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MAGAZINE,'
Red, White and
By LOUISE HEILGERS
he saw. All
s. cornflowers
*lded th*'lr quivc
sage of his lu
bl
whit e
He
Prussi
His comrades lay dead on the battle
field. behind, the black eagles of
Prussia rode rampant, victorious. But
the colors of France were etill hi*.
Never, living, would he yield them.
He remembered the captain’s last
words, the merry-eyed, handsome
captain who now lay cold as wax
upon the blood-sodden earth: “The
colors, Gustave, mon vleux, save the
colors.’’
And he had seized them from the
stiffening hand of the standard hear
er, wrenched them free from the lance
that held them, and bound them about
his bleeding body. •
Save the Flag.
Then, turning, he had run blindly
away from the field of red, white and
blue dead into green fields full of red,
white and blue flowery.
It was early morning, but the»sun
beat warm ur>on the uncovered fields.
He ran, crouching crookedly among
the swaying grasses, 8% run drunken
and wounded men, and the long flow
ering things opened and let him pass,
then hid him again. It was as If thef
knew what he carried.
Of a sudden, as he ran. he came
upon a hedgerow that bounded the
end of the field. In the patch beyond
a girl, slim and brown and young,
dug potatoes.
He eyed her longingly as a thirsty
man eyes the water.
• P-s-st,” he called, quaveringly.
She raised her head wondertngly,
one wooden-shod foot upon the earth-
tilled spade.
"Who calls?” she cried.
"France,” he said In a husky whis-
)* r
It was as if a spark from the flame
of his soul set hers afire.
She cjytic running to his call. Over
the hedge he handed the tattered re
mains of the colors to her His wound
opened afresh as he tore them from
his sjde.
The Prussians are coming,” he
said. "Save these!"
Obedient, her sun-burnt hands
reached out and clutched across the
vering hedge at what he held.
And you—what of you?” she
(From th* German of Bernhard K«'l!ennani*-—
fWTTUn ' rr'lon Cf.pyngh; 1911. t<y
b*r Varias. Bariln English translation an«l
by
W
(Copyrighted, 191*. hy International New* rtervloa )
TO DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
)NDERFUL as are our mod
ern means of communica
tion, there Is an Indefinable
older one that Is more wonderful still.
Or how was it that. If'w* than twenty
minutes after Harrirnan had been
roused by a telephone message from
Baermann—the la?*t before the serv
ice was broken—hundreds of men and
women in Tunnel City sensed that
something was wrong with their
mates in the lower workings?
Long before 5 o’clock a crowd had
gathered in front of the administra -
tlon building, and at the entrance to
the tubes’, and messengers began rac
ing back and forth from one to the
other gathering with the latest news.
He shrugged his shoulders
Run." he bade her. "Quick, be
fore they come. They will not sus-
]h \ t if they do not see you.”
She eyed him gravely, without sur
prise nr remonstrance, one grows]
used to meeting mm over open j
graves in war time.
"God be with you," was all she said.
"Amen,” he answered, "and with
France.”
For a moment he waited, watching
her speed across the garden, first
casting aside her wooden shoes to
run the swifter, and holding fast to
her brown breast what looked, as she
receded Into the distance, like a buncq
of parti-colored flowers. Only when
the door of the thatched roof farm-
- I upon her did he t m u
away and crawl, stumblingly, the
length of another field.
Saved!
At the end lie fell prone and lay
quite Still.
When presently a detachment of
Prussians came uoon him, they found
only a dead and useless man lying
fare downward upon the sun-warmed
.*arth, a cloud of gossamer midgets
dancing about his he.id. while all
around him. red white and blue,
stretched the colors of Free France.
But they were merely flowers
The regiment’s flae lay safely hid
den In the brown breast of a peasant
girl.
Up-to-Date Jokes
ARRIMAN had had bad news
from his son a few days before.
The boy was dying In China of
some mysterious tropic fever, and he
had taken some drug to make him
sleep. He jotted down Baermann’s
brief message, and It was many min
utes before he was even partially
master of himself. By the time he
was ready for definite Action an Im
mense crowd, mostly women, had
gathered and were demanding news.
The first of the trains had reached
the surface; but the workmen knew
nothing beyond the fact that some
thing was wrong—that every one had
dropped work and headed for the
trains.
They began calling to him in shrill,
angry Voices. In Rives’ absence he
was in supreme command, as he was
Rives’ chief of staff. He told a new
ly roused elerk to go out and tell the
crowd that nothing definite had been
learned. They jeered at the young
man and he retired in angry dignity;
whereupon the crowd began shouting
for his chief again.
