The May Bugle. (May, Okla.), Vol. 10, No. 22, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 13, 1914 Page: 2 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: The Buffalo/May Bugle and was provided to The Gateway to Oklahoma History by the Oklahoma Historical Society.
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THE MAY RITfJT.E MAY nkr ahhma
k
I
m
foyfcVALIANTi ‘/VIRGINIA
S' HALLE ERMINIE DIVES
1LLUSTPATION3 6y LAUREN STOUT
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copy/p/cs/r ay aoaao -y/f/r/e/t x. co/r/vtyy
J
8YNOP8I8.
John Valiant, a rich sorlrtr
suddenly discovers that the Valiant cor
favorite,
poratJon. which hla father founded and
which waa the principal source of his
wealth, had failed He voluntarily turna
over hla private fortune to the receiver
for the corporation Ilia entire remaining
white bull do*
a*o! The calendar on my desk has a | of anguish. Yet ehe herself could not
motto for each leaf. Today's Is this: : marry him. The barrier was lmpas
Every man carries his fate on a rib- I sable!
and about hi. neck.' Last night I 8he was still lying listlessly among
would have smiled at that, perhaps; | the cushions when a step sounded on
t“ ‘f, "®y ° “y,helf' II" tr“e U s the porch and she heard Chilly Lusk's
true. Two little hours ago I could voice in the hall. With heavy hands
and Darnory court, a nr* ,av'* **orn that whatever happened Shirley put into place her disheveled
poftaesflionfl < onsiat of hi old motor car,
of
looted In Virginia
"All right,” he said hoarsely. "It—
It doesn't matter. Don’t worry.”
She stretched out her hand to him
In a gesture of wistful pain, and he
held It a moment between both of
his, then released it and went hur-
riedly out.
-............. On tha way to
Damcry court he meet* Shirley D*nd-
ridge, an auburn-haired beauty and de-
cide! that he ta going to like Virginia Im-
meneely Shirley’* mother. Mr* I
ridge, and Major Bristow exchange rem-
iniscences during which It la revealed
that the major. Valiant's father, and n
man named Sassoon were rivals for the
hand of Mrs. I>andrtdge In her youth.
Bassoon and Valiant fought a duel on her
account In which the former whs killed
Valiant finds Darnory court overgrown
with woods and creepers and decides to
rehabilitate the place. Valiant saves
Bhlrley from the bite of a snake, which
bites him. Knowing the d»*ad|ln»'*s of the
bite. Bhlrley sucks the poison from the
wound and saves his life Valiant learns
for the first time that his father left V1r
£2z> HH'HH — - SSS z
situation. With a wave of deeper
BETRAYED BY HIS BREATHING
Liar Can Be Detected by Teats De-
vised by Professor SenuMl
of Graz.
upon me. But though we met on the | ’ ohare«,tir|e<! °U!'
Held, I kept my promise. Sassoon did , * ?‘Btlaimfd the weariness that
not fall by my hand " dragged upon her spirits like leaden
-She had begun to tremble so that j ^h‘“^
the paper shook In her hands, and | cord,alltr' She
from her breast, shattered by her
at his coming.
was, in fact,
At Darnory
Quick breathing, 'the brown I'rfn! "f' *1\n f“
ha 1*1. dilated down In her lap. It ... ,he “rd,!" »•»
some moments before she could calrt
When you are telling a lie you
breathe differently from when you are
telling the truth. The difference was
discovered by means of some tests
made upon his students by Professor
Benuesl of Graz.
He prepared cards bearing letters,
figures and diagrams and distributed
these among his pupils. These were
required to describe the cards correct-
ly, except In certain cases when the
cards were marked with a red star
and the students receiving them were
required to describe them faleely.
Each student was watched carefully
by his fellows, who, ignorant of the
nature of the card, tried to Judge from,
his manner whether he was telling the
truth or not. The watchers were un-
able to judge with any certainty.
