The Tribune--Democrat. (Enid, Okla. Terr.), Vol. 2, No. 39, Ed. 1 Saturday, June 15, 1895 Page: 3 of 8
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VIRGINIA W.JOHNSON. ^
copyright 1892 BY RAND.MCNALLY a co. J
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tNGER NATIONAL PRE66 AS6N
CHAPTER VI.—(Continued)
Her thoughts dwelt on Dr. Busatti,
as the first young* man in whose
ej*es she had ever read a
dawning" admiration. The purchase
of the dress was distinctly traceable to
such a source. She was accustomed to
his presence, pondered on his words
during his absence, and found it agree-
able to watch for his return. Fickle
Dolores! The unexpected intrusion of
Che young naval officer, Arthur Cur-
zon, handsome, amiable and full of
youthful animation, banished speedily
preference for the sallow and thin
Maltese physician. Iler pulses still
fluttered, as the blood coursed more
rapidly through her veins, at the recol-
lection of his visit. Should she ever
sec him again? Why not? Then, as
her needle flew, her dream deepened.
The Knight of Malta, in polished
armor, would come to the garden
gate in a golden chariot and lead her
away. Are the knights all dead, and
must the world grow so old anil sad as
to lose all faith in the actual existence
of these splendid cavaliers? Stay!
what was he like? Ilad she ever truly
gazed upon his face?
She paused, with her needle up-
lifted, and her features contracted in
meditation.
At this moment, Florio sprang up
and uttered the most miniature of
fierce canine barks.
Dolores glanced about her, with a
little gasp of wonder.
Lieut. Curzon, after a preliminary
raj>!| pushed open the gate and entered
the inclosure without ceremony. His
face glowed with a smile of satisfac-
tion, as his glance sought the girl,
seated beside the fountain with her
work.
Each paused in silence and gazed at
the other, Dolores with indefinable ap-
prehension, and the young man with
an eagerness of which he was uncon-
scious. The soul of the girl spoke
through her eyes with an instinctive,
appealing grace, and Lieut. Curzon
was again thrilled through with an
-emotion that occasioned a quickened
heart-throb beneath his uniform.
"Good day," he said, at length, ad-
vancing and extending his hand.
"Good day," replied Dolores, placing
her small brown fingers on his brown
palm, and dropping thimble and
scissors in the act.
Florio growled, menacingly, and
seized the boot of the intruder in his
teeth.
"I trust j'our grandpapa
all right," continued the visi-
tor, retaining the little hand
in his grasp rather longer than cere-
monious politeness exacted.
"Yes! thanks," demurely. "Shall I
jail him?"
"No! Give me another moment
first."
"As many moments as you wish.
You were so good to poor grandpapa
that day," and gratitude brought a
warm tide of rose color to the velvety
cheek, a moisture to the brilliant eyes.
"Was I good?" He forgot his mis-
lion, and everything else in the world,
except the piquant face before him,
which fascinated him strangely.
\
"QOOI) DAY."
Passion, unreasonable, mad, even
capricious, was kindled in his breast
for the first time. He felt an impulse
to take the graceful head between his
hands, and cover brow, cheek and
mouth with rapid kisses, as lie would
have gathered one of the flowers
blooming near her, and crushed the
fragrance out of it against his lips.
j Separation of a day had but deepened
the longing to return, and lent wings
to his feet. He had cheated himself
with the delusion that he had for-
gotten her. Hitherto sufficiently
bold in the wooing and flattering of
the owners of pretty faces, the sailor
was shy, almost embarrassed, in the
presence of Dolores. This fresh fruit
of maidenhood, still protected by the
sheath of unconsciousness and purity,
intimidated him. The abseuco of the
old man did not encourage him to once
more venture to touch her hand.
Then he communicated the true aim
of his coming. At first speech was
difficult to him, ami his words were
stammered, half completed, until, en-
couraged by the subtle sympathy of
his listener, he waxed so eloquent
that Florio grew weary of worrying
his boot and decided to take another i
nap.
