llc Chatham ftecorb.
H. A. LONDON,
Editor and Poprietor.
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION,
$1.50 Per Year.
strictly en Advance
LITTLE MAKE-BELIEVE
A CHILD - OF
BY B. L.
CHAITER V,'
Continued. . .
'Ab." muttered Dexter. -with a sat
isfactory sigh, "that's all right. But
I wonder what it was!"
He walked slowly onward, some
what uncertain of Ms footsteps there
.was certainly something wrong with
the pavement; it seemed to be loose
when he experienced a repetition of
his dizziness.
This time he sank to the ground, in
consequence of there being nothing
substantial within reach for him to
lay hold of. and a crowd immediately
gathered around him.
Their voices acted like a charm upon
Lini.
He scrambled to his feet, and gazing
at the people in a dazed condition,
pushed through them unceremoniously,
and in the course of half an hour suc
. ceeded in reaching his shop in safety
-while one of the flaunting women in
the crowd he had left behind lum, said
with a laugh:
'It's easy to see what's the matter
with him:'
Dexter's movements, when he was
in his shop, were guided by a kind of
.wise instinct.
The first thing he did was to put
up his shutters and lock his street
door.
The second thing, to place by his
bedside as much bread as he found in
his cupboard, and a jug of water.
The third thing, to make a large pot
of tea.
The fourth thing, to undress himself
and go to bed.
' 1 11 have a good long sleep," said
Dexter, speaking confidentially to him-i
self: "and I shall wake up in the1
morning quite well." '
Then he drank cup of hot tea.
Then he said again:
'I wonder what it was? I don't
think I've eaten anything to disagree
with me. It might be understandable
if it was summer and a hot sun was
blazing on my head. But it's winter,
and a precious dismal winter, too.
There was a frost setting in last night
when that Little Make-Believe was
running away with the pie. Rum idea,
not to eat it herself. Almost as rum
as finding myself here in bed in the
middle of the day, instead of the mid
dle of the night. Shouldn't wonder if
it was a rush of blood yes, that's
what it was, a rush of blood. Oh.
Lord! here's my head going round
again!'' ;
Then he gave his head a great manyl
shakes to bring it to a proper sense of
its duty he was really angry with it.
for its bad behavior but it went round
more than ever.
Then he looked at his father's night
cap, hanging sclidly down from the
rafters, and that was going round, too.
Then he looked at the little nest of
drawers in a comer of the room, and
that was going round, too.
Then he looked at the old armor,
old brasses, old cravings, old lace, old
enamels, old furniture, with which the
room was crammed, and they were
going round, too.
Then ths ceiling went round, then
the floor went round, then his clothes
went round how'funny his muddy old
boots, with his socks stuffed in them,
looked, as they waltzed gravely in and
out the goods.
A peculiarity of these proceedings"
was that, although every article in the
small room was actually within Jris;
reach, they all seemed to be going
round at a very long distance from
him just as if he were gazing at them
through the thin end of a pair of op
era glasses.
"Upon my soul," he said, "I feel like
a teetotum."
Suddenly, and evidently by some oc
cult arrangement and' understanding'
between themselves, everything stood
stock still ia its proper place and distance-boots,
socks, nightcap, ceiling;
"ur, armor, brasses,
els there they were
carvings, enam
all of them as
fcteaay as a rock.
"This," said Dexter, with a weak lit
tle laugh, reaching out his hand to the
teapot to pour himself out a cup of hot
tea, "is about the rummiest thing that
ever happened to me. Nobody would
believe it of me, and I don't know no,
upon my soul, I don't quite know if I
believe it of myself."
He was surprised to find that the
tea had got ice cold all in a minute. .
"Here's another funny thing I don't
Quite believe," he said; "a minute ago
the tea was' boiling hot, and now it's
as cold as charity. But I mustn't: for
get it's winter; that's what's making
my fingers tremble so. Jolly cold
Jolly cold. Yes, jolly -cold as charity.
No; that can't be right. Jolly cold as
charity sounds topsy-turvy.
The cup rattled in the saucer, and
the spoon against both, as he held them
in his hands, and wondered why the
tea was so cold.
He did not know that a day and a
night and the best part of another day
had passed since he went to bed.