The Dread News.
Harrirnan went out. There were
ignorant and excitable hordes of a
dozen different races in the city, and
he knew the necessity for keeping
them calm. When he stepped out
onto the veranda in the gray dawn
a respectful silence greeted him.
Those people had grown to look on
the lords of the workings as their
actual rulers, hut every second’s de
lay was making them uglier, and their
quick suspicions were spurring them
on.
He looked them over ami saw that
they were almost without exception
the wives of the workers.
"I am sorry to have to tell you,”
he said quietly in English, "that there
has been a small explosion In the
south gallery. Something wont wrong
with the drilling machine and it blew
up. This is all we know at present,
but it is not serious."
There was a low murmur from the
crowd as this short speech was swift
ly translated into a half score tongues
"You mean that’s all you want * o
tell!” cried a woman, shrilly. *‘T wan
na know ’bout my husband! Is any
of ’em dead
A lad. whose age might have been
guessed as 13. went up to a booking
office on the Southeastern and Chatham
Railway and said to the clerk:
“Two halves to the Elephant and Cas-
:le, please.”
“How old are you?” asked the clerk
“Eleven years,” replied the lad
“For whom is the other half'"’
"For my brother ”
“And how old Is your brother?”
“Just a month younger than I atn,
“And the name Is to he?" asked the
suave minister, as he approached the
tont with the precious armful of fat and
flounces.
“Augustus Philip Fer
ton Chesterfield Livings
“Dear, dear!" Turning to the sexton
A littie more water, Mr Perkins
and Codring- ing them bn
e Snooks.”
line that gave him some Idea of the
frightful character ot the disaster and
the appalling confusion in the tunnel.
But the trains were coming out. He
stopped some of the ingoing trains
as long as he dared, for he knew the
swelling mob at the entrance would
recognize the stoppage of the inbound
traffic as a bad sign. All of the tracks
were open for 35 miles in. One of
them all the way. By shooting trains
in to the seventh crossover and bring-
k he kept up an appear-
tivity that
Daysey Mayme
And Her Folks
finally decided that she would take
her to Mrs. Mordock, who lived only a
few hundred yards from the hospital
and whose little girl was Edith's chum.
She had utterly forgotten Harri -
man’si warning, which was not very
impressive and elected to walk
through the fine rain, to prepare her
self for the long day indoors amid
the odor of anesthetics and other
smells suggestive of merciless clean
liness which make a man shiver when
he enters a hospital.
The streets for a time were quiet
and deserted, and there was nothing
to remind Maud of Harriman's warn
ing. At last she was conscious that
for some time she had been aware of
a far-off murmur which was steadily
growing louder and nearer.
They were still on the oceap side
driveway, but when they turned off
Into the broad avenue that led down
past the hospital to the tunnel en
trance the murmur suddenly swelled
Into a roar.
To Bo Continued Monday.
Snap-
Shots
By FRANCES L. GARSIDE.
F OR six weeks sympathizing friends
had been asking Lysander John
Appleton if he had the rheuma
tism.
“No,” he would reply sadly, trying to
make his legs, which were twisted like
Harry Lauder’s walking stick, stay on
the same sidewalk—“I am sleeping in
the hammock.”
“Your face,” the hoys had been saying
to Chauncey Devere alT summer, “looks
as If you had the smallpox.”
“Marks of the buttons on the parlor
lounge,” was his reply.
Women stand martyrdom better,
thriving on it In a measure, and Mrs.
Appleton and Daysey Mayme bore no
marks of trying to curve their forma
over the trunk top and around the flour
and sugar boxes on the pantry shelf.
No war cry such as “Remember the
Maine!” ever incited soldiers to greater
deeds of frenzy and devotion than the
words “Remember, we have guests,”
have incited women.
“Where,” asked Lysander John one
morning, trying in vain to straighten out
his legs In such a way he could have
both In the kitchen at the pame time,
"are my gray hat and gray suit?”
“Your hat,” replied hls wife, "Is on
the top shelf of the closet of the room
occupied by Mrs. A.; your coat is under
three rows of dresses in the closet of
fhe room occupied by Mrs. B., and your
trousers are being pressed under the
mattress of the bed on which Mrs. C. is
j sleeping. They left word last night they
didn’t want to be wakened before ten
to-day, so go back to your hammock till
they^leave their rooms.”
i The Solution.
