The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 25, 1904, Page 6

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. while Texas had d to me as a place where a boy of moderate indus- cot pick up a decent in- ng train robbes ice and collect that scheme was De ve Series; ar regions only rok ea with se afternoon in March 1 the sole proprietor f $6, earned as a steam- S on a trip acr the 1 fed and rested and sty * negro steward who tutored passing as an art wanted r and & f use to him, but ST 1 tk proposition, demanded ¥ y and t ashore. He had a lot grateful white bums. didn’t look much like a While 1 WO of the trains had already illed up the company’s whart to main , and a third was ng out its last signaling whis- when a girl hurried down Track 9 with a basket covered by a napkin, evidently containing a lunch. Me wger 16 was swaying unstead- » open door of a car, and the raight to him, her eyes r cheeks flushed.. Bur as she she suddenly recoiled, a look coming to her face. s tried to say, m them. The man passed a hand across his brow weakly, holding to the car by the other rl went a step nearer. “What it mean?” her voice quivered hoars “Oh, Ben.” Something of the agony in the cry netrate the man’s dulling tremor went through him no sound came fro do seemed to » straightened suddenly as by a great effort. The dull ned and shut heavily, and again the hand passed across the fore- head as though to force some intelil- gence into the clogged brain. Then: D-don't speak like that, girlle,” an unrecognizable voice mumbled. “I'm not drunk. I mever drank a drop in my life. You know I—speak—true. It's & drug,” his voice drifting back again HIS is a highly instructive tale of two men and a girl. People who think that they have a corner on all the avallable knowledge in the girl business are requested to read it in order that they may dis- cover how much they are shy on; oth- sailor, T felt and acted the part. The odor of dishwater and prunes,,instead of tar, pervaded my youthful being, yet I walked with a nautical roll. ever and anon giving my greasy trousers a hitch and squinting up at the sky. For an hour or two I loafed about the wharves ng of my travels with oyster penerg, crab fishers and unemployed p shooters, who are to be found in ge herds at Southern seaports. That ning 1 dined on v oysters at an n ced cafe built against a wharf and told the proprietor many in- g things about Vera Cruz. N p anchored three miles from shor iring our stay at the Mexiéan port. I remained on board the entire time, and dens vailed night and 4 aurant man had never Vera Cr I was able to tell he wanted to know about the g a thorough sea-going person, ught, the only place for me was as I th < on the water front, so I hove to for the night at the Mariners’ Retreat. This snug haven for sea rovers was a one- story shack squeezed in between a green hide store and a saloon that had a heavy list to starboard. Even on the outside the building wore an air of happy, careless intoxication. My new friend, the oyster man, steered me to the Mariners’ Retreat, which displayed a signboard executed in oil by a barn painter, who had the true ception of sallors. The one he depicted wore wide, flat trousers, a flat hat, with rib- bons dangling from the brim, and his shirt was open almost to the walist line. This decollete effect was nec ry to display the topmasts of a ship supposed to be tattooed on the bosom of the mariner. In feature the man on the signboard resembled Tom Sharkey, only his expression was more spirited lifelike than Tom's. The interior arrangement of the re- treat comprised four two on either side of a hall, with kitchen and dining-room at the back. Each room contained two double beds. The front door opened on the street, and just in- side the portal sat a withered littie old man with the lower part of his body embalmed in a horse blanket. On his re a seaman’s wool cap, a chin a narrow frings of p: sardy whiskers of the kind known as Sc shrubbery. “Did you want to say good-night to Grandpa?’ he squeaked in a rat-like voice. b “Who is grandpa?” I asked, wonder- ing if he were a mislaid relative of mine. “Me,” said the little old man. “Guests must say good night to Grandpa before turning in. It's a rufe of the house. five cents. Have you got the and into the stupor. The girl was beside him with a swift movement, the basket thrust into the car, her hands placed firmly upon his shoulders, her eyes close and gazing straight into his, lovingly, compell- ingly. “Ben,” the voice forcing itself into clearness and steadiness, “look at me now hard. What is {t? Think!"” The man made a supreme effort. “Jt was Messenger 12—Timson, you know.” She knew—she had refused Tim- son’s love. “He offered me a drink of water and I took it. Then he crossed to Track 3 and jumped on board his train. It was the one that just pulled out.” “But what did he do it for?” ~“Don’t you uhderstand, Delia?” a sharp agony quivering in the voice. ““This trip was to furnish the money for our