With difficulty he replaced the
and sa:cer on the table.
cup
Just in time, for everything began to
Eo round again, and there he was ly
ing on the flat of his back, watching
lhe gyrations In a kind of stupid, con
tented stupor.
. Ainoeg th carriBgs .wore some
VOL. XXVIII.
THE SLUMS.
FARJEON.
rroeer old faces of men. and women and
animals, which glided occasionally
from the silent waltz to have a close
look at him; and wJhen in his thoughts
he asked them how. they were, and
whether they were enjoying them
selves, they grinned and nodded at
him, and seemed to say:
"Very much, indeed, very much, in
deed. And how are you, old fellow?
and how. are you enjoying yourself?"
"Quite .well, thank you," he replied,
quietly. "Pray, don't stop on my ac
count. Go round go round. There's
a number of little circles up there,
and you'll just fit into them. Antt
there's my boots waiting for partners.
But upon my soul and body, if any1
little boy or girl would tell me what it
all means, I give 'em a brand new far
den. It won't last long, that's one
comfort."
For it was all over once more, and
every article in the room .was as sober
as a judge.
He felt so thirsty that he determined
to have another cup of tea, cold as it
was; but when he put out his hand he
could not find the tea things.
He managed to crane his bead over
the bedside, and there upon the floor
lay the teapot, cup and saucer, broken
in a dozen pieces.
"Now, how did that - happen?" he
wondered; ; "not . a moment ago they
were as sound as I am; and I didn't
hear anything fall. It's that con
founded waltzing, I suppose. Enough
to upset everything in the place. Nev
er mind, I'll have some water."
' But to say he would have some wa
ter was one thing, and to have some
water was another. The water in the
jug was a mass of ice.
To crawl out of bed and get a sharp
pointed knife and to crawl back again
shivering and dig into the ice with the
knife till he obtained sufficient to as
suage his thirst, occupied him much
longer than he supposed, for he had
lost count of time, and intervals which
he reckoned as so many minutes were
in reality so many hours.
"I'm as weak as a kitten;" he
thought; "but come what will, I'll
have s6me sleep, or I'll know the rea
son why."
So he winked at. his father's night
cap, and saying, "If you're going to
have another waltz, have the goodness
to let me know beforehand," turned on
his side and fell into a sleep less dis
turbed than he had previously enjoyed.
His dreams were not so extravagant,
but were sufficiently fantastic.
His predominant fancy was that he
was walking through scores and
scores of alleys and courts and narrow
streets for the purpose of asking the
little boys and girls what it all meant.
Every one he asked returned the
same answer, and to every one who
answered him he gave a brand new
farthing. The answer was:
"Old Dexter's had a fever." Not
"You've had a fever," but "Old Dex
ter's had a fever," as if he himself
.was somebody else.
"But look here," he said to a young
imp with weak eyes and red hair;
"I'm old Dexter!"
"Gammon!" retorted the young imp,
with scornful snap of his fingers.
"Did you ever see old Dexter going
about as you're a-going on, with a sack
of brand new f ardens on his back, giv
ing 'em away as if they was stones?
You old Dexter. Tell that to the ma
rines." By which speech the dreamer knew
that he carried on his back a sack
filled with the new farthings he was
giving away so liberally.
: He did not find it at all an unpleas
ant sort of hump, and . notwithstand
ing that there were thousands of farth
ings in it, it was as light as a bag of
feathers.
He went about to other boys and
girls, and tried to bribe them with ad
mitting that he was old Dexter, and
no other fellow; but bribe them as he
might, lie could not get them to admit
that het was himself.
! Said one, "Arsk old Sally if you don't
believe us, and give her four farth
ings." Old Sally was a blind woman who
stood begging on the curbstone every
Saturday night injClare Market, within
twenty yards of Thomas Dexter's shop.
The dreamer gave her four farthings,
saying:
"I'm Thomas Dexter."
"Ne, no, kind sir," said Sally.
"You're hiding your charity under an
other name than your own. Thomas
Dexter never gives anything to the
poor."
