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+THE GEORGIANS MAGAZINE PAGE—
THE CINDERELLA MAN
A S(lzr;'al o.f. Ha}op.y Hearts ‘
Novelized from Oliver Morosco's pro
. duction of the Broadway success, by
Edward Childs Carpenter, now playing
&t the Hué<nn Theater, New York.
(Copyright, 1916, International News
: Service.)
By ANN LISLE.
HERE was nothing to say. Very
T reverently Tony picked up thoj
little gray cloak and laid it
over the girl's shoulders; very genl’y‘
he led her over to the window and
helped her out onto the snowy little
roof that would never offer them a
path for crossing again; and then al
most as if she were a saint in a shrine
Tony stooped and kissed her hand.
Then he closed the glass casings aga'n
and stood staring nito his room. ior
a week It had house4d Romance and
now it had been defiled
The boy walked over to the table
where lay “The Gateway of Dreams.”
He was very young, and he had been
brave for a long time, and through
the bitterest discouragement. But
now for a moment he buried his head
- in his arms and sobbed. It was not
_in Tony Quintard’s nature to whimper
_or to refuse to face life, and suddenly
;he saw again the bright side of
- things.
~ His manuscript must win, and then,
perhaps, he might go into the home
next door and take his little Fairy
Godmother out into a world whare
' there were no She Bears and no hit
terness. But suddenly he found that
he had not full faith in his opera—the
last act—he must change that. And
_then he must find a new place to liva,
He could never be happy In that room
again.
Poor little Marjorie crept home
~and sobbed out some of her shame
~and unhappiness in her own dainty
room. Somehow she got through the
night and the day that followed and a
%whole week of days and nights that
were the saddest she had ever known,
Her oniy consolation in the days that
followed came from visits which
Primrose made to her. From him she
’ot her only news of Tony. Anil
‘though Blodgett, the stately butler cf
‘the Caner home, was scornful of shab
by old Primrose and very much dis
‘gusted at his visit, Tony's kind »d
frieng was more welcome to Marjorie
-flun all else the long days brought.
. Touy bad betaken himself to live
Wwith Primrose’s slster-in-law's aunt!
?And Marjorie had to comfort herself
for not seeing him by conniving with
%‘Prlmruae as to ways of smuggling
- dainty tidbits, such as never before
ihd graced the family table at No.
;'-511 1-2 McDougall alley, down to that
@bode in order to tempt the failing
?i;ppetlte of Tony Quintard. But never
» word or a message came from thni
B’:;uey to the avenue other than just a|
An Undersea Romance
; By GARRETT P. SERVISS.
: CORRESPONDENT asks if a
A sponge is animal life.
Sponges are among the
most wonderful and puzzling of ani
mals. The sponge of our bathrooms
is the soft skeleton of one of the spe
cles of this remarkable creature,
which represents one of the very old
- est forms of life on our globe, having
lasted through successive geologic
~ periods for tens of millions of years,
although it belongs to an offshoot
which “has led to,nothing else” —that
is to say, which has produced by evo
lution no higher forms than itself.
If you will visit the American Mu
seum of Natural History you will see
specimens and models of sponges that
will fill you with amazement and ad
" miration by their intricate and beau
tiful shapes and their delicate and
- varied colors.
~ A living sponge Is a kind of cell
city. If you can imagine thousands
of Siamese twins all joined into one
composite hody you will have an idea
of the kind of multiplex animal that
& sponge is
- But, of course, you must not drive
the comparison too far. A cell has
life and activity, but it has ne organs
s".ko a higher and more complex ani
g-d.‘ “Sponges,” says a zoologist (J.
A. Thomson), are living thickets in
- which many small animals play hide
~ Formerly many thought that
v were a kind of seaweed. They
attached to rocks, shells and
« objects in the water. and nearly
all live in the sea. although there is a
h-water species Fnlled spongilla,
i skeleton or framework of a
M' is formed, In some species, of
i te of lime (which constitues
i Mfeater part of our own bones);
: er species, of silica, a flinty sub
: ice; and in still others, of a horn
-1 material.