wedding. Timson knew it. He planned it just before my train starts, so I will lose the trip. There is no time to find a substitute. My train will go without me, and the company will Be angry and discharge me for drunkenness, and—and—" his eyes again becoming dull and his form swaying more heavily, “and—I'm los- ing myself. I can't see you. Quick, ers who modestly deny the possession of any expert knowledge whatever on the subject are also recommended to peruse it in «rder that they may learn that no one else knows anything about it either. Girls are elusive; the more you know about them the less you are sure of, and the man who knows the most of all knows only enough to let them alone. Having thus openéd the feast of rea- son and flow of soul with the custom- ary toast to the ladies, we shall pro- ceed at once, if not before, to the gen- eral Intellectual menu. One of the men with whom we are concerned came from somewhere out in the woods, no matter where. The important thing about him was that he was possessed of a hand-made intellect with a Boston finish connecting directly with a rotary vocal apparatus. When his brain was running at high speed he would ac- quire a momentum that would carry his voice on for some time after his mind had stopped. The beauty of that kind of an equipment is that it gives the mind an opportunity to rest now and then without checking the flow of words. This is a highly desirable con- dition for those who regard conversa- tion as merely an exercise of the voice. We would ‘?‘ this individual with the split-second’ intellect a name if we could think of one that would suit him, but names are troublesome things. If some one else came along who was marked with the same label there might be all kinds of a fuss, especially if we should happen to say something that might appear uncomplimentary to the gentleman with the Boston thought-works, For that reason we A A 0 B Fablesfo - By Charles Dryden “Oh!" I sald, “ ‘good nignt’ means to pay in advance. Sure. I've got the price.” He looked at me sideways while I exhumed a loose quarter from my rai- ment and placed it on the table. Kick- ing his thin legs out of the horse blan- ket Grandpa picked up the coin and the Jamp and started to lead me along the hall, when he paused as if held up by a sudden thought. ‘“‘Have you any asked courteously. spring large bills on me and I go out for change. I told him I had $6 in silver—my pay- day on the steamer. “How fortunate,” chuckled the old tieman. “You can break this $5, change?” Grandpa “So many guests cannot if you'll be 8o kind.” Five of my silver dollars were ex- changed for the bill, and Grandpa cozy apartment . in showed me to ‘my one of the rear rooms. There was just n the beds for a fellow to Chairs wgre deemed a needless luxury in the Retreat. w, sonny,” said Grandpa, holding in the doorway while I dis- you can sleep on the front side Like as not there'll be no And for 25 cents you may ni r' ast in the morning:" that the kind old man backed away and once more settled down in his horse blanket at the front door. By the light of a hall lamp thrown over low partition 1 crawled into 'bed, t placing my purse in my vest and ing it beneath the sheet under my shoulders. It was daylight when I awe fee'ing much refreshed. - The other bed was empty, but showed symptoms of having been occuplied. Hearing a noise at my back, I turned over and found a dark-browed, stocky man, fully dressed even to his shoes, lying on the bed between me and the wall. On seeing me awake the stranger bade me a cheerful good morning, crawled out and sat on the side of the bed. “Will you be so good, young fellow, race betw stand and p as to 1 and tie my shoe?” he added. “I've gct a lame hip on one side and can't bend low enough.” Jertainly, =ir,” I replied, willing to oblige the afflicted. 's a terrible thing to be lame, s Hopping out 1 knelt down to lace the shoe. While at work on that labor of love I was pained and shocked to de- tect my faithful vest lying on the floor under the bed. With a horrible fear my heart I hauled out the vest and e purse, empty and turned in- out, stu back into the pocket nich T had left it. Look at that!” I easped. robbed in the night.!’ Well, I decls if that isn’t so!” ex- claimed my bed rtner, equally aston- ished. “This is wicked town and no mistake. Must have heen the fellows in the other bed. They went out early. T'm glad you don’t suspect me.” Thanking me for my kindness the alleged lame man limped out of the room, leaving me to wrestle with some afterthoughts. What puzzled me was how the vest got from under my body and took a header to the floor without disturbing my repose. That I had been touched was plenty plain and clear, but when and by whom was the mystery. My pillow was in place, but the lower Shead was gone from my side of the bed and lay in a sort of window down the cen of the couch. That explained “I've been [O girlie, find the manager and tell him it isn’t drink. A—a discharged mes- senger cannot get work anywhere."” He