On the following evening his cousin,
Mrs. Griffith, was to receive the Rus-
sian grand duke now on board the
corvette Ladislas in the harbor. The
lady wished to greet her guest with a
series of characteristic tableaux. Do-
lores must consent to take a part in
the entertainment
The girl listened in passive silence.
Her rich color faded to a warm, golden
pallor, the corners of her lips drooped;
the delicate arch of black eyebrows
met above the bridge of thin nose
with the flexible nostril. She did not
question the means whereby Mrs Grif-
fith had become aware of her capacity
to serve on the occasion. Possibly she
divined that some suggestion made by
Lieutenant Curzon had resulted in the
invitation. Why did she not betray
more joy in the opportunity of diver-
sion? The messenger was piqued,
puzzled, even tantalized, by the ap-
pearance of willful indifference in her
bearing.
"You understand the role assigned
you, do you not?" he demanded, with
tender insistence.
"I understand perfectly well," she
rejoined, musingly. "Grandpapa may
not consent, though."
"He must consent. We will tell
him there is question of receiving a
Russian grand duke."
"Should I be required to recite a
verse? I have done that several times
at the convent," said Dolores, with
childish triumph.
He suppressed a smile.
"Not on this occasion, Dolores. May
I call you Dolores?"
She gave neither consent nor re-
fusal; a dimple deepened near the cor-
ner of her mouth.
"I will bring all the things in the
morning, I mean your stage wardrobe,
and then we will have a full dress re-
hearsal here in the garden," said the
young man, blithely. "Grandpapa
shall decide if you are a true Phoeni-
cian maiden."
"I must be ugly and yellow, like the
figures on the bits of stone and pot-
tery," demurred Dolores, ruefully.
"As if you could be other than love-
ly, Dolores," he said, bending over
her. "Afterward there is to be a ball.
An expression of sudden delight
transfigured her face. She threw back
her head, and opened her eyes. Togo
to a ball and dance! What felicity of
happiness! She clapped her hands to-
gether, with an irrepressible transport
of delight, and sprang to her feet with
an elasticity of movement which sent
a tingling vibration of sympathy
through the veins of her companion.
"I will come if grandpapa only con-
sents," she exclaimed.
"Give me the very first waltz," in-
sisted Arthur Curzon, with a soft
meaning in his tone.
The maiden accustomed to ball room
gallantry might have blushed mod-
estly, lowered her glance and toyed
with her bracelet before yielding con-
sent.
Young Dolores stooped to recover
her scissors, and retorted frankly—
"Oh, yes!"
Then she added, naively:
"I thank you for remembering me.
Jacob Dealtry approached from the
house and returned the greeting of the
officer without warmth, and yet with-
out any manifestation of surprise at
his second visit.
Dolores flew to his side, clasped her
handfe on his arm, and explained the
invitation of Mrs. Griffith's to the tab-
leaux and ball.
The old man listened without com-
ment, while his countenance betrayed
bewilderment and suspicion.
"Did you come to see my Moorish
coin?" lie questioned abruptly of Lieut.
Curzon, when his grandchild had fin-
ished.
"Yes," said the young man, with
hypocritical alacrity. "I think of go-
ing in for that sort of thing, Mr. Deal-
try, during my stay at Malta, and
making a collection, g
"Very good," muttered the grand
father, producing the Moorish coin for
his inspection,
Wounded pride made Dolores flash a
reproachful glance at the officer, while
her short upper lip curled scornfully.
"I would not buy a privilege," she
said in a smothered tone, as the old
man shuffled away in search of other
relics, tempted by the yielding mood
of the amateur collector.
"I would buy some privileges," he
retorted, laughing.
She shook her head and approached
him near. Her shoulder touched his
arm.
"Why are old people so greody for
gold?" she inquired, seriously.
"They have learned the value of all
earthly things, my child," said Arthur
Curzon, with mature gravity.