"Here you, sir," cried the dreamer to
a figure in a gray cloak that happened,
oddly, to come his way. "Tell me why
old Sally and the little chaps wont
recognize me. I should like to know,
really, and I'll pay yer for the informa
tion." ,
"Pay me, then," said the figure, hold-'
ing out his two hands, which the
'dreamer filled with farthings, "and
look and learn."
He flung the farthings into the air,
and they changed instantly into little
birds, their feathers the colors of the
rainbow.
The odd part of the affair was that
every bird wore a white apron, like a
waiter, and every, one7 of them carried
something nice to eat or drink.
v
PITTSBORQ, CHATHAM COUNTY, N. C, THURSDAY. DECEMBER 21, 1905. NO. 19.
Loavou f bread, basins of soup,
sheeps trotters, mutton chops, plum
duff, pork sausages, mince pies, and
goodness only knows what, which they
immediately commenced to distribute
among the thousands and thousands of
J?oor children who started up like mag
ic on all sides.
The faces of many of these poor chil
dren .were familiar to the dreamer, for
he had seen them in his walks about
the streets.
The most familiar figure in the
throng was Little Make-Believe, who
seemed to be ubiquitous, she was so
continually repeating herself.
How eagerly they took the food
from the birds, and how eagerly they
ate and drank the good things!
What a chorus of thanksgiving filled
the air! . "Prime, ain't it?" "Here's a
jolly go!" "Good luck ter yer!" "Warms
a chap, don't it?" "Never had such a
feed in all my born days!" "I wouldn't
call the Emperor of Koosher my un
cle!" And they laughed and hoorayed, and
the birds kept up a pleasant twittering
all the time.
"What do you think of the sight?"
asked the figure in the gray cloakT
"It's beautiful!" exclaimed the
dreamer, enthusiastically.
"Well, did old Dexter ever do such
a thing?"
"I don't remember," said the dream
er, considering a little, "that he ever
did."
"It's worth doing, is it not?"
"I should say it was. Listen to the
little chaps."
"It seems to please you.
"It does."
"Why," asked the cloaked figure,
"did old Dexter never indulge in a
pleasure so cheaply purchased?"
"Now yer mention it," replied the
dreamer, "I suppose it is because he
never thought of it."
"Not a young man, this Dexter?"
"Not at all."
'How old, should you say?"
"Oh, I know, having lived with him
so long. He's fifty-five."
"Fifty-five! And never thought of
doing a charitable action."
"Perhaps he didn't have time," plead
ed the dreamer.
"Not in all those fifty-five years? A
large family of his own to occupy him,
perhaps?"
"No," said the dreamer, with some
thing like a sigh, "he has no family."
"No wife?"
"No. Here, I say!" cried the dream
er, excitedly, as the phantom of Polly
Cleaver glided past. "What are you
doing here? I thought you was dead."
"To whom are you speaking?"
"To one who was my wife for about
a month. There she is no, she's
gone!"
"Dead to you?"
"Dead to every one, so far as I
know."
"And left no child behind her?"
"None that I ever heard of."
"So you stand alone, without one hu
man link of love to bind you to the
world, without sympathy, without
charity, without a spark of kind feel
ing for the suffering and helpless.
Farewell."
In the utterance of this word the
children and the birds faded from his
sight, and the dreamer found himself
alone with the figure in the gray cloak,
which was slowly moving away.
"But I say, old boy!" cried the dream
er, "you are rather hard on old Dex
ter. He isn't at all a bad sort of fel
low. Upon my soul, he isn't."
He caught hold of the cloak, which
'fell from the figure, and the dreamer
saw before him the form of a man
shaped in ice, and on the region of the
heart were inscribed the words, "Old
Dexter's Charity."
The dreamer laid his hand upon the
inscription, and shivered as . he mur
mured: "Precious cold, upon my soul!"
Then everything vanished and Thom
as Dexter enjoyed a dreamless sleep of
several hours.
He was aroused to consciousness by
a postman's knock at the street door.
He jumped out of bed and shuffled
into his shop, where he saw the letter
drop through a slit.
On the floor there -were two or three
other letters andthree copies of a dailr
newspaper which the postman poked
every morning under the door.
He gathered the newspapers and
looked at the dates.
"Why," he muttered in wonder, "I've
been asleep for three days and nights.