lurched forward and would have fallen, but she caught him in her strong, supple arms. A quick glance both. ways showed no one was in sight. The fruit train on Track § was just leaving the whart and 6 was sounding its last warning call. Half carrying and half leading him, she hurried Messenger 10 to the nearest entrance, only a few yards away. Several drays were standing about walting for a job. She mo- tioned imperiously on the owner of the nearest. “Listen, Ben,” she said slowly, put- ting her lips close to the ears of the now almost insensible man in an ef- fort to make him hear and compre- hend; “I am going to send you home. You mustn't worry a bit. I will fit it all right.” He was holding his train papers tightly, and she unclasped them gently from his fingers. Then, as the drayman came forward, “Take this man to his home at once, 12 Rue Citronelle. Here is a dollar.” shall refer to him simply as the brainy man. There is another man, but his appearance will be postponed until later. The brainy individual’s long sult with the ladies was playing up the in- tellectual life, He had nothing but contempt for those muscular and thoughtless members of his sex who de- voted their spare time to whacking an inoffensive golf ball around a four-mile course in the fewest possible number of cuss words or tempting fate and the speed law with a French-made vehicle for the promotion of homicide- and equine nervous prostration. The thoughtful man was all for the quiet life and he didn't ‘tare who knew fit. There is no particular harm in any kind of a man picking out any kind of a life that appeals to him, provided he can pay for it. The beautiful thing about a free country is that.@ man can think anything that he wants to, if he doesn’t tell any one élse about it. The trouble comes when a man takes the covers off his theories and exposes them to the gaze of a mercenary world. The particular idea of the in- tellectual man which led to his down- fall was, of course, concerned with woman, lovely woman. Most downfalls do have something # do with women, somehow or somewhere. If a man doesn’t make a fool of himself because some daughter of Eve tempted him, he does it because she didn’t. In eith- er case the woman is to blame. Our friend started out accompanied by the cheerful theory that a woman is more impressed by a man of intel- lect who isn't ashamed of his tendency toward the overproduction of thought than she is with a man who hands her sentimental nothings garnished with airy persifiage. That shows just how foolish the chump was. Any one who it. 'The man who slept at the back had rolled me for my roll. By pulling the sheet away inch by inch he caused me to turn the other way in my inno- cent slumber until the treasure vest was within his covetous grasp: 1 awoke before he could get away with the swag and the shoe game was but a cunning subterfuge. He wanted me to discover the looted vest under the bed before he departed and thus divert sus- picion from himself. Neat work. My wardrobe was intact. for the rea- son it was not worth stealing, and I had no baggage. After dressing I went into the hall to confide in Grandpa, but he was off watch. In the kitchen I found a good-looking but dissipated ‘);t;:::;: ‘:nean mu&(éng things, the odor of ch were maddenin; bankrupt boy. i0a nen :iwgolr‘\:ns this outfit?” I demanded. at has that to do wi " re- torted the chef. o st “Lots,” I said. “They robbed me in there last night—took every cent I had and pushed the bottom of the purse up into the place where the money used to be. There it is. Look at it.” “Well, I'm sorry for your tough luck,” sald the cook in a soft and, it seemed, complacent voice. “I own this place, but sleep elsewhere. The old man you saw last night is the watchman. Did you request him to put your valu- ables in the safe?”’ “No, sir; I didn’t know you had safe.” ““Then I'm afraid we cannot help you any,” he replied somewhat sadly and ignoring the safe query. “You were very careless, but you needn't pay for your lodgin ! “To-night?" I asked, eagerly. “No, last night.” “Why, I paid for that in advance— said good night to Grandpa,” I added, with a ghastly attempt at humor. The cook laughed, turned his back on me and prodded the good things on the stove. He was guying me and, rather than stand for that sort of thing I went out and walked around the block. In one respect I was a full- fledged mariner. The sharks cleaned me out the first night ashore, and once more I was up against the starvation gag. Gradually the system by which I was touched unfolded itself. Nothing could have been easier or neater than the syndicate hotel skin game worked in the Mariners’ Retreat. To begin with, the pirate in the open- faced oyster joint on the water front was the outside man. He did the steer- ing. The cook was the silent partner —paid the rent and served meals to people who did not sleep in the house. Dear old Grandpa, with his cheerful little good-night joke, was a sort of investigating committee. His business