and $2000 squeaked Mr. = a year.” “Yes,” admitted Mr. Greener, meekly. “How much do you want?” His look be- came furtive again. A great weight had been removed from his mind. ‘““Weddell, Hopkins & Co. and their friends want me to vole the Wliletts ticket, Mr. Willetts having promised to make important reforms. My reward is to be the position of assistant secretary, with headquarters In New York, at a sal- ary of $5000 a year, to say nothing of the backing of Weddell, Hookins & Co. “I'll do as much and give you $20,000 {n cash,” said Mr. Greener, quietly. “No. I want to join the New York Stock Exchange. I want you to buy me a seat, and I want you to glve me sorme of your business. And I want you to lend me $50,000 on my note.” “Yes?" ‘Mr. Greener, you know what I can do; and I know what the absolute con- trol of the Iowa Midland means to you. And I want to be your broker. I'll serve you faithfully, Mr. Greener.” “Rock,” squeaked Mr. Greener, “shake hands. I understand just how you feel about this. I'll buy you a seat and I'll glve you all the business I can, and I'll lend you $100,000 without any note. I think I know you now. The seat you shall have just as soon as it can be bought, My interests shall be your inter- ests in the future.” “I've made all the necessary ments. I can buy the seat at a moment’, notice,” sald Rock, calialy, though his heart was beating wildly for sheer joy of victory. “It will cost $23,000." “Tell Mr. Simpson to make out my per- sonal check for $25,000,” plped the Na- poleon of the Street, almost cordially. “Th-thank you very much, Mr. Green- " stammered the bold clerk. “The proxies—"" A “‘Oh, that's all right,” Interrupted Mr. John F. Greener. “You'll go to Des Moines with us. You're one of us now. I've long wanted a man like you. But, Rock, nowadays young men are elther gamblers or fools,” he ua-d ‘with a flnal plaintive squeak. By Phil Bryce. gate you must look as flerce as you can and motion him to pass on. If you ses a mad dog you will run into the hoyse, of course, and if a robber tries to enter you Jus: stand right up to him and tell him you've got a loaded gun in !he house and know how to shoot.” “But is there a loaded gun?’ asked Sadie, as she slightly shivered at the thought. “I guess that old gun behind the closet door in my bedroom has been loaded for the last ten years. Uncle Elisha kept it loaded for owls before he died. Don’t shoot a robber unless he comes to rob and can't be persuaded otherwise, and then shoot at his legs and give him a chance to live and reform."” “But I must shoot if he refuses to go away?” “You must. You must point the gun in his direction and shut your eyes, and don't faint away when you hear the re- port.” Twenty minutes later she heard the latch of the gate suddenly click, and she dumped herself out of the hammock to find a first-class specimen of the Weary ‘Willie advancing the path. She mo- tioned as Aunt Deborah had told her to. She motioned with both hands at once, but the tramp paid no attention. ¥e was within five feet of her when she cried out: “Stop where you are!” “That's better,” he sald as he came to a halt, “I took it from your flinging your arms about that you had St. Vitus’ dance. Any cold wittles which want eatin’ * commanded Sadle, as she drew herself up, “I want you to understand that I have a gun!" “Just so, little one.” “And it's loaded.” “Persactly. A gun is as harmless as a rag doll when it isn't loaded. I'd like to change places with the gun for an Lour or two.” “If you do not at once go away,” con- tinued Sadie in trembling tones, “I shall be under the painful necessity of shoot- ing you."” “By ginger, but what a heroine,” laugh- ed the tramp. He understood the situation. He knew that she was alone and ready to be scared into a fit, but was making a brave bluff against her womanly weakness. here was a strain of chivalry in his composi- tion. Stepping back and lifting his greasy old cap off nis tousled hair, he bowed low and said: “Fair Miss, please observe that I grace- fully retire and give you the victory.’ When he had disappeared down the road Miss Sadie congratulated herseif ofl her nerve, and sat down on the steps of the veranda to look for & mad dog. Aunt Deborau had sald a mad dog Wwould come next. There was a slip somewhere, however, for it was a robber that showed up about forty minutes after the tramp’s broad back had become only a dot against the sky line. The robber c.lm. from the west, walking in the mid- dle of the highway. As he reached the barn, a few rods below the house, he turned in and was quickly lost to sight. Sadle walted with beating heart for ten minutes to see if he intended to advance «pupon the house from the barn and take her by surprise; but as time went on she made up her mind that he had come to steal hay or straw instead of househbold effects. He must be driven away just the same, and she was the only one to drive him. Aunt Deborah depended upon her. It was another ten minutes befors the girl could work up courage enough to g0 In after the old shotgun and drag it forth by its muzzle. But once armed, she felt braver and made her way along the path to the barn, whose doors stood wide open to the summer wind and sunshine. She approached them cautiously, fearing that the stranger was In ambush and ready to spring forth; but as she finally stood and looked Into the barn, she was considerably relleved to find the maa lying at full length on a scant bed of hay. Robbers do mot generally take a daylight nap before robbing, and though the man looked wayworn and somewhat Aisrepu~ table, his face, as far as she could see It, was not evil looking. Perhaps he was she hu!&ed the shotgun. The man sat up and smiled In & sickly way, and looked around with a bewtldersd alr, and It was a minute before he vague- 1y replied: “I guess I'm only a common man, but ; vxvnnl to rest—and I'm so tired—and I eel— “It will be my duty to lhoo( you, you know, if you don’t move on.” “Yes? Well, I don’t care much.” “But I'll only shoot you in the legs, and thus give you a chance to reform. Do you think you could reform after being shot in the legs? #I—I dunno, but I'll try my hardest,” sald the trespasser, as he struggled to his feet. ‘“However, I think I'd rather have a doctor than a dose of bird shot. Is your—your father—or anyone else— about—abou: He lurched and staggered, and col- lapsed, and Sadie let the gun fall to the floor and over him. It wasn't & minute before burning with ng with a chill at the time, and all further thoughts of robbers and shooting were driven from her head. She brought him water and later on stopped a farmer driv- ing by and got help to move the stranger to the house and put him to bed. “He’s no tramp,” said the country doo- tor who was called in, “He's some college fellow, probably, with a rich dad behind him, who's been making a walking tour. He probably got soaked in th thunder storm yesterday and he’ll be in bed. for four or five days as a resuit. Here's your little romance, and If you don't make :the best of it you're a queer girl” That Miss Sadie Davis was not a queer girl, and that she did make the best of it, was proven a year later. The diagno- sis of the doctor was correct, and the tourist with the rich dad was taken Into the house as a summer boarder. He took advantage of circumstances to woo and win and take unto himself a wife, and to preserve the old shotgun as a souveni® of their first meeting. -