"Will you become so horribly greedy
when you are old?" pondered Dolores.
"Even more so," he said promptly.
"I do not believe it," she said, gaz-
ing up into his face intently.
Again the sailor drank deeply of the
soul in the eyes of the girl.
When Jacob Dealtry had yielded a
half abstracted consent, the messenger
of Mrs. Griffith departed.
Dolores ran to her own chamber,
climbed on a chair and lifted down a
green box, studded with brass nails,
from a high shelf.
She raised the lid of the receptacle
and drew forth a mantilla of black
lace, a shell comb, a fan and a tiny
pair of black satin slippers. A faint
perfume of sandalwood and orange
flowers emanated from these treas-
ures, which had belonged to her Span-
ish mother.
Was the faded green box destined to
play the part of Pandora's casket, and
scatter abroad, with the contents,
the fairy shoes and the fan, confusion
and trouble?
Then she put on the pink dress, and
pausing before a small* looking glass,
audaciously severed the sleeves above
the rounded elbows, and cut down the
corsage.
She thus prepared the new robe for
a most unexpected debut.
Attired to her satisfaction, Dolores
sought the corridor, and paused before
the portrait She made a little genu-
flexion, and held up a finger mock-
iugly.
"Perhaps he is the Knight of Malta
after all," she said aloud.
The cavalier of the picture was
mute, somber, threatening, in the ob-
scurity of the old Watch Tower.
CHAPTER VII.
THE SWALLOW WALTZ.
HE OLD VALAZ
zo of the Strada
Zecca, occupied by
Gen. Griffith and
his family, was
brilliantly lighted
on the ensuing
evening.
A massive lan-
tern above the entrance shed a ray on
the scutcheon of the Order of the
Knights of St. John; while within the
vestibule, trophies of the cavaliers,
helmet, pike, halbert, and sword, were
still grouped on the walls.
The visitor who passed under the
arch of the portal on this occasion,
found himself in an atmosphere re-
dolent of the sweetness of flowers, and
surrounded by those elements of life
in which European and Oriental in-
fluences were curiously blended. The
colonnades of the mansion were illu-
minated with pendent clusters of
eastern lamps, alternating with
the cool and fragrant shadow
of clumps of palms and jessa-
mine, and the rippling plash
of a fountain was audible in the cen-
ter of the adjacent court, while Turk-
ish rugs and cushions, exhaling musk
and amber from their folds, were
placed in convenient embrasures be-
tween the columns, as if inviting to
that tranquil repose suggestive of the
inseparable accompaniment of a pipe
of perfumed tobacco, a gilded tray of
sweetmeats, coffee, or sherbet, served
on bent knee by one of those Nubian
slaves in jeweled turban and silken
tunic still to be found, in mute
effigy, in Venetian places. Surely
a beauty of the harem, in em-
broidered vestments, would peep
from the shelter of yonder screen of
lattice of arabesque carving, or glide
down the marble steps on the left! In-
stead, the intruder jostled a stiff, En-
glish servant carrying tea, came unex-
pectedly upon a group of officers in bril-
liant uniform lingering at a buffet, or
was surrounded by a bevy of ladies in
toilettes bearing the imprint of Parifl
and London make.
The hostess received her royal guest
at the entrance of the first sala,
a gracious presence in a robe oi
cream-colored moire antique ovei
pistachio green satin, with fair armi
and shoulders revealed by a corsage
of golden tracery, studded with opals.
The young prince, pale, slender and
beardless, with heavy-lidded eyes, and
a languid utterance, was a modern
Telemachus, escorted by Mentor in
the person of Gen. Lubomirsky, with
a bristling, white mustache, a la
militaire, and several orders attached
to the breast of his uniform.
As such Mrs. Griffith wished to wel-
come the grand duke.