was to probe the financial gtanding of a mariner. Changing the $5 bill was but a subtle stratagem to get at the size of my pile. And the quick-witted gentleman with the lame hip was the night operator—the —an with the gen- tle touch—and he was a peach. My poor little roll didn’t amount to much, vet the loss of it let me into the de- tails of a syndicate system which doubtless paid rich dividends when real sailors with deep water paydays stum- bled into the trap. At that the Marinegs’ Retreat did not differ from hotels I have since known in New York and at agger summer resorts. The landlord and his ‘assist- ants get'all your money, but the opera- fat By Frank H. Sweet Inside, she again glanced sharply around. A man was running in her direction, heading toward the rear of the train. She recognized him as a friend of Ben's. “Hello, Miss Delial” he called; “come to seesBen off again, have you? He's a lucky dog. But you must excuse my hurry. This train pulls out in three minutes and I must reach my section.” Delia could hear her heart thump- ing in its anxiety. “Your section s the rear, I sup- pose?” she questioned with assumed carelessness. “Yes,” over his shoulder, “the eight- een rear cars. I'm messenger 28. Ben has the forward twenty cars. I switch oft at Memphis for Jefferson City and Ben goes on to Columbus.” As he hurried away Delia's face cleared. She had learned all she want- ed to know. Placing her hands upon the floor of the car she gave .a light spring and was within, sliding the \ will attempt to state in cold blood and all in one day what a woman really likes and why is possessed of a reck- less courage worthy of a better cause. It's almost as much of a task as try- ing to explain why a woman ever re- conciles herself to the hard fate of in- habiting the same terrestrial sphere with man, and fully as important. In pursuance of his theory that what woman really admires in man is his brain our subject faithfully explained the workings of his cerebellum on ev- ery possible occasion. As soon as he had fairly established himself in the most comfortable chair on the summer hotel plazza and had settled the fate of the weather for the next twenty- four hours, he would launch a few cholce extracts from the latest collec- tipn of predigested thought that he had been absorbing. It didn’t make any difference what it was; all was fish that came to his intellectual net. Some days he was strong on Ger- man philosophy, and Schopenhauer and Hegel had the floor. The next day it might be Italian art and poor old Michael A. Buonarrotti and the late L. da Vinc! would have all their manifold shortcomings dragged out into the piti- less light of day. It was a lucky thing for them that they were never acquainted with our brainy friend; if they had known him the knowledge of their own faults would have per- manently discouraged them from ever putting brush to canvas again. Just to show the versatility of his brain equipment he would probably turn his attention a :ha fleld of fiction on the tion is not so sudden as that practiced on the simple mariner in Texas. And the legitimate hotel —~~~ makes a fee- ble bluff at giving his victims some- thing in return for his genteel mode of piracy. About the middle of the forenooh, tired, disheartened and _hungry, sneaked past the Retreat. My late bed- fellow, now half drunk, stood in a cocky attitude in front of the place. One hand rested on an awning post and the otker on his lame hip. A row of brown ci- gars protruded from his vest pocket, and his hat was canted over one eye. ‘“‘Hello, bub!"” the Boss Dipper said in a disgustingly familiar way. “How much did you lose last night?” just as if he didn’t know. “It was my all, sir—ail T had in the world—six dollars.” “Don’t let that worry you,” he said in fatherly accents. “All you can buy with money is whisky and tobacco, and such things won't do you any good. Cheer up.” And thus I left him in the enjoyment of his ill-gotten wealth. On first leaving home 1 was desirous of procuring employment, s0 my letter of introduction stated. Now I wanted a job. A’swift canvass of the town dis. closed but 'one iron foundry in an a tive state of eruption. This was an amateur industrial outfit in Class B, resembling 2 box car with a funnel sticking up at one side. All the same, it starred the name Vulcan Iron Works on a board longer than the building. There was but one person vulecaning in the place—a meek-looking man in spec- tacles, who had the air of a blighted being. - He was molding grate bars for the sawmill district, and from the pattern layout I judged that was the chief product. “Is the foreman about?” I inquired of the Blighted Being. “I'm him,” he replied, actually blush- ing. “What can I do for you?” My needs were soon explained. I told him my hard luck story from top to bottom: How my watch and trunk were in hock in New Orleans; my tramp to the Gulf; the sea voyage, and the lifting of my $6 in that pirate’s nest—the Mariners’ Retreat. Also I mentioned Mudville, Ili., and