HENRY" HOWLAND
But before each man began hla test
hopelessness than had yet submerged the tlme 0CCUPled in Inspiration and
gfnfa on arcount of h duel In whb'h Doc
tc
tor Southall and Major Brlntow acf#»d aa
hJh father’* *eoond*. Valiant and Sh!rb*v
become good fri.*r 1h lira I>ind ridge
faints when sho meet* Valiant for tin*
first time Valiant discovers that he ha*
a fortune In old walnut tr**e* The yearlv
tournament, a survl/al of the jounring of
feudal time* l* held at Darnory court. At
the last moment Valiant take* the place
of one of the knights, who I* sick, and
enter* the list*. He wins and chooses
Bhlrley Dandrldge hs queen of beauty to
tiie dlamav of Katherine Fargo, a former
sweetheart, who I* visiting In Virginia
The tournament ball at Darnory court
draw* the elite of the countryside. Shir-
ley Is crowned by Valiant a* que»*n of
beauty. Valiant tell* Bhlrley of his love
and they become engaged Katherine
Farf » determining n »t to give up Vali-
ant without a struggle, points out to Shir-
ley how terrible It would he for the wom-
an w'ho caused the duel to meet Valiant,
who looks so much like hls-father. Bhlr-
ley. uncertain, but feeling that her moth-
er was In love with the victim of Vali-
ant's pistol, breaks the engagement Major
Bristow is fatally wounded by Oreef
King, a liberated convict, who he had sent
to prison, but before dvlng Bristow con-
fess"* to Mrs Dandrldge that he had
kept a letter Valiant had written to her
after the duel. Valiant decides to leave
Darnory court end writes Shirley that hs
will love her always
petals dunted down in her iap It was .Vy.:. Ult? garden wicn ner
some moments before Z.tJ ZT ipa thr',ln? froin Valla"Ls “iss.
had suddenly met his look. It had
seemed to hold a startled realization
that she had remembered with a re-
CHAPTER XXXIII.—Continued.
With unsteady fingers she un-
wrapped the oiled-silk, broke the let-
ter's seal, and read;
“Dearest:
"Before you read this, you will no
doubt have heard the thing that has
happened this sunshiny morning. Sas-
soon—poor Sassoon! I can say that
with all my heart—is dead. What this
fact will mean to you, God help me!
1 cannot guess. For I have never
been certain, Judith, of your heart.
Sometimes I have thought you loved
me—mo only—as I love you. Last
night when I saw you wearing my
cape Jessamines at the ball, I was
almost sure of it. But when you made
jne promise, whatever happened, not
<to lift my hand against him, then I
-doubted. Was It because you feared
tor him ? Would to God at this moment
I knew this was not true! For what-
ever the fact, 1 must love you, dar-
ling, you and no other, us long as I
live!”
When she had read thus far, she
-closed the letter, and pressing a hund
■against her heart as If to still Its
ybrobblng. locked the written pages
In a drawer of her bureau She went
downstairs and made Ranston bring
her chair to its accustomed place un-
der the rose-arbor, and sat there
through the falling twilight.
She and Shirley tulked but little at
dinner, and what she said seemed to
come winging from old memories—her
own girlhood, its routes and picnics
and harum-scarum pleasures. And
there were long gaps In which she
sat silent, playing with her napkin,
the light color coming and going In
her delicate cheek, lost In revery. It
was not till the hall-clock struck her
usual hour that she rose to go to her
room.
“Don't send Eniraaline.” she said.
"I shan’t want her." She kissed Shir-
ley good night. "Maybe after a while
you will sing for me; you haven't
played your harp for ever so long."
In the subdued candlelight Mrs
Dandrldge locked the door of her
room She opened a closet, and from
the very bottom of a small haircloth
trunk, lifted and shook out from Its
many tissue wrappings a faded gown
of rose-colored silk, with pointed bod
I
herself sufficiently to read on
"He fired at the signal and the shot
went wide. 1 threw my pistol on the
ground. Then—whether maddened by
my refusal to fire, I cannot tell—he
turned his weapon all at once and shot
himself through the breast. It was
over in an Instant. The seconds did
not guess—do not even now, for It
happened but an hour ago. As the
code decrees, their backs were turned
when the shots were fired. But there
were circumstances I cannot touch
upon to you which made them disap-
prove—which made my facing him
Just then seem unchivalrous. 1 saw
it In Bristow's face, and liked him the
better for it, even while it touched
my pride. They could not know, of
course, that I did not intend to fire.
Well, you and they will know It now!
And Brietow has my pistol; he will
find it undischarged — thank God,
thank God!
But will that matter to you? If
you loved Sassoon, I shall always in
your mind stand as the Indirect cause
of bis death! It is for this reason 1
am going away—I could not bear to
look in your accusing eyes and hear
you say It. Nor could 1 bear to stay
here, a reminder to you of such a
horror. If you love me, you will write
and call me back to you. Oh. Ju-
dith, Judith, my own dear lovel
pray God you will!”