N mnlos manage to draw their food
¢ their reach by seiting up cur
' in the water. If you and your
were inicroscopic organisms,
in the neighborhood of a
you might some morning find
t you were being swept along by a
‘gentle current, as soothingly unsug
gestive of its real import as the little
shore eddies a mile above Niagara;
and when, too late, you awoke to the
situation, you would be rushing
through a crooked tube, with hun
dreds of cilla (living hairs) reaching
for you from every side, and you and
Yours would quickly become the sub- |
Jects of “intra.cellular digestion.”
;oweuor Thomson, whom I have
e N RR T P T T M U PR R
flower bought at the expehse cf
|lunches and breakfast which Tony
: sent by Primrose to “Miss Mudge”
| each day.
The happlest moment Marjorie's
long week knew was the tearful grati
tude of poor old Primrose on the day
she broke it to him that she intended
|to engage him as her footman, and
| that his very first duty was to convey
| to McDougall alley a supper to temnpt
| the falling appetite of Tony Quintard
|—¢lam broth, white meat of chicken,
| asparagus tips on toast, vanilla ice
| cream and lady fingers!'
Marjorie had a very wonderful time
| planning that feast. And she prom
ised herself quite faithfully that she
would not torture her father, whose
| interest and affection were growing
apace, by falling to eat her own din
ner that night. She would have just
| what she was sending Tony, and
| would pretend they were eating it to
gether,
Marjorie had” been a real source of
worry all that week to her father and
his friends, Only Romney understood
the situation—and there was a hiatus
in his information, since he knew
| nothing of the romance-destroyingz
She Bear; however, since Romney
had cast himself for the part of Ro
mance creator, it seemed to him full
time that he make another move 'n
the game,
Circumstances assisted him vesy
nicely, for he and “Papa” Sewell were
invited to dine at the Caner home on
the evening before the committee re
ported on the success of the books
submitted for the ten-thousand-dollar
opera. So Romney scribbled a litile
note and left it to Romance to com
plete her own story.
For a week Marjorie had shown
interest in nothing at all, but when
Boldger announced “Mr. Sewell” sha
showed a very deep and absorbing in
terest and one that was quite charm-
Ingly unashanmted in the report of (he
committee on Mr, Quintard’s opera.
“Isn’t it wonderful!"” she gasped.
“I'm sorry--but the committee will
| not have it—no—no!" returned Sewell
quietly,
Marjorie was unable to believe him.
| “Won't have it?—That's Impossible
| It's—it's too—too beautifull”
“Fine! Fine! Yes—yes—so we all
| thought—until we came to the last
act! But what does your idol of an
| author do then?—he ruined hisg story
| by, ending it tragically! The thing
J rahn for a happy ending. That's al
| there is to it. Belleve me!"”
: Old “Papa” Sewell Lad a vague sus
| picion that generous little Marjorie
| was interested in the young man
‘| whose story had been t .d her.
: (To Be Continued Moncay.)
already quoted, gives this very
graphic description of the way iln
which a cup-shaped sponge lives:
“The particles are drawn in
through minute pores all over the
surface of the sponge; they pass into
the cavity of the cup, and they are
driven out again in a stream from
the large upper aperture. To what
are the currents due? Obviously to
the lashing activity of the ciliated
cells.
“The community is Venicelike, pen
etrated by canals. By these, food and
other necessaries are continually sup
plied to the houses, or cells, on the
banks, and a constant current is sus
tained by the life of the city.”
But many sponges are very much
more complicated than the simple
cup-shaped variety described by Pro
fessor Thomson. Their general
scheme of living, however, is about
the same,
Sponges spread like plants by
building. They also have sexes. In
the calcareous sponges the ovum is
fertilized by the germ-cell borne to it
by water. From the ovum emerges a
hollow sphere consisting of cells, and
this sphere i{s for a time a free
swimming organism which finally
fixes itself for life to a rock Then
the true sponge, in the forms which
we know, begins to grow.
The fresh-water sponges die in the
autumn, except that certain groups
of cells, forming “gemmules,” survive
during the winter, and in the spring
float away to form new sponges.
These consist of Mmales, which are
short-lived, afd females, which live
longer. From the latter is born an
other generation, which dies in the
autumn like the first.
Sponges have enemies, such as bur
fowing worms, and it has been
thought that the sharp spiculae, or
fiint knives, which many of them con
tain, and which cut like little razor
blades, form a part of their defensive
armament.
Some of them, however, are them
selves aggressive. There is a minute
species which bores holes in oyster
shells, and others fasten themselves
to crabs and thus get carried about.