the names of the men I had worked with there. He knew one of them, and his heart warmed to me. The sad fereman bus- tled about, fed me from his dinner pail and talked a blue streak. To one of my youth and inexperience he could un- bosom himself and escape ridicule. “While I'm foreman here,” he con- fessed, with andther blush, “they won’t allow me to hire any one. I do all the work myself.” i “And bose yourself, too?” I inquired in a burst of astonishment. “In a manner of speaking, I have my own way pretty much,” he confided. “I do all the work, load the melting fur- nace, melt the iron and on casting days the owner hires a couple of niggers to help me with the ladles. For years I wanted to be a foreman, and this is it,” he half sobbed, “making these bloody grate bars. Enough to drive a good man daffy. But, say, I can get you a job on the outside if you'll take e Of course I'would, in a minute, so the unhappy boss of himself wrote me a note to the superintendent of the street car system. “That man Walsh is a friend of mine. 1 once saved his life and he’ll do any- thing for me.” Mr. Walsh read the note and with bad grace, I thought. sat me at work On and Off the Bread Wadon ¢ Hard Luck Tales and Doings of an AmatenrHobo with a bunch of Dagoes shifting a see. tion of car track. The road was lasted with oyster shells, which h be chopped loose with pickaxes. At end of two hours of brilliant ach ment we came to a switch, and whil couple of Dagoes Wwc with bars for a pinch Iift ¢ I straightened up and re on my hips. My change of scene. That was cue for Mr. Walsh, who popped ou from somewhere. “Say, young fellow,” he growled, “we haven't work enough, it seems, to keep you bus Come to the off and g your y 1 protested T was only waiting.for t bar men to lift the edge of the frog I could get my hands under » it, but the highly ir M Wal red me just the 1 not well ignore the re man who saved his life, nothing in the bond to | nt ) Walsh giving me the grand W short notice, and I He p off with thirty cer worth of car tickets—two hours’ work rate of fifteen cents per. T help some, as there was no * g Galves ton” car In those d and I couldn’t salar touring the city Had the peculiar significance of thirty cents been establ »d at that time I would, perhaps, have told Mr. Walsh his life was worth just what it cost him to discharge the obligation he owed the foundry foreman. But, alas! I was shy on repartee, the same as other neces- sarfes of life, so I hit the trucks of a passenger train to Houston In the next chapter I walk in a circle, and later learn something ab Red Meat day In a Texas rallroad camp (Copyright, 1904, by Charles Dryden.) squander my “DETECTING TRAIN ROBBERS AND COLL ECTING THE REWARD." O EQUAL r m EMERGENCY | door quickly behind her. A few mo- ments later her own bell rang and then the car began to move forward. She had never been on a train be- fore, never been out of New Orleans, but her father had been a messenger, and Ben had many times told her the details of his trip. She must manipu- late the ventilators of her twenty cars so as to have the heat just right to bring the bananas to prime, market- able condition when she reached her destination. A few degrees too much either way might mean the loss of a good many thousand dollars to the company. It was @ hard trip, for t%e outside thermometer rose from 31 degrees to 70 degrees in six hours, and the next morning was back agam to 31 de- grees and falling. It meant a constant shifting of the ventilators, with an im- possibility of keeping the car ther- mometers from fluctuating uneasily. Zero rather would have been infinitely preferable, for ., then the ventilators could have remained closed and the fruit would generate enough heat of its own. That night and the next day Delia did not trust herself to sit down once, for fear she might get drowsy and momentarily relax her vigilance. Too much depended upon obtaining the best resuits just now. eration, if ever. Or perhaps he would gravely consider whether Hamlet was really insane or was only trying to fool the jury. These were only a few of the intel- lectual stunts that the poor man did for the benefit of his feminine au- diences, but they will suffice to show how the better halves live at the sum- mer hotels when the intellectual crank is in the ascendant. At first our friend was general in his atten- tions, and it was possible to arrange a system of shifts in order to avoid hurting his feelings and at the same time prevent undue loss of life. Finally, however, he settled on one unfortunate specimen of the opposite sex as the final recipient of his intel- lectual outpourings. We have mno record to the effect that the poor thing was any more deserving of pun- ishment than any of her sisters, there- fore we must regard her condition as merely another proof that destiny plays no favorites. You are likely to get not only what is coming to you, :mt ‘what is coming to other people, 00. The man with the cerebellum had come to the conclusion