She put the letter down and laid
her face upon it. "Beauty! Beauty!
she whispered, dry-eyed. “I never
knew! I never knew! But It would
have made no difference, darling. I
would have forgiven you anything—
everything! You know that, now,
dear! You have been certain of It all
these years that have been bo empty,
empty to me!”
But when the faded rose-colored
gown and the poor time-yellowed slip-
pers had been laid back iu the hair-
cloth trunk; when, her door once more
unbolted, she lay In her bed in the dim
glow of the reading-lamp, with her
curling silvery hair drifting across the
pillow and the letter beneath It, at
last the tears came coursing down her
cheeks.
And with the loosening of her tears,
gradually and softly came joy—infi-
nitely deeper than the anguish and
sense of betrayal. It poured upon her
like a trembling flood. Long, long ago
he had gone out of the world—It was
only his memory that counted to her.
Now that could no longer spell pain
or emptiness or denial. It was engold-
ened by a new light, and in that light
she would walk gently and smilingly
to the end.
She found the slender golden chain
that hung about her neck and opened
the little black locket with Its circlet
of laureled pearls. And as she gazed at
the face It held, which time had not
touched with change, the sound of
Shirley's harp came softly In through
the window. She was playing an old- j
fashioned song, of the sort ehe knew
her mother loved best:
morseful compunction. Since that
night he had not been at Rosewood.
Ranston had lighted a pine-knot In
the fireplace, and the walls were shud-
dering with crimson shadows. Her
hand was shielding her eyes, and as
she strove to fill the gaps In their
somewhat spasmodic conversation
with the trivial impersonal things that
belonged to their old intimacy, the
tiny flickering flames seemed to be
darting unfriendly fingers plucking at
her secret. Leaning from her nest of
cushions she thrust the poker Into
the glowing resinous mass till sparks
whizzed up the chimney s black maw
in a torrent.
"How they fly!” she said. “Rickey
Snyder callsj it raising a blizzard
Hades. I used to think they flew up
to the sky and became the llttlest
stars. What a pity we have to grow
up and learn so much! I’d rather
have kept on believing that when the
red leaves In the woods whirled about
in a circle the fairies were dancing,
and that it was the gnomes who put
the cockle-burs in the hounds’ ears.
She had been talking at random
gradually becoming shrinkingly con-
scious of his constrained and stum
bling manner. She had, however, but
half defined his errand when he came
to It all in a burst.
"I—I can’t get to it, somehow, Shir-
ley," he said with sudden desperation,
‘ but here It Is. I've come to ask you
to marry mp. Don’t stop me,” he
went on hutriedly, lifting hfs hand:
"whatever you say, 1 must'tell you
I've been trying to for months and
months!" Now that he had started,
it caine with a boyish vehemence that
both chilled and thrilled her. Even
in her own desolation, and shrinking
almost unbearably from the avowal
the hope and brightness In his voice
touched her with ptty. It seemed to
her that life was a strange jumble of
unescapable and Incomprehensible
pain. And all the while, In the young
voice vibrant with feeling, her cring-
ing ear was catching imagined echoes
of that other voice, graver and more
self-contained, but shaken by the same
passion, in that Iteration of 'I love
you! I love you!”
His answer came to him finally in
her silence, and he released her hands
which he had caught in his own. They
dropped, limp and unresponsive, in
her lap. ‘‘Shlrlpy,’’ he said brokenly,
maybe Vou can't care for me—yet.
But If you will marry me, I—I’ll be
content with so little, till—you do.”
She shook her head, her hair mak-
ing dim flashes in the firelight. "No,
Chilly," 6he said. “It makes me
her. she realized that, against her own
decision, something deep within her
had taken shy and secret comfort In
his stubborn masculine refusal
Against ail fact, In face of the impos-
sible, her heart had been clinging to
this—a« though his love might even
attain the miraculous and somewhere,
somehow, recreate circumstance. But
now he, too, had bowed to the decree.
A kind of utter apathetic wretched-
ness seized upon her, to replace the
sharp misery that had so long been
her companion—an empty numbness
in which, in a measure, she ceased to
feel.
An hour dragged slowly by and at
length she rose and went slowly up
the etaiis. Her head felt curiously
heavy, but It did not ache. * Outside
her mother’s door, as was her custom,
she paused mechanically to listen. A
tiny pencil of light struck through the
darkness and painted a spot of bright-
ness on her gown. It came through
the keyhole; the lamp In her mother’s
room was burning. "She has fallen
asleep and forgotten it,” she thought,
and softly turning the knob, pushed
the door noiselessly open and entered.