The most remarkable of these lit
tle traveling sponges is a small,
orange-colored species which selects
for its domicile a buckle shell that is
Inhabited by a hermit crab, as if it
knew that in this way t would get a
free ride for life. Sometimes, it is
sald, the sponge bores clear through
the shell and thus spolls its auto, for
then the crab gets out.
His “Great Tove™
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"l yLO . WYY E i
L . L o J M
e — W y;
OR her—the Musc w. verse awoke anu ue begun
F to match word to word to make a Valentine.
For her he washed his thin neck every day and
stayed awake In church. And for her sake he faced a
spoonful of black medicine—looked it in the eve and
drank it down-—and smiled, because she said that he
was brave.
L- - .
A Man I know, who owns a small, dear son with
golden hair that stands on end; gray eyes, and a
mouth like a sleek strawberry, mused and spoke.
And what he said was this: “1 want my small son to
know girls. He will get plenty of boys, and fights, and
lessons In valor, and rough good-heartedness. and
blows In the face without my leading him by that
way ; plenty to make a man of him if the man spirit is
there,
“But this I will take the trouble to do--to see that
he knows girls—llittle, big, or woman grown. But the
feminine thing who will paint the silver lining on his
brusque iron cloud, who will make him to know what
softness, tenderness, delicacy, loveliness is. And on
| that knowledge he will draw in what ever he works at
all life long. From that his faith in all fine and lovely
things will spring.
“Where is the man who was really a good great
man who had not fair ideals. What is a man or a boy
without that hand behind him-—the good hand of
§F2lf駧\f£9m Here and There
Same Method.
Gus Miller, a traveling man, paused
to watch a small colored youth who
stood on one foot, inclined his wooly
‘head far to one side, and pounded
vigorously on his skull with the palm
of his right hand.
““Hello, kid,”” grinned the drummer,
whose memory was carried back to
his own boyhood days by the familiar
action. “What are you doing?"’
“Got watah lin mah ear,”” announced
the boy.
“Oh-ho,”” laughed the drummer,
“I know just how that {s. 1 often have
felt like that after being In swimming."
“Swimmin' nuffin’'!" the youth ex
clalmed, disdainfully, *“Ah been eatin’
watahmilyun." —Harper's.
- . .
Humor in the Trenches.
In his book, “With Our Army in Flan
ders,” Valentine Willlams says that hu.
mor I 8 probably the largest component
of the spirit of the British soldler. A
Jack Johnson bursts close beside a Brit-
~ Womuu; the nana of down and steel! For the sake of
all the lovely women and small girls I have known,
and the sweetness that they offered me for mine to
hold in my lfe, do 1 do any brave thing, any good
~ thing, any tender, any big thing that humble I have
~ done.
| “And here's a heart of pity for the small chap who
has never known the great Love-—the worship of ten
years old for feminine nineteen. And here’s may any
maid be proud to own the adoration of a child!
| “Once I washed my neck faithfully for many woeks
f for a iall, slim girl who read me boy hero tales.*
Agginst her lovely crinkly plaited frock I leaned with
her kind arm around me, and together we builded
tales of adventure mighty and impossible! For she
was child and woman, too, and glad to run from her
done-up hair and high heels and beaux to a tale and a
toasted apple with a small worshipper.
“She believed 1 was brave and without fear—she
said so—and far away from her. for that, I took my
~ medicine both then and sow! She said I could do any
| thing, and so I wrote her verses, and still I dare to
~ write them—see! She sald that I was truthful, and so
for her I washed my neck beyond the boundary line of
jaw and ear even when no one saw! And still Ido a
little more than what I must for her. :
“My son shall not miss that!"
NELL BRINEKLEY.
Ish soldier who is lighting his pipe with
one of those odious French sulphur
matches. The shell blows a foul whiff
of chemicals right across the man's face.
‘Oh, dear,’ he exclaims, with a per
fectly genuine sigh, ‘these 'ere French
matches will be the death of me!" "
. & -
Where They Roll.
A young mother who still considers
marcel waves the most fashionable way
of dressing the halr was at work.
The precocious child was crouched on
its father's lap, the baby fingers now
and then sliding over the smooth and
glossy pate which is father's.
““No waves for you, father,” remark
ed the little one. “You're all beach.” —
Christlan P:ndu.vor. \\'.orkl.