I've been ill, I suppose. I feel better
now, but still a bit shaky. What's
that noise?"
It was a noise of voices in the street,
followed by a cracking at the door,
which betokened that people were try
ing to force an entrance.
"Hold hard!" he cried. "What do
yer want?"
In response he heard voices exclaim
ing: "It's old Dexter's voiced
"It ain't; it's his ghost's!"
"It's somebody robbing the place!"
"Break it in, policeman; break it in!".
To avert the destruction Thomas
Dexter hastily unlocked the door and
threw it open.
And there he stood, clad only in his
shirt, confronting quite a number of
persons, most of them neighbors, who,
alarmed at the shutters being up and
at Dexter not making his appearance
for three days, had prevailed upon the
policeman to effect an entrance into
the shop.
All of them fell back at his appear
ance, and a few ran away as fast as
if Old Nick himself were at their heels,
and when they were at a safe distance
spread a report that Dexter was dead
and his ghost was coming that way.
Those who remained were soon con
vinced that Thomas Dexter was alive
by the abuse he hurled at them for
their kindly interest in his behalf.
JT be Coatinued,
fJ n
tbc flRorrifng of
Thijpy the" month, .Mnd 'tHi'thehappy. moi h t
Wherein the Son'" of heaven's eternal Kinp,
Of wedded Hatd and Virgin Mother born,'
Our creat redemption from above did bring.
' for, so the holy apes once did slr9v '
That He our deadly forfeit should Velease,
, And. with H15 JTathQrjJorh.u Q t berjietuajqce:
IThatlonousforrn, thaHihunsuf ferable ,
And that far-beaming blaze of majesty;,
Wherewith ttewont'at. heaven's ihioh council,
table' .
To sit in the midst of " TrinalUmt.
ie laid aside, -and here witft 115 toJj)
for$o6k the courts of. everlasting, day.,
f
morral c.la
- ' - -
UO.V HE jolly, potbellied, roister
5 J ing old Santa Claus is in
O I O hot water. Preachers and
tL parents are rising up
y$C9r against him. declaring that
r he is a fraud and as such
ought to be suppressed. Thank heav
en, a sporadic agitation like this can
have no .serious results. Recalcitrant
parents and preachers will pass away.
Santa Claus will endure until the end,
as he has endured from the beginning.
No one can say how old he is or at
what period he made his first appear
ance among prehistoric men. The
name of Santa Claus, by which he is
known in America, is the Dutch pet
name for St. Nicholas. The name
Criss Cringle, by which he is-known
in England, is a corruption of Christ
Kindiein, or the Christ child. But the
festivities that distinguish Christmas
existed long before Christianity, and a
jolly god of good cheer appears as the
personification of the period from the
earliest pagan' times. Now, the Santa
Claus of to-day is simply that old jolly
god sobered up, washed and purified.
The Dionysia of the Greeks, the Sat
urnalia of the Romans, the Twelve
Nights of the old Norsemen and of the
Teutons all celebrated the coming of
the winter solstice. People then gave
themselves up to all sorts of revelry
and excess. In the Dionysia the repre
sentative figure was not the young
Dionysus or Bacchus, but the aged,
cheery and disreputable Silenus, the
chief of the Satyrs, or the god of
drunkards. In the Saturnalia it was
Saturn, in the Germanic feasts it was
Thor, both long bearded and wliite
haired gods like Silenus.
Now;, although the. central figure of
the Christian festival is the child God,
the Christ Kindiein, the iniluence of
long pagan custom was too strong
within the breasts of the early Chris
tians to be easily superseded. The tra
dition of hoary age as the true repre
sentative of the dying year and its at
tendant jollifications still remained
smoldering under the ashes of the past.
It burst into new flame when the past
was too far back to be looked upon
with the fear and antagonism of the
church, and there seemed no longer
any danger of a relapse into pagan
ism. At first, however, the more dig
nified representative was chosen as
more in keeping with the occasion.
Saturn was unconsciously rebaptized
s St.. Nicholas, the name of the saint
MOTHER AND CHILD.