Cutting: “Perhaps it did. but I
jute see how that proves it is a
to humanity,"
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Every Woman
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know about the woaderful
Marvel V’**
Douche
fools!” he howled. "Haven’t you got
sense enough to know that concrete
and steel can’t burn? There has been
a small explosion and a few timbers at
the far end of the tunnel have burned
and a lot of cowards ran and started
all of this. The fire will be out In a
short time and you need not ”
A heavy stone struck the floor of the
tonneau just below where he was
standing. The next Instant another
whizzed past his head. He crouched
down, spoke to the chauffeur and the
car dashed out the press and purred
dowji the roadway in a shower of
stones. lie drove madly to Allan’s
house to see If. by any chance, Mrs.
Allan had received anything like a
reply to a telegram he had sent as
soon as he realized what the accident
might develop in the way of compli
cations. *
A mob Is a great beast. It is with-
out moral courage. Being cowardly
The-cry was taken up on every I it is harmless until It is feared. Be-
hnnd. Harrirnan flushed. | ing primitive turns to man’s primi-
"Don’t act like a lot of fools,” he ttve weapon—the stone. This is one
barked angrily. “We don’t know any j of the reasons that the streets of
more about it than you do. Probably i modern cities are paved with asphalt.
th"'« nre a few h.,r. j-ossibiy som- Warped s£nd Stunted.
dead, but we will no everything we r
ran /’ When the distraught Harrirnan fled
This little show of temper had a 'at the first missile the panic and rage
quieting Influence for a time, and tin- f |hp hlirde of m ,. n ilnd women
throng gradually drifted over to the ...
tunnel entrance. And then Harrirnan especially women which the habit
began to get messages from along the j of respect for the ruling powers had
held In check, broke loose. A de
tachment of a few thousand pro
ceeded with a rush to the adminis
tration building, where they smashed
every window in a dozen seconds. A
couple of young engineers appeared
at a window above the entrance with
a revolver in each hand, and this
cooled the desire to enter and seek
further vengeance. Another assistant
phoned to Toms River for troops,
which were always there in antici
pation of just such an outbreak as
seemed now certain to occur.
Roaring threats and curses the
fragment of the mob returned to the
great seething horde at the tunnel en
trance. wrecking the homes of a few
of "the bosses” on the way.
Allan’s chief of police hastily gath
ered as many of his men as he could
and rushed the mob, but his handful
| were scattered by the first volley of
stones, and know ing how heavily they
were outnumbered he was afraid to
give orders to shoot. An unsuccess
ful attempt to break up a mob is
much worse than no attempt at all,
and the flames of destruction roared
higher.
Behind these men and women there
was no tradition of patriotism, no
conception of justice. For genera
tion? they had been bred in social in
justice of the most terrible kind.
Their forefathers had come to Amer
ica as to a land of promise ‘and lib
erty. only t<> find, Uiat they had ex
changed a comparatively light politi
cal slavery for an inhuman industrial
one.
Of this generation that was digging
tunnel the fathers and grand-
ff the train was I fathers had worked in factories and
er of a close- mills and mines as children. Only
he told, in the very strong had survived. They
A Heavy Stone Struck the Door of the Tonneau.
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE
The story opens with Rives, who is in charge of the technical work
ings of thn giypat tunnel from America to Germany, on one of the tunnel
trains with Ba.-rinann, an engineer* in charge of Main Station No. 4 They
are traveling at the rate of 118 miles an hour. Hives is in love with
Maude Allan, wife of Mackendrick Allan, whose mind first conceived the
great tunnel scheme After going about 250 miles under the Atlantic Ocean
Rives gets out of the train. Suddenly the tunnel seems to burst There
Is a frightful explosion Men are flung to death and Rives is badly wounded.
He staggers through the blinding smoke, realizing that about 3,000 men
have probably perished. . He and oher survivors get to Station No. 4.
Hives finds liaermann holding at bay a wild mob of frantic men who want
to climb on a work train, (somebody shoots Baermann. and the train slides out.
The scene is then changed to the roof of the Hotel Atlantic. The greatest
financiers of the country are gathered there at a summons from C. H.
Lloyd, “The Money King ” John Hives addresses them, and introduces Al
lan Mrs Allan and Maude Lloyd, daughter of the financier, are also pres
ent Allan tells the company of hls project for a tunnel 3.100 miles long.