Looked Like Him.
Sandy had been photographed, and as
he was looking intently at his ‘ploter”’
Tam McPherson came along,
“What's that ye hiv theer?" he anked.
“My photygraph,” replied Sandy,
w‘b& By NELL BRINKLEY
e
Copyright, 1916, International News Service.
N N RTINS o~y
\
showing it proudly. ‘“‘Whit d'ye think
o 1t
[ “Mon, it's fine.,” exclaimed Tam in
great admiration. “It's just like ve, tae,
An' whit mich the like o' they cost?”
“I dinna ken,” replied Sandy. *“1 din
na peyvd yet.” -~
“Mon,” sald Tam, more firmly than
ever, “it's awful like ye!"—Philadelphia
Publie Ledger. \
- - -
On the Lookout.
At the breakfast table little Tommy
was not behaving himself. His father
reproved him more than once for play
g with the cruet, but Tommy sti!
went on doing it
At last he upset it and all the pep
ver was scattred over the cloth. .
“Now, Tommy,"” said his father se
verely, “you have been disobedient and
spilled the papper! It would serve
vou right if 1 punished you by put
ting that pepper in your mouth!"
“Would you punish me in the same
way if 1 upset the sugar bowl?"' re
torted Tommy quickly
What Happened to Jane
By Virginia Terhune Van de
Water.
s e
CHAPTER LX.
(Copyright, 1916, Star Company.)
HE trained nurse from Patton-
T ville listened pityingly to the,
agonized moans’for help, to the
lmnnotonous counting of footsteps or
Im’ the ticking of an lmaginary'_clock
—Ssometimes it was one, sometimes
the other. “One, two—one, two,” the
girl would whisper,
Again and again the nurse resolved
that,- no matter what happened, she
: would never repeat certain sentences
’uttered by her delirious patient.
i Day after day passed. Augustus
| . :
lßeoves lawyer came from Pattqn
ville and made all the funeral ar
rangements after the Coroner had
'tulfilled his duties. 4
The farmer’s body was laid beside
that of his first wife in the little cem
etery back of the church, The curi
ous crowd that followed it to its last
resting place wondered morbidly
whether the girl whom he had mar
ried less than a half year ago woulid
soon be laid here, too. Well, she had
paid dearly for her ambition to be
come rich! And she had always been
80 sweet and simple before her mar
riage!
Ruth Crosby sobbed convulsively as
she tried to speak of the tragedy.
Poor Jane! She had not beé’n happy
—Ruth was sure of this now. The
resentment she had felt toward the
young wife was forgotten in this new
’hnn‘or.
For, it was whispéred in the vil
lage, if Jane Reeves should live, she
would be arrested for the slaying of
her husband.
Edward Sanderson had read of tha
gruesome tragedy in the city papers.
At first he found it hard to believe
!the evidence of his own senses. As a
;rulo, he shunned the stories such 2s
| this. He had no morbid taste for the
horrible. But just as he was about to
turn his eyes away from the details cf
the murder of “a wealthy farmer up
the State,” the name of the place in
which the crime had been committed
seemed to start up out of the print
and strike him.
“Miiton!” he exclaimed. The name
brought with it a flood of memories,
and for a moment he looked out of
the window of his oflice at the strip ot
blue sky that showed above the top of
lthe brick building next door. Ah,
would he ever forget? Would those
!bitter-sweet memories ever cease o
!smb and wound? !
|
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
i“ WAS to see a picture show‘
I last night,” said the Mani
cure Lady, “and it was so
' sad that I cried right in the theater.
gM_v escort looked kind of cheap, be
| cause he didn't bring no handker
chief, and mine got so damp 1 couldn’t
use it no more.” ’
“It ain't no disgrace to have a
tender heart,” said the Head Barber.
“l 1 wish my landlord was gaited more
that way”
“This picture was about a young
girl that was jilted at the last min
ute,” said the Manicure Lady. “She
read them cruel words which he wrote
to her, and then she put on her
bridal dress and tried to kill herself.
Her mother came in just in time andl
Isaved her.”
“If 1 was a girl 1 wouldn't kill my
self for no gent,” said the Head Bar
ber. *“Gents is too easy to get if a
girl is wise, and, of course, if I had
teen a girl I would have been a wise
one.”’