Telemachus was conducted by his
host through several rooms, where
myriads of lights were reflected on
mirrors, and a profusion of flowers,
arranged in banks and masses, with a
background of tree ferns and tall
plants, with variegated leaves, formed
a miniature garden, to a gilded arm
chair placed in the center of a large
and lofty apartment. The prince,
seated here, and surrounded by an
expectant company, was required to
contemplate a dark curtain, draped
with Russian and British flags, until
such time as the drapery was drawn
aside, revealing a tiny stage.
The scene, arranged with admirable
artistic effect, represented a margin
of shore and rocks, with tropical vege-
tation. In the background was visi-
ble the entrance of a grotto, half con-
cealed by a drooping vine.
The hostess, personating Calypso,
in a classical mantle and robe of ivory-
white tints, with a soft crepe peplura,
embroidered in a Greek pattern, and
her abundant dark hair gathered in a
knot at the back of the head, pushed
aside the vine, emerging from the
grotto, and extending her hand with a
smile to the grand duke, said in a
musical voice:
"Telemaque, venez dans ma de
nieure ou, je vous recevrai comme,
mon Ills.''
"Malta was tho island of Calypso,"
said the prince, when the curtain had
fallen.
"Yes. Let us respect all myths at
such a moment," added Gen. Lubo-
mirsky.
When the mimic stage again be-
came visible, three pictures, divided
by a seemingly massive frame, ocou*
pied the space.
TO BE CONTINUED, J
u
if1 VIRGINIA W.JOHNSON.
;r '(Jcopyright i892 Py Rand.m'nally * co.
—we """
resisting victim, the amateur collector.
Mrs. Griffith had received this fresh
recruit to her dramatic staff with affa-
bility, but in the cold, blue eyes of
NGERNATiONAL PRE6S ASS'N
5>c
Miss Ethel Symthe swift disapproval
was perceptible.
Capt. Blake, toiling in the cause like
a galley slave, to Uae his own term, as
stage manager, scene painter and
actor in one, remarked, audibly:
"What a pretty girl! Really, the
sailor has an eye for beauty."
Miss Symthe bit her lip in silence.
"Are we quits, my lady?" mused the
social wasp, resuming his brush with
renewed ardor, in the interests of de-
picting the lighthouse aud the blue
sea on the final scene.
The clever pencil of the young lady
just out from London had designed
the decorations for each tableau, with
the assistance of Capt. Blake, and her
skillful proficiency was apparent in all
the minor details of grouping and cos-
tume. She had demurred at the new-
comer's fitness to fill the role of the
Phoenician.
"Darken her eyebrows," suggested
Lieut. Curzon.
The ladies made no further
objection. The hostess may have
reviewed the situation, with
keen, feminine insight, aud discerned
an unexpected checkmate on the inter-
course of friend and cousin so oppor-
tunely brought together beneath her
roof.
During the first quadrille Dolores
had nimbly divested her rounded
limbs of the purple, Tyrian draperies
of the stage, and slipped on the pretty
pink dress. No necklace of pearls had
she, but she tied a ribbon around her
throat, terminating in a coquettish lit-
tle bow under the left ear. The class-
ical sandal was cast from her foot in
favor of the black satin slippers of her
mother, the true shoe of a Spanish
senorita.
She was not shy with the timidity of
northern races under similar circum-
stances. She emerged from a dress-
ing* room, holding Florio tightly in her
arms. She must find her grandfather,
who waited in one of the colonnades,
and consign the pet to his keeping.
Her whole nature basked in the light,
perfume and warmth of the place and
the hour. She paused before a large
Chinese vase and rifled it of several
roses of the color of her gown, placing
one in her hair and the rest in her cor-
sage. She resembled the fairy princess
of the enchanted palace. All belonged
to her in this realm of delight, and she
must not be surprised at any marvel.
Strains of music floated through the
chamber to her keenly expectant ear,
mingled with a rather awe-inspiring
murmur of voices as of many people
gathered together. Where were all
these people? The glitter of gilt, tho
flowing folds of embroidered hang-
ings aud the long vista of lamps, mul-
tiplied by the shimmer of mirrors,
charmed her eye. Surely the marvel-
ous [story of the milkiu^id, who
dressed in tlje follow of a trSe to at-
tend a county ball, was no more sur-
prising than that she, Dolores of the
Watch Tower, should be here in the
palace of the Knights of Malta.