The financiers agree to back him. Allan and Rives want him to take charge
of the actual work Hives accepts. Hives groes to the Park Club to meet Wit- ]
tersteiner. a financier \t Columbus Circle news of the great project is being
flashed on « screen. Thousands are watching it. Mrs Allan becomes a lonely
and neglected woman and is much thrown in the company of Rives. Sydney
Wolf, the money power of two continents, plots against Allan and Rives.
Now Go On With the Story.
ance of uninterrupted
was highly reassuring.
Every man that dropped off of the
outbound trains—the real ones and
the fake ones—was eagerly sur
rounded, but they could tell nothing
— the early arrivals. They had been
on their way out when the explosion
occurred they were working in the
first two hundred miles and knew
nothing but what they had heard.
Still the crowd waited, staring into
the two dark, round openings of the
tubes that stared back like two men-
aelng eyes. And about 9 o’clock came
the first train from the panic district
of the boring. Gray-faced, wild-eyed
men flung themselves from the cars
before the train had come to a stop.
"The tunnel is burning! All hell’s
loose. The tunnel’s burning!”
The thousands took up the terri
ble cry, and In ten minutes Tunnel
City echoed with it from end to end.
Pandemonium broke loose at the en
trance. Frantic women dashed hither
and yon. screaming the names of then
husbands and fathers and sons. Mt i.
cursed and shook their fists and
reached "for Hidden weapons s veral
women fainted, anil here and there
were bursts of hysterical laughter. I th
Every man that cam*' tai" " iv; •
wedged into the e<
packed circle, to which he told,
direst toil could they live, and they
.worked not for an impersonal corpo
ration, but for a man the whole world
knew as "Mac:." He was the father
of x their well-being and their meager
pay envelopes, and by the simple ex
tension of tins primitive logic he was
just a?* surely the author of their mis
fortunes. If he had deliberately
planned the execution of their mates
they could not have been more clam
orous for his blood.
They stood in close-packed thou
sands in the rajn and waited and
waited with yells and threats for the
last word from underground. Thero
was a long delay in which no trains
issued from the staring darkness of
the tubes, but at last the train that
Baermann had tried to hold at the
cost of hls life roared out into the
light. "We’re the last—no more!” the
laborers sobbed and yelled as they
piled out'of the cars in a mad rush, as
if fearing they might be taken back
into the bell which they had escaped.
For a moment there was stunned si
lence, as the dulled wits of the mob
strove to grasp the magnitude of the
blow that had wiped out 3,000 hus
bands and fathers and sons.
Then it was broken by the shrill,
hysterical screaming of a woman un
der the lee of one of the cars. She
was standing or crouching over the
last man to leave the train. He had
been carried off. dead, stabbed to
death in a fight for place on that
"hist train."
"Cesare! Osare!" s«he shrieked,
again and again.
And then there was bedlam.
Telling Mrs. Allan.
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It. If he cannot sup
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accept no other, but
send stamp (or book.
Marvel Cm., 44 E. 234 St., LT.
broken, tremulous phrases, the story \ had j
of the terrible panic. None knew any ilrvh
of the details of the explosion. warp<
*In the midst of this chaos Harri- merit,
man drove up in his car. waving hls in th
hand and shouting. A few hundred
gathered around him, and he bel
lowed at the top of his lungs in a
vain effort to make his words carry.
"Cut this out and don’t act like—
duoed a race of iron-muscled,
men and women, but utterly
and stunted morally and
ly. For years they had toiled
dust and darkness. In a dim
they understood that what they
were working in would one day be a
means of transportation under the
seas to a mysterious "Europe.” Bui
they worked because only by the
No word from Allan at the office.
Harrirnan dashed at top speed
through the streets to the chief’s
douse. He passed scores and hun
dreds of shawled women and coatless
men hastening all in one direction—
tow ard the tunnel. He c losed his eyes
and tried to rally his 7 mind, still par
tially numbed from the effect of the
narcotic and the suddenness of the
disaster. Leaving his car at the curb,
he ran up the steps of the oceunside
home and asked to see Mrs. Allan at
once.
"She’s just rising, I think," the
I maid told him.
I s "Please tell her it Is very impor
tant. Do you know if she has heard
from Mr. Allan?*
"A telegram just came a moment
ago. I don’t know whom It was from. ’
"Please tell her I would like to see
•her at once.”
Maud came down in a dressing
gown with the telegram in her hand.
"What is it. Mr. Ilairiman?’ shf
asked pleasantly, but with a shade of
anxiety. "Has anything happened?