N. Barabino, a Living Italian Painter.
5 .ZZ71KK3k ce
iwfc&E&m mm
Jit
'
li'll
; Hilton
in 1
heanceslrif
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rauj
whose festival occurs in December,
and who, as the patron of young peo
ple, is especially fitted for the patron
age of the lestival which has come to
be looked upon as especially that of
the young. At first St. Nicholas did
not supersede the Christ child, but ac
companied Him in His Christmas trav
els, as, indeed, he still does in certain
rural neighborhoods of Europe wjiere
the modern spirit has been least felt.
St. Nicholas, according to the hagio
logists, was a bishop of Myra, who
flourished early in the fourth century.
He is the matron of children and school
boys. It is strange that everywhere St.
Nicholas is most honored and his feast
day most observed the most pious and
instructed among the common people
know little of the legend of the saint.
Christmas Eve in Brittany:
When the average visitor arrives in
Brittany for the first time he generally
rubs his eyes to find out whether he is
asleep or awake, for he discovers a
land so novel in its aspect, a people
so quaint in manners, customs and
clothes, that it all seems like a dream
from which he will presently awake
to the nineteenth century he certainly
leaves once the confines of this land
are passed. Think of a low, flat coun
try, with a strange growth of gnarled,
queer-looking trees, of great stretches
of plains with dark, surging grasses,
only Tiow and then a low hovel of a
thatched stone house, in which the na
tives and their live stock, particularly
the pigs, dwell together.
It is a place of little joy of living,
for the land is ungrateful, and it re
quires all the energies of the husband
man to get even the smallest return
for his work. The poverty is appalling
and beggary is on all sides. The peas
ants rarely eat meat because of its
cost. They live mainly on a soggy
black bread, which is broken up into
He is treated with that mixture of
seriousness and frivolity which be
comes a dying myth. One masquer
ades in his dress in the evening and
prays to him in the morning, and so
fulfils a duty without spoiling the fun.
Yet even the mumming has an educa
tional purpose.
THE GERMAN SANTA CLAUS.
In Southern Germany and Austria a
youth possessing the necessary relig
ious knowledge is masked, dressed in
long white vestments, with a silk scarf
and furnished with a miter and cro
zier. He is accompanied by two an
gels and a whole troop of devils. The
angels are dressed much like the choir
boys in Anglican or Catholic churches.
V
i.
Each carries a basket. The devils
blacken their faces and add horns of
pigs' snouts or such other fantastic de
vices as the ingenuity of boyhood can
devise. They are girt with chains,
which they shake or rattle furiously.
It is thought much better fun to be a
devil than an angel, hence the number
of the former is only limited to the
number of boys who are able to com
mand the necessary regalia... In the
twilight of the evening of December 5
the good bishop and his suite begin
their round of visits. It is the season
for juvenile parties, and almost all the
children of the village are collected in
a few separate houses, each of which
St. Nicholas visits in turn. He enters
with the two angels, while his swar
thy followers are left to play their
pranks outside. A great silence falls
upon the children, and one by one they
are called up and examined by the
saint. This part of the evening's busi
ness is carried on with the greatest se
riousness and decorum. Simple relig
ious questions suited to the age of
each child are propounded, after which
it has to sing hymns and recite pray
ers. If the ordeal is successfully
passed the angels present it with nuts
and apples. If it fails it has to stand
aside. When the examination is ended
the devils are called in.
They are not allowed to approach
the good children, but may tease and
frighten the naughty ones as much as
they like. They do this at first as a
matter of duty. Duty is followed by
the pleasures whose anticipation had
caused them to enlist pleasures which .
consist in strange dances and antics,
and in pursuing the larger girls with
the attempt to blacken their faces.
Their whole appearance is intended to
be grotesque and farcical. For the en
tire evening they are allowed full li
cense in the villages, though in some
of the towns the festival has, for good
reasons, been prohibited. For weeks
before the eve of St. Nicholas a devil
may occasionally be seen at the win
dow of some cottage where the chil
dren are supposed to be naughty or
their elder sister is known to be par
ticularly attractive. It is proof of the
sound nerves of the children that no
harm comes from the ordeal.
When St. Nicholas has left the chil
dren return to their own homes, but
they do not believe that the generosity
of the saintly bishop has been ex
hausted. After saying their prayers
and going to bed they place dishes or
baskets upon the windowsill, with
their names written within them, and
in these their parents deposit small
presents, which their little sons and
daughters fancy he has brought.