Entering a deserted apartment, she
paused, involuntarily, to survey her
reflected image in one of those glitter-
ing looking-glasses.
Another girl, who had previously
been pacing the floor with marked
impatience, approached and stood be-
side her, giving a touch of readjust-
ment to her own coiffure, and hum-
ming a song meanwhile.
"Is this your first ball?" she inquired
in Italian, scanning Dolores.
"Yes," said the latter,turning to the
stranger with a surprise which merged
into native admiration as she contem-
plated her.
Dolores had not yet entered the por-
tals of the ball-room, and thought she
had never dreamed of any one as
beautiful as her companion at the pres-
ent moment.
The stranger was small and slight,
and robed in pale green silk, draped
with an embroidery of crystal held
with trailing* water-lilies, -leaves, and
river grasses. Her blonde hair, slight-
ly dashed with sparkling gold powder,
was caught up with stars of brilliants.
A pair of large eyes, full of vivacity,
animated her oval face, which was
piquant in expression. White gloves
of exquisite fineness covered her tiny
hands and arms,reaching to the shoul-
der. She held a roll of music. Her
manner was petulant, abrupt, whim-
sical, yet assured. She read plainly
such flattery of appreciation in the
gaze of simple Dolores that her irrita-
tion of the previous moment, at being
apparently overlooked and forgotten,
vanished.
"I have been invited to sing* to
the Grand Duke," continued the
other, lapsing into English, and
speaking in a tone of blended
egotism and familiarity. "I suppose I
CHAPTER VII.—(Continued.)
On the left stood the Phoenician, as
the first colonist. She was a girl
robed in royal purple, girdled with a
gold zoue, and holding in her fingers
a lotos flower. A temple, dedicated to
Astarte, was behind her, while at her
feet were scattered rude instruments
of astronomy and navigation, linen-
weaving, and the fusion of metals.
Diana occupied the central arch, as
representing Greece in the shadow of
the Parthenon. Clad in a white robe,
with the silver crescent attached to
her dimpled shoulders, the goddess
had an aspect of cold and severe beauty.
She gathered aside the veil, which
formed a diadem on her head. A
torch, reversed, depended from her
arm.
On the right appeared the Roman,
more mature in beauty than her com-
panions, and in richly wrought gar-
ments and sandals. She held a statuette
of Mercury, emblematic of commerce,
and the wolf on a column, as well as
the ruins of the Forum, indicated her
origin.
The rich coloring of the Phoenician
and the Roman formed a characteristic
contrast with the fail symmetry of
feature of Diana.
A murmur of admiration and ap-
plause greeted this charming group,
necessitating a second lifting of the
curtain.
A trilling incident marred the repe-
tition. A tiny dog, resembling a ball
of white, floss silk, rushed on the
stage, peered at the audience, growled
and began to bark vociferously.
Phoenicia forgot her pose, caught up
the animal, kissed him on the nose,
and thrust him under one arm.
"Florio followed us," she explained,
in audible tones, to the hostess. "He
would not stay at home alone. I am
sorry. Evil little beast! How dare
you bark? Eh!"
"The picture is now complete," said
Gen. Lubomirsky, smiling. "Did not
the Sybarites carry these dogs to the
baths, held under the arm, and even
honor them with monuments and
epitaphs after death?"
"Who is the Phienician?" inquired
the young prince of his host, after a
pause.
Gen. Griffith was at fault. He had
never seen her before, and did not
know her name. He fancied she was
aonie native, Maltese girl used for the
occasion.
On the stage the Grand Master Vil-
liers de l'lsle d'Adam, in the person of
Capt. Fillingham, wearing pasteboard
irmor in lieu of wrought steel, indi-
cated the scene of fortifications begun
in defense of his chosen island home.