A moment she stood listening to the
low regular breathing of the sleeper.
The reading-lamp shed a shaded glow
on the pillow with Its spread-out sil-
ver hair, and on the delicate hands
clasped loosely on the coverlet. Shir-
ley came close and looked down on
the placid face. It was smooth as a
child's and a smile touched It lightly
as if some pleasant sleep-thought had
just laid rosy fingers on the dreaming
lips. The light caught and sparkled
from something bright that lay be-
tween her mother's hands. It was the
enamel brooch that held her own baby
curl, and she saw suddenly that what
she had all her life thought was
solid pendant, was now open locket-
wise and that the two halves clasped
a miniature. It came to her at once
that the picture must be Sassoon's,
and a quick thrill of pity and yearn-
ing welled up through her own dejec-
tion. Stooping, she looked ».t It close-
ly. She started as she did so, for the
face on the little disk of ivory was
that of John Valiant.
An instant she stared unbelievingly.
Then recollection of the resemblance
of which Valiant had told her rushed
to her, and she realized that It must
be the picture of his father. The fact
shocked and confounded her. Why
should her mother carry in secret the
miniature of the man who had
killed—
(TO BR CONTINUED.)
expiration was measured, and the
measurement was taken again imme-
diately after he finished. It was found
that the utterance f r„ false statement
always Increased and the utterance of
a true statement always diminished,
the quotient obtained by dividing the
time of inspiration by the time of ex-
piration.
Dr. Anton Rose, commenting In Die
UmBchau on these results, remarks
that the discovery furnishes a certain
criterion between truth and falsehood.
For even a clever liar Is likely to fail
In an attempt to escape detection by
breathing irregularly, Professor Be-
nussi having discovered that men are
unable voluntarily to change their res-
piration so as -to affect the result
Paid for Her Mourners.
The little town of Isle-sur-Segne
saw a very popular funeral recently,
when the remains of an old maid,
scarcely known except to her Imme-
diate neighbors, were escorted to the
cemetery by nearly a thousand
mourners.
The story had gone abroad that the
old lady left instructions in her will
to distribute a small sum to each per-
son who should see her burled, at
the gates of the cemetery after the
ceremony. For this purpose she had
collected 100 five-penny pieces, and
also set apart £4 for .the funeral
music accompanying her hearse.
Those stipulations were scrupulous-
ly carried out, and after being played
Into the cemetery with all the famous
dead marches, the mourners Indulged
In such a contest for the small coins
at the gate that a strong force of po-
lice, gathered in anticipation, had to
interfere to restore order.—Loudon
Standard.
He is dreaming: let him dream!
He supposes that the sun
With a lesser w-armth would gleam
If today his work were done—
If today his voice were stilled
And in death's embrace he lay,
If his mission were fulfilled
And his hands were lifeless clay.
He supposes that all men
Must have knowledge of his worth;
'Twill be hard, he fancies, when
He is gone to run the earth;
Wheels will cease to turn, he thinks.
And the flags will wave no more
When within the grave he sinks
And his usefulness is o'er.
Darling. I am growing old.
Silver threads among the gold
Shine upon my brow today;
Life Is fading fust away.
But, my darling, you will be
Always young and fair to me.
Outside the leaves rustled, the birds
Ice and old fashioned puffeleeves. She | called and the crickets sang their un-
epread this on the bed and laid with It | ending epithalamla of summer nights
« pair of yellowed satin slippers and , and on this tone-background the mel-
a little stra\v basket that held a spray j ody rose tenderly and lingeringly like
of what had once been cape Jessa- a haunting perfume of pressed flowers.
W1
mine.
Sho smiled and lifted the locket to her
In the flickering light she undressed face, whispering the word* of the
and rearranged her hair, catching its j fraln:
silvery curling meshes
M
t,
71
ft
m
Vain Pomp.
Neilson Wlnthrop, at a dinner at hla
Riviera villa in Nice, said of New
York's new rich:
It Is incredible how many servants
these people have tumbling over one
another. Pass their palaces of pale
limestone fronting the park, and you'll
see a lackey at every window and two
at every door.
“They tell a story about a Fifth ave-
nue food king who, blustering Into the
house at four o'clock in the morning,
growled:
‘Hello, where’s all the servants?’
‘If you please, sir,’ the butler an-
swered respectfully, ’when It came
three o'clock I thought you was spend-
in’ the night out, and ventured to send
most of the footmen off to bed, sir.’