Can you explain this?”
She handed him the telegram. It
read: "Will be home to-night. Don’t
worry.”
“Do you know what’s happened in
the tunnel?” he asked abruptly.'
"No; my maid said she had heard
there’d been an accident.” She was
regarding the usually composed engi
neer with some wonder. "Is it very
serious?”
A Terrible Shock.
"I am afraid it is," he replied,
gravely but quietly. There was no
sense in alarming a woman.
•What is it?” she demanded
quickly.
"There’s been an explosion at tty*
extreme end of the boring on this
side,” he told her. "We don’t know
yet how serious It Is. but I am afraid
that a lot of men have been hurt—
perhaps killed."
Maud suddenb- went deathly white
ami unconsciously crushed the little
yellow paper in her small fingers.
"Where Is Ja—Mr. Rives?” she
asked, forcing herself with tremen
dous effort to speaK steadily.
The gray-haired man passed his
hand across hls closed eyes a/id shud
dered. %
"I wish to God I knew!” he ex
claimed. "1"
"He was—down there?" Her lips
were white, but her manner was cairn.
"I’m sorry, but he was. It isn’t any
use. Mrs. Allan,” he said desperately,
. “I can’t conceal it from you. I’m
j afraid the accident is just about as
bad as it can be. That’s why I’m
crazy to get Mr. Allan here as quick-
| ly as possible. I’ve got to get along
now. and—by the way, there is likely
to be a good deal of excitement, anti I
wouldn’t roam around much if I were
you.”
“I. won’t,” said the woman, dully.
And he was gone
Maud gioped her way back up
stairs to her dressing room, where
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she locked herself in and sank into a
chair, stunned. So this was the
quick end of all of It! Minute after
minute slipped away, and she tried in
vain to rally her whirling thoughts
and think clearly while that one sen
tence rang over and over again In her
ears—“this is the end of it all.”
It was characteristic of her that she
did not weep as the full realization
came to her. In spite of the fact of
her marriage arid her child, some
thing had come to her of which she
had long ceased to dream—the stain
less love of a knightly hearted man.
She had hardly s’ept in the night for
the wonder of it. She had felt that
she was not worthy, that this was not
for her, and here was the proof. She
knew enough of the tunnel workings
to know that if there had been an ac
cident, and Rives had not been heard
from, it was because he was incapable
of action—dead or during. ,
Then came a swift rush of rage and
bitter rebellion against the tunnel and
all who wrought in Its name. What
bad it brought her but misery? It
had cost her her husband first, and
now the one man who was of fiber
fine enough to place her love beyond
all else bad been swallowed up in its
maw in the twinkling of an eye. About
her were thousands who were toiling
swiftly toward the grave in pain and
weariness. Probably thousands of
these had been wiped out with Rives,
and as many thousands of women
found themselves that day as desolate
as she.
She would leave that day and go
somewhere where she would nevei
hear the accursed word "tunnel”
again, and—then came a timid knock
at the door, and little Edith’s voice
calling.
A poet who knew women—as poets
are likely to—once told in graceful
little lines of a woman whose lord
| was slain, and who could not be in-
| duced to weep until a wise nurse put
} her child in her arms. Five minutes
1 after Edith had snuggled into her lap
i the mother had given the woman a
| new and cleaner vision.
"You run along now, darling, and
get dressed,’’ she told her with a kiss.
"You’re <oing oftt with mother.”
The Mob.
The anger and bitterness had
J passed. She was no longer the lover
robbed of her love. She was a wom
an, and all about her was the call to
which a woman is never deaf—the
cry of suffering and grief and misery.
Hundreds would be injured and they
would be brought out and taken to
the hospital. There would be wives
, and mothers to console and comfort.
I The hospital forces and supplies
would probably have to be reinforced
from other cities. All this was part
of her chosen work, and this was the
! one time that she must not fail.
When they were about to leave she
■ reflected that the hospital of all
places would be the last one for Edith
] to spend the day. But to-day, more
i than any other, she felt reluctant to
! leave the child w ith the servants. She
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T HE bitter wound set to our
keenest pain
Time soothes;
The furrow in our brow will go
again—
Time soothes.
If memory wakens suffering at last,
We feel;
Life moves in struggle to forget
the past.
Hearts heal.
But still the wound a little scar
has left—
Dream days
Arise in thought—of sing hey are
bereft.
There stays
But memory that stirs the old re
frain,
A little sob sounds ii> the heart
and brain,
And then "to-day” is here again.