“Of course!” said the Manicure
Lady, freezingly. “Of course, you
would be a.Qvise girl. I don't see what
keep§ your® brains from oozing out
SIRPNS NN NPOPNIONINSONTOINT s ~TIATUT T STI S S oe e
In Our Wonderful World
T is acknowledged that platinum,
l although it lacks the beauty of
color that gold has, is the costliest
useful metal in the world. The chief
supply of crude platinum comes from |
the Ural Mountaing, in Russia, the out
put of which in 1912 was about 300,000
troy ounces, as against 314,000 from all
countries. Platinum has been used ex
tensively in the manufacture of electric
light bulbs, and in recent years has be
come pepular .for mounting pregious
stones, especially diamonds; but it is
in the chemical laboratory shat plati
num serves its most useful purposes.
It is unaffected by the attack of the
strongest acid, although it sometimes
becomgs brittle when exposed to cer
tain acids in combination. It melts only
at the intense heat of about 1,763 de
grees Centigrade. Iron melts at 1,550
degrees Centigrade. ‘
.= . 1
A screen which can be used with an
ordinary inverted incandescent mantle
to produce artificial daylight has been
invented. This seems to be the first
time that the method has been applied
in a practical form to gas. The appa
ratus coneists of a box receptacle whit
ened inside, which \receives light from
the inverted mantle within the dome
like reflector mounted above it. Under
neath this reflector there are two dou-‘
ble plates of glass, the color of which
e i I I Pt
He glanced again at the paper. It
would be odd if the name of the per
son wao had been Kkilled were one
which he recalled. He thought he had
forgotten everybody in Milton except
| the one person who had filled all his
horizon. Nobody else mattered. And
she was worse than dead to him.
And then he read the name of the
man she had married. He was glad
he was alone now, for the walls of
the little office in which he was seated
swam and swayed strangely. He
grasped the dge of his desk with both
hands and read on, his eyes wide and
dark, his face pale and his brea‘h
coming fast,
Dead! Murdered! And Jane—what
about Jane? He must know! IHe
MUST know!
P Preoccupation.
This thought possessed him day and
night. He ate little and slept less for
;the next few dave, Hekreg & ness.
paper man who had been put on this
case. Sanderson sought him out and
tried to make him talk. ‘
} It was through him that e learned
of the horrible suspicion that was
growing in Milton. He learnéd, too,
‘that perhaps the suspected wife would‘
never be brought to trial, that she was
so {II that she might die.
Of course, he (Edward Sanderson)
knew that it was all a hideous mis
take, just as that wicked marridge
had been. He had never been able to
believe that Jane had sold herself—
until his letters to her had come back
‘'unopened. He had sometimes won
dered since her marriage if she had
really known.of those epistles. For he
had written several times after got
ting back his first unopened ietter,
but all his communications had been
returned. He had even sent Jane a
note a few days before he met her
and Reeves walking on Fifth avenue.
When he saw her with Reeves there,
he knew that she was married, and
had never written to her after that.
Now, however, he must know the
truth. And one day he boarded a
train for Milton.
He wondered afterward how he
had endured the hours spent in that
journey out there and back, and the
ordeal of seeing and talking to her
father in the room in which he had
sat and talked with her. in days
that were dead.
The lure of the spring was over
the land 6n this afternoon in early
May. The buds on the fruit trees
were beginning to swell. The grass
was a light green; the smell of
growing things was in the air. A blue
bird flew over the little lawn in front
The ManlCUreL;dy
of your ears, peorge‘ If you had been
living in them days, Mister Sockrates
would have been working 'for you.
“I'll tell you one thing, though. Isa
Young man ever trifled with my young
heart and I got wise to it, I would
make a awful tramp out of him be
fore I got through. I think that kind
of a man is a awful low sort, George,
even if he happens to be a rich aristo
crat. As Mister Tennyson once said,
‘Kind hearts is mcre than coroners.’”
“This is a funny old world,” mused
the Head Barber. “Sometimes I think
some of us gets more than our share,
the same as I did whan I married the
Missus. 1 never deserved no such
grand girl. And when I think how
I've got her and then think how lots
|of better fellows got stung, it seems
to me I'm a pretty lucky dog even if
my horses don’t always win for me.”
“Of course, you're lucky, George,
but not no more than you deserve to
be. I only hope that when I have
whispered Yes and walk up the aisle
of the church I will be walking along
side as true a gent as you are, only
more fiandsome."