‘Humph,’ growled the food king.
Ventured to send 'em off to bed, eta?*
Fine piece of Impudence! Suppose I'd
happened to bring a friend home—
then there’d only have been you seven
to let us in.' ”
Bargain Hunting.
An amusing story is told In connec-
tion with the early days of Sir J. B.
Robinson, the South African million-
aire, who has been figuring promi-
nently In the London law courts.
He was crossing the Vaal river In
1869, looking for diamonds. He asked
the natives If they had seen any
"pretty stones,” and at last he found
a man who had a diamond. It was
a small stone, and the prospector of-
fered him $50 for It, but he refused
to part with it. He Increased his of-
fer to $60, but still the man refused.
“What will you take for It?” he
was asked.
Twenty goats,” was the firm reply;
"nothing less.”
“I sent off to the farm,” says Sir J.
B. Robinson, In telling the story, "and
bought 20 goats for $37.50, and so got
possession of my first diamond.”
Whpn he sleeps within his tomb
And the world, all darkened, grieves.
Not another rose will bloom.
So he foolishly believes.
Why deprive him of his glee,
Howe’er foolish he may seem?
Glory, after all, may be
Merely happy dreams we dream.
Why He Quit
"Yes, I once edited a paper,” said
the ragged man who was tickling the
ends of his fingers on the stubbles that
grew around his chin; “fact is, I hot
only edited it, but was publisher and
business manager."
‘What caused you to quit journal-
ism?"
“You see, I was doing business in a
strong prohibition town. One Sunday
evening the most prominent minister
in the place preached an eloquent ser-
mon, taking for his text, ‘Bear and
Forbear.' I wrote a two-column report
of it, but his text as It got Into the pa-
per was ‘Beer and for Beer.’ ”
Not Expecting Much.
"In case we separate, Mary, how-
much alimony do you think you ought
to have?”
"Alimony? Good gracious, you don’t
suppose you could pay me alimony if
you were alone in the world, do you?
Why, it’s all we can do to make ends
meet on your income, even when you
have me to Inspire and direct you."
NOISY.
Purchasing Electricity.
A fact which speaks eloquently for
the administration of the electrical
power companies of this country Is
that whUe In 1902 electric railways
purchased very little power, ten years
later 33 per cent of all the power used
was purchased. Illinois, In 1912, pur-
chased electricity amounting to 58 per
cent, while in Chicago, during the first
few months of the present year, sur-
face and elevated railways used 90 per
cent of purchased electrlcial energy
This seems to indicate that by special-
izing and producing in large quantities
the electric service companies are ena-
bled to furnish current cheaper than
Industrial establishments can produce
it themselves.
Banks — I like
the part of town
that you live In.
It’s so nice and
quiet out there.
Jordan—Pardon
me; you’re mista-
ken. That has got
to be one of the
noisiest neighborhoods In the city.
Banks—Why, I am surprised. Have
they begun building factories around
you?
Jordan—No. but a newly married
couple have moved in next door to us.
and he has begun letting her buy hla
neckties.
,1-
in a low soft
coll. IxK>king almost furtively about
her, she put on the rose-colored gow n,
and pinned the withered flower-spray
on its breast. She lighted more
candles—in the wall brackets and on
the dressing table—and the reading-
lamp on the desk. Standing before
her mirror then, she gazed long at the
reflection—the poor faded rose-tint
against the pale Ivory of her slender
neck, and the white hair. A little
quiver ran over her Ups.
*” ‘Whatever the fact.’ she whispered.
***••• you and no other as long
as I live ’ “
She unlocked the bureau-drawer
then, took out the letter, and seating
herself by the table, read the remain-
der-
1 write this in the old library and
Bristow holds my horse by the porch.
He will give you this letter when 1
am gone.
Last night we were dancing—el!
of us—at the ball. 1 can scarcely be-
lieve U wee leas than twelve hours
Yes. my derllng. you will be
Always young anj fair to me!
The stnlle was still on her lips when
she fell asleep, and the little locket
still lay in her fingers.
Three Ages of Crime.
“There are three ages of criminals,"
said Lecoq. the detective.
“The first age, from seventeen to
thirty, is the daring and desperate
one. Highway robbery, bludgeoning*
and hold ups. murder for a few dollars
—this is the worst age. a cruel, wicked
and supremely foolish age
“The second age. from thirty to for-
. ty-flve. is the cautious middle one.
op "9’ C * Looked at 1 c,08e,y- Burglaries that are safe and easy for-
She Started She Did So. | gerjr. counterfelting-in a word crime.