that this par- ticular bunch of white organdie was about the right size and general qual- ity to adorn the top shelt of his car- diac closet. He assumed as a matter “of course that she was dazazled by his intellectual superiority and would Jump at the chance to'sit in the shadow of such a bulging brow all the rest of her life. Accordingly he proceeded to carry out a plan of cam- paign that seemed to him likely to reduce the enemy’'s works in a week at the most. In the morning he read poe -to her, Interspersed with 8] tly and erudite comments of She was careful’to keep herself out of sight, and this she was able to do the more readily on account of the fruit train making few stops. At Mem- phis the rear section was switched off to connect with a train west, and her own was attached to a train which had just pulled in from Galveston, the engine returning to New Orleans with a lot of empty cars. A few hours later, at a watering stop, the new conductor caught sight of her as he was hurrying along the train. She was just sliding the door, but too late. “Hello,” he cried, pausing, man—tramp!” Delia slid back the door. “No, sir,” she answered quietly, holding up the papers she had taken from Ben; “I am in charge of this section. » I haven't had a chance to see you before.” The conductor gave a long whistle which ended in an apologetic cough. But his face lengthened visibly. “What’s the company thinking of?"” he ejaculated hotly. “Next we know girls will be put in as conductors and brakemen and engineers.” And he harried away, still choking resentfuily. Seven days later Delia entered the company's office at New Orleans. The manager himself happened to be in and he secmed to recognize her by the pa- pers she carried in her hand. He came forward quickly. But at that moment a figure which had been lounging about the street door—a white, anxious-faced man, who had been peering into the “a wo- his own. It the afternoon he took her walking and bombarded her with extracts from books on Nature, with a capital N. In the evening they foregathered in the front parlor with Emerson and Ruskin and other au- thors whom everybody talks about and nobody reads. The fact that the young lady usually went to sleep about the second round of the ves- per service would have hurt the man’s feelings if he had ever noticed it but a man who is so lost to a sense of decency 2s to read Ruskin to any woman under forty-five is not likely to be very observant of his surround- ings when he has once gone into his trance. The campaign appeared to be pro- gressing favorably and the brainy guy ‘was just on the point of suggesting to the young lady that they make an- arrangement to continue their, intel- lectual seances adown the stream of life together when she announced her intention of contracting matrimony with a scion of plutocracy who had pulled stroke oar in his senior year and had a record of eighty-one for the eighteen holes. The most intellec- tual pursuit that the fortunate man was known to engage in was a daily study of the sporting page and a steady and Intense mental application to the menu cards of various swagger restaurants. But he could turn out airy persifiage till the cows came home and he was not likely to im- press any woman with a sense of his mental superiority. Our tale is done, and so is the man with the mind. He has resigned him- self to fate and a life of undiluted bachelorhood, sustained and upheld by the important, if somewhat dis- cot discovery that O) office most of the time for the last eight days—also saw her and rushed in. She turned to him first. “How are you, eagerly; “all right “Yes, yes, but you? What have you been up to, girlie? The office has been full of talk.” The manager was beside them now. “Is this Miss Delfa?" he inquired. “Yes, sir. Here are the receipts your commission agents gave me. They said the fruit was in prime condi- tion.” The manager glanced over the papers hurriedly. “Yes, yes; they’re all right,” he said. “But we knew that before. Our agents wired us that the fruit was In the very best condition—as good as they had ever received. I—I hardly know what to do about this. It's a most untoward thing, and should receive our severest censure; and yet you did as weil as our very best messenger—better al- most. I suppose we shall have to pass it over. But such a thing must never happen again. No,” as her gaze went inquiringly toward. Ben; “we have not discharged him. He may go on the next trip. And you—well, it was a most_untoward thing: but I suppose you did the best you could under such short notice. You may stop at the cashier's window for your money, and —yes, there’'s a little recognition for you there also. You saved us from a possible great loss. But, remember, the rceognition is accompanied by our most severe censure.” (Copyright, 1904, by Frank H. Sweet.) Ben?" she asked rthe I‘_((DOHS ‘ j}\,/}cnpwj‘/}mla ~ little knowledge may be a dangerous thing, too much is sometintes almost as injurious. (Copyright, 1904, by Albert Britt.)