The Knight La Vallette next ap-
peared. Clad in mail, he unfurled the
banner of the order of St John and
trampled beneath his heel the Ma-
hometan crescent
Then Lieut Curzon, in uniform and
grasping the national standard, was
disclosed by the raised curtain. The
young officer stood on the margin of
blue sea, with a lighthouse depicted
on the shore and a man-of-war in the
distance, embodying later British su-
premacy of rule, and brought the tab-
leaux to a fitting close.
The draperies were once more swept
aside and Calypso, surrounded by the
Phoenician, the Greek and the Roman,
flanked by the two knights of Malta
and the British sailor, again tendered
a welcome to the august guest.
The ball that ensued was opened by
the grand duke and the hostess. At
the conclusion of the quadrille he said
slowly:
"I have to ask of the Goddess Calyp-
so the further pleasure of the next
quadrille with the youngest and most
beautiful of her nymphs, the Phoeni-
cian, for a partner."
The Phoenician? Heavens! Wrho
was girl picked up by
Arthur Curzon somewhere about
the island? Mrs. Griffith did onot
know what had become of this Cinder-
ella, and yet the young prince had ex-
pressed a wish to dance with her. The
hostess bowed assent without betray-
ing either surprise or annoyance at the
unforeseen request
As for Dolores, swept from the se-
clusion of the little garden by the
energetic will of Lieut. Curzon, she
found herself launched amid the
most unfamiliar elements of life.
The young officer had returned to
the Watch Tower in the morning, true am to stay out here, like a servant,
to his promise, with tho stage ward- 1 until I am summoned. I have heard
robe requisite for the girl, purchased of such things before in London houses
by himself in the town, with much | during the season, but I do not intend
secrecy. Oh sweetness of the morning to put up with it in my day. Just
hour, stolen from all the world, in the wait until 1 am fairly launched!
seclusion of the neglected garden, I Nous*verrons, cherie! The Maestro at
where Dolores became transformed i Milan says that my voice possesses the
into the Phoenician maiden, with Jacob same flexibility as Patti's, and more
Dealtry and the perturbed little dog quality than Neilson's register. I
Florio for audience! How many con- have half a mind to put one of my dia-
fidences were exchanged among the ; mond stars in your black hair, but no!
flowers, with the pigeons circling near, i the rosebud is even more becoming,
aud in the shade of the orange tree, You are the prettiest creature I ever
while tlie grandfather sought yet saw in my life. Do you understand
another specimen to impose on his un- English, little one?
"Oh. yes," laughed Dolores. "I am
English, or Maltese My mother was
Spanish, I can dance, perhaps, but I
should be afraid to sing here."
"I am not afraid to sing before all
the Grand Dukes in Christendom." re-
torted the Undine of the water-lilies,
with a little grimance. "I only hope
I may obtain ail engagement at St.
Petersburg soon. I am to make my
debut at the Maltese opera-house,
you know -in the 'Barber of
Seville.' I have taken the name
of Signorina Giulia Melita. I was born
in Chicago, and my real name is Lizzie
Shannon. 1 shall be known as Melita
all over the world. Are you coming
to hear me on Thursday night?"
"Oh, how I wish I could!" sighed
Dolores, clasping her hands together.
"I fear that grandpapa never goes to
the theater."
"There comes Mr. Brown," said the
embryo Diva, quickly.
"Mr. Brown?" repeated Dolores, in-
terrogatively, and much interested in
her new acquaintance.
"You know him, of course. No?-
You must have heard of Mr. Brown.
Why! everybody knows him from
Vienna and Paris to London audi
New York. Mr. Brown is at
present my guardian dragon, and
keeps all small fry at a safe distance.
If I were a race horse of blood, you
might say he had bet on my winning
—invested in me. He is a good soul,
too, and looks after my onion soup as
well as my future engagements."