I ”
CHAPTER XXXIV.
When the Clock Struck.
wretched to give you pain, but I must
—I must! Love Isn't like that. It
_ doesn't come afterward I know. I
"Sorrow weeps -sorrow sings " As I could never *lve >°u what you want.
Shirley played that night, the old Rus- : Y°U would end b> <l«*8PIslng me. as
lan proverb kept running through her j ,~should despise myself. ”
mind. When she had pushed the gold * * won’t give up." he said lncoher
harp Into Us corner she threw herwelf ®nt,D "1 can t give up. Not so long .
upon broad sofa in a feathery drift a* 1 know there’s nobody else. At the
of chintz cushions and dropped her ba** * thought—1 thought perhaps you
demanding neither violence nor pluck
—that is the second age.
"The third age. from forty five to
seventy, is the executive one. The
criminal is now a gang leader He does
not act himself, but he plans and com-
Chance for a Rat-Catcher.
The slaughter houses and fish and
meat market in the center of the city
of Sheffield, England, are about to be
torn down, and the public recognizes
Are You Needed?
Have you made yourself important? Are
you needed In your place?
You complain that you are slighted; gloom
has settled on your face;
Younger men are passing onward to re-
wards you cannot claim.
And you cry that luck betrays you, but la
luck alone to blame?
Others blessed with little talent have been
that this will result In the migration j But ^ ne*
of millions of rats. The local newspa- J give tt»- best they may^ 104 ,h<?r
pers are demanding that measures be Wou!,l the world care if
taken to destroy these vermin before
they have a chance to find homes else-
where. The American consul at Shef-
field suggests that some American ver-
min-killer might make, a good thing
out of this.
tomorrow you
sat on some distant star”
Have you made yourself Important-are
you needed where you are?
gaunt
My whole
The Life Sentence.
Arthur Hoe of printing press fame
said at a typographer s dinner in New
York;
"The American business man works
too hard. Nothing but accident can
Another Bump for Genius.
“Whatever I do,” said the
amateur poet. “I do with
soul "
“Yes.” his wife replied. " I know
you do. dear, but it would be such a
help if you’d give it up and do thing*
with your hands "
forehead in her laced fingers. A gilt-j car*d for Valiant—but since he told
One Improvement.
mands crimes of magnitude, train rob-
iml give «7 Not 'ZTlong | £l‘!!Lb!nk rubberles’ kid“*P‘®«» and j make him stop wort
“The American business man's life,
| fact, is a sentence wherein illness
..,, w -T ._ alone makes the commas and death
, e ?^ k ? makes the period."
face flushed with the excitement of | _
her afternoon in the kitchen. “I want
you to be perfectly frank with me
now; what would you suggest to Im-
prove those doughnuts I made today?”
Well" replied Mr. Newlywed. fifV
framed mirror hung on the opposite “J*—
wall, out of which her sorrowful brood- j stopped suddenly, for she was
log eyes looked with an expression of looking at him from an aehea face,
dumb and weary suffering. [“He told me there was no reason why
Her conrused thoughts raced hither 1 *houl<1 ■<>» try my luck." he said dif-
and thither. What would be the end? flcu,,,T asked him" ______ _____
W ould Valiant forget after a Ume? There wae a silence, while he gated ! Ing one with a slight effort. “T think
Would he marry—Mtse Fargo, per iat h#r- breathing despair. Then he I it might be better if yoh made the
bapaf The thought caused her a «•-*> I tried to laugh. 1
An Inventor.
is that chap who Just left
Had His Doubts.
“So your daughter Intends to pur-
sue her studies abroad *”
"Yes.” replied the self-made man.
“she pretends she does, but between
me and you I don't believe she stands
] the least show of overtakin’ em."
1 "Who
you?"
"He's an inventor.”
“Of what?”
hols biggwr *
‘ Of reasons why I should lend him
It* dollars and of azcuaoa when I do. ’
The Joke of It
“I suppose being the wife of •
humorist is a continuous Joke." said
, her former schoolmate.
I
“Yes.” she sighed. looking at
laded Jacket, "and it's oa us"
i
\
A
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Farmers' and Business Men's Co-Operative Association. The May Bugle. (May, Okla.), Vol. 10, No. 22, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 13, 1914, newspaper, August 13, 1914; (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc941174/m1/2/?q=%22%22~1: accessed July 17, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.