Time soothes.
• • •
What a grim thing it is! that you
and I
So intimate, so bound by every’ tie.
Can never read each other’s secret
thought— ,
Must he contented with the glimpse
we’ve caught!
Can face each other calmly, eye to
eye,
And. with our souls protesting, speak
a lie—
That w’hile you wound me with in
difference.
Or cruel words, or meager recom-'
pense, your heart with love for
me may be aglow.
Yet looking in your eyes—I can not
KNOW.
A FICTIONLESS FABLE.
There was once a woman whom Life
hurt. It drained her heart of Joy, and
left It empty and throbbing with sor
row. She bore It moaning for a time
and then she set about filling the empty
shell. She seized upon all the things
that lay near at hand and packed them
tightly into the throbbing loneliness of
her barren heart
There were Cards and Song and
Dancing and Wine and Gay Compan
ions and Loud Merrymaking, and she
forced them all—a motley company—
Into the cold emptiness of her desola
tion. Oblivion, and the forgetfulness she
sought did not come, but fever and ex
citement kept her brain whirling far
away from the sadness of reality.
It chanced one day that True Love
passed by, and he stopped at the door
of her heart. He knocked, but the ears
of her Soul were dulled with minstrelsy
and its eyes were blinded by the glare
and glitter of revelry, so neither Heart
nor Soul could tell the woman that he
who stood without was True Love.
At last—and timidly—Love opened the
door of the Heart that offered him no
welcome, but when he saw how crowd
ed that heart was with tinsel and paste
jewels, he sighed. “Alas! there Is no
room for me,” and went his way.
And the woman went on playing that
she was happy and content.
But Love—hurt and slighted—would
not pass that way again forevermore.
—LILIAN LAVFFERTY.
Half an hour later, forgetting his di
lemma, she carried off the suit he had
been wearing to the cleaner's.
A few minutes later the telephone
rang, and Lysander John, reafizing that
his wife had gone out and hls daughter
was still asleep on the pantry shelf, fell
out of hls hammock to answer it.
"The offTce is on fire,” called his as
sistant. "Better get a taxi and come
at once.”
He couldn't find his brown suit, and,
remembering his wife’s directions of
where he would find the gray, burst
into the room occupied fly Mrs. A.
“Fire!” he managed to stammer, trying
th make the closet door shield him, as
he threw out layer after layer of skirts,
petticoats, waists, kimonos, jackets,
dresses and coats. “Fire!” he screamed,
growing so excited he threw the gar
ments out of the window ih trying to
dig his way down to hls coat.
“Fire!” he howled a moment later,
pulling down twenty hat boxes from
the shelves of the oloset of the room
where slept Mrs. B and pitching them
out the window.
"Fire!” he howled In greater despeeg.
tion in the third room, upsetting the
guest out of bed In an effort to get his
trousers from under the mattress, and
"Fire!” "^ire!” “Fire!” began all the
guests at once, thinking the house was
ablaze.
In th© excitement Lysander John
failed to find what he wanted and rushed
out of the hou9© with a pale pink pic
ture hat on hls head, a blue silk ki
mono over his shoulders, and his Harry
Lauder walking-stick legs concealed In
a petticoat.
"I refuse to be hailed out,” he said
defiantly next day to a friend. "I am a
guest here, and It is the first chajice
I’ve had to sleep on a bed all summer.”
Fiction.
In Aiken they tell this story as having
happened In Augusta, but In Augusta
they tell the same story on a clergyman
of Aiken:
“A very devout clergyman decided to
take up golf as a means of outdoor
exercise.
“Buying a kit of tools and hiring a
caddy, the good man hit the trail for
the links and teed up for a drive-off.
At the first swing he missed the ball by
about six yards. At the next swat ha
got a little nearer, hut was still too far
away to cause the ball any great in
convenience.
“Several more swings that racked hla
ribs, and finally the clergyman hit the
little sphere. Instead of beautifully sail
ing away over the scheduled route, how
ever, it took a side road at the right an
gles, ricocheted down over in the box
cars and semaphores.
“ ‘That settles it,’ exclaimed the dis
appointed clergyman in a decisive voice,
T have got to give it up!’
“ ‘What!’ exclaimed the caddy, won-
deringly. ‘Give up golf?’
” ‘No,’ was the quick response bf the
clergyman, ‘the ministry.’ ”
THROUGH SLEEPERS
Lt.7:12ASL5:MPM.