“I never was much on looks, I
know,” said the Head Barber. “When
is selected with a view to Becuring an
exact imitation of a natural north light,
- - .
A wood-splitting machine has been
invented which automatically handles
logs two feet long and eighteen inches
thick. It is run by a three-horsepower
gasoline engine, and conssits mainly of
a huge knife, which works through the
knottiest wood at the rate of sixty
strokes a minute,
§
§ Do You Know— |
(
e M A
In proportion to Its size, Monaco
produces richer royal revenue than
any other country.
. - -
Italy, Spain and Turkey are the
only countries in Europe which do
not pay their M, P.'s.
- . -
Huge masses of salt are to be seen
in some sections of Roumania, for the
salt deposits cdver an enormous area,
and have a thickness varying from
about 600 to 800 feet. At Sarat there
is a mountain of salt, and steam
shovels can be used to load the wait
ing cars. In other cases the gallery
system is employed, and electrically -
driven machines turn out blocks a
cubic yatd in size, like great pieces of
granits.
Edward Sanderson Goes
to Milton to Help Her
)
A R R A e A .
of the Hardy house as Sanderson went
up the path. o
His talk with BEzra—now changed
to a bent old man—was brief. Na¢
had said little by way of introduc
tion, but had demanded bluntily
what the father knew of those let
ters which had been returned un
opened. ;
Ezra, never strong in character,
was now too broken and subdued to
resent the young man’s manner and
speech, and made a clean breast of
the whole affair, withholding noth
ing, softening nothing. What dif
ference could it make? Augustus was
dead—Jane might be going to die.
The Possibility.
His voice broke as he spoke of this
{ast possibility, and Sanderson laid a
gentle hand on the bowed shoulders.
“Please God she'll get well!” he
murmured, his throat contracting
painfully. ¢
But even as he said it he remom:-
bered what life might mean to her,
what horror of anguish she might
have to tace. If he could only help
her, could only let her know 'that he
would believe in her in spite of the
whole world.
“If there is any change, will vou
send me word?” he begged when he
was leaving the house.
Ezra looked at him curiously, and
something he saw in the frank eyes
smote him as he remembered how
he had deceived this man, He
must have 'oved Jane very much, he
thought weakly.
“Yes, yes, I'll iet you know, I'll let
you know,” the father promised.
'As Edward Sanderson went softly
down the steps, he heard a low moa:
from the rl‘oom over the porch where
the window was stretched wide open
He recollected that this used to be
Jane's room,
A mist came to his eves and he
clenched his hands until the nails bit
into the flesh. That this thing should
have come to HER—the sweetest, the
dearest—oh, he could not bear it!
When he had reached his own
rooms and sat down to think, he tried
to derive some comfort in reflecting
that, after all, Jane had never re
turned his letters to him.
She haa been sacrificed to a co:
scienceless suitor and to a weak
father. .
‘‘Between them they've ecrushed
her, killed her — my darling! my
darling!” he groaned.
And although he was a great
strong man. he was not ashamed
Iwhen he broke down and sobbed like
a woman,
(To Be Continued.)
I was a kid they used to call me
Frogface. That ain’'t no pet name, no
way you figure it, because nobady
ever seen a frog that you could cal!
handsome. Their eyes is pig, but too
buigy, and they ain't no expression
Their faces never lights up.”
. “No, frogs certainly ain't hand -
some,” agreed the Manicure Lady,
“but whoever started that nickname
on you must have beenh kind of jeal -
ous. You ain’t the handsomest man
in the world, George, but goodness
Knows you are above the average, and
when a man gets too handsome he
ain't usually a good provider.
“One of my neighbors uptown is
married to a man that looks like a
Greek god and provides for her like a
Greek peddler. There is Greeks and
Creeks, and she got a little of both
kinds.
“My nature is one of them gentie
kind, George, like a rippling river, but
when it overflows everybody usually
takes to the high ground.”
“I've noticed that,” said the Head
Barber, admiringly. “Nobody gets
Very gay around you. At least, I nev -
er seen noboiy.”
“No, you never seen nobady,” said
the Manicure Lady. “No gent ever
treated me disrespectful for more
than 'twq or three seconds, and thev
lbetter not had!”
! f
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243
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I \e.ai Y 7 AN
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