Mr. Brown approached. He was a
portly man of mature age, with a high-
ly-colored countenance, and jet black
hair and mustache. Ho was attired
in what may be termed effulgent, mas-
culine evening dress, and had the
ponderous grace of manuerof the ring-
master of a circus.
"They are ready to hear you sing,
my dear," he announced, in a paternal
and wheezy voice. "Give that aria
from the Sicilian Vespers with as much
flnish as possible, Melita"
"Are they ready for me?" she re-
torted, with a sarcastic intonation.
"Supposing that I am not ready for
them, Mr. Brown?"
Mr. Brown smiled a fat smile, a
facial wrinkle that rippled over cheek
and jowl as the surface of water is
stirred by a falling pebble, bowed pro-
foundly, and kissed the tips of the
girl's fingers, as if saluting a princess.
"Patience, my angel," he said, in-
dulgently. "We must strive to make
a good impression to-night by our
modesty and grace. Later, we shall
make our own terms. Eli?"
She sighed impatiently, aud shook
out the train of her dress.
"Come along, then," was her uncer-
emonious assent I hate being patron-
ized, though."
She moved away a few paces, re-
membered Dolores, ran back, and kissed
her suddenly. "You must come to
my debut," she said. "Ask for Mr.
Brown at the stage door. Bring
your grandpa, too. And—your gloves
are shabby, child," halting, with con-
viction.
"I know it," confessed Dolores, rue-
fully. "They are old ones that I
found in a box. I tried to clean them
with bread-crumbs, and I thought,
perhaps, they would not show much."
"I have some nice gloves," affirmed
the Signorina Giulia Melita, shaking
her head as she scrutinized those of
Dolores. "Mr. Brown always carries
a lot in his pocket in case I should
change my niind abou} a pajj. Your
gloves hiTve a great deal to do witl?
j'our temper. You are a Spaniard and
I am an American, so our hands are
small. Give me the package, quick,
Mr. Brown. These pink ones will suit
you, child. I wish I could stop to help
you button them, but I may see you
again, later. Don't forget the night
of my debut, and to come to the stage
door. She may bring me good luok,
Mr. Brown. Who knows?"
(to be continued.)
lie Identified the Corp**.
The waters of the bay had washed
up a lonir, lank body and for two days
it lay in an undertaker's shop awaiting
identification. Nobody on Cape Cod
kuew the man. At last an old rickety
wagon rattled up and Farmer Hall got
down. Passing into the back room he
looked at the body for a moment and
said: "That's hiiu."
The undertaker asked for further
information, but Farmer Hall could
only say it was Tompkins, his hired
man
"But can't you tell just why he is
Tompkins? Are they his clothes?
Can't you furnish some positive means
of identification?" And tho under-
taker looked expectant
Farmer Hall shifted his place and
was lost in thought Suddenly he
slapped his leg.
'•Well?"
"He stuttered."—Boston Budget
Where He Saw It.
Mr. Hayseed—Marier, I've made up
my mind ter send our boy to the city
writing school to learn how to write.
Mrs. Hayseed—He writes a good
hand.
"Yes, Marier, but he's too slow for
these times. The city's the place to
learn things, Marier, no matter what.
They write like greased lightnin'
there. Why, Marier, while I was in
the city I saw a man write a two-page
love letter in seventeen seconds, by
the watch. He was a regular city
feller, too—I could tell by his clothes.
Why, Marier, when the girl that letter
was writ to got it, it took her 'most
five minutes to read it I timed her,
too."
"Love letter—girl reading it! Why,
where and how ou 'artli did you see a
letter written, and then "
"Oh, it's ail so, Marier. I saw it in
a theater."
Every farrowing sow should have a
shelter to herself and be put in in
time to get acquainted with her sur-
roun dings.
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Edwards, H. L. The Tribune--Democrat. (Enid, Okla. Terr.), Vol. 2, No. 39, Ed. 1 Saturday, June 15, 1895, newspaper, June 15, 1895; Enid, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc156999/m1/3/?q=%22%22~1&rotate=90: accessed July 17, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.