In many places the bugbear over
shadows in importance both the Christ
child and St. Nicholas. He appears
under different names and in different
guises. In Lower Austria he is the
frightful Krampus, with his clanking
chains and horrible devil's mask, who,
notwithstanding his gilded nuts and
apples, gingerbread and toys, which
he carries in his basket, is the terror
of the nursery. In Hanover, Holstein
and Mecklenburg he is known as Clas.
In Silesia his name is Joseph.
the Little Carol Singars.
a soup made of a piece of suet stewed
in boiling water. When the sardine is
in season it is added, although this fish
is generally eaten broiled, and wrhen
the chestnut comes all hands stuff at
all hours of the day. The children
dress just like the grown folks, and
for both a single dress is kept most of
their lives for the best, while on every
day their, collection of garments, save
with the better classes, is remarkable.
.But there are interesting customs
that happen there, and have happened
for, lo, these many years, since there is
little change in Brittany- That of
feeding the poor is a significant one,
taking place on Christmas Eve, as well
as at other times. Here comes the lit
tle ones of the poor to get their pieces
of black bread and the bonne of the
good cure distributes without preju
dice to all comers. The clank of the
sabots is heard along the stone streets
as these unfortunate children tramp
up to the rectory, and the picturesque
ness of the scene is emphasized' by the
opera bouffe clothes the suppliants
wear.
Sometimes the bugbear was a fe
male. In. Lower Austria she " was
called the Budelfrau. In Suabia it
was the Berchtel who chastised chil
dren that did 'not spin diligently with
rodsi but rewarded the industrious
with dried pears, apples and nuts.
The female bogie survives, especially
in Russia and in Italy. In the former
place she is known as the Baboushka,
in the latter as the Befana. Befana
is a corruption of Epiphania or Epi
phany. For it is on Epiphany, Janu
ary 6, that the Italians make presents
to their children in commemoration of
the gifts given by the three wise men
to Christ on that date. New York
Herald.
&l)t Chatham fUtotb.
RATES OF ADVERTISING,
One square, one insertion $1.00
One square, two insertions 1.60
One square, one month 2.50
For Larger Advertise
ments Liberal Con
tracts will be made.
With the EunnyH
53
Fellotvs
Pity tHe Poo Rich.
Don't blame a man because he's rich
And has a lot of pelf;
For if you don't watch oit belike
You may get rich yourself.
- Judge. :
ETerythliic Else Ia.
She (on shipboard) "Is the moon up
dear.?"
He "If it isn't it's lonesomer Har
per's Bazar.
A Comeback.
Her "I wouldn't marry you if yoi
were the only man in the world."
Him "If I had any such cinch as
that you'd never get the chance."
Cleveland Leader.
He Had Hla.
Bleeker "Cheer up, old man; there'
a good time coming."
Meeker "Not for me. My wife la
coming back from the country to-morrow."
Chicago News.
r The Important Things.
The Husband "Why, my. trunk is
full of your shirt waists."
The Wife "Yes. I found there
.wasn't roon in it for them and your
clothes also." Harper's Bazar.
Valnei.
"After all a kiss is worth only what
the contracting parties think it'a
.worth."
"Well, a girl's kiss Is always worth
its face yalue." Philadelphia Press.
Evident.
"How did you know that Blank la
.wealthy? I didn't mention it!"
"Yes, you did, indirectly. You said
his brother-in-law was a duke. That's
the same as4 saying that there's m6ney(
in the family!" Detroit Free Press.
Betrayal.
Rodney "Why do automobile men
wear goggles?"
Sidney "If I tell you, you'll tell."-, '
Rodney "Never; honor bright!"
Sidney "Well, it's to hide that
scared look in our eyes." Harper'
Bazar. - - -
Very Precise.
i "Last Friday week was your birth
day, wasn't it?" asked Mis Wabasha
"Nonsense !" retorted Miss Boston
"Why, what's the matter?"
"It was the anniversary of my birth
I'm not an infant." Philadelphia
Press.
A . Ti
l i ill nil ta ,
No Wonder.
"Where is Charlie Blower, the cor
net player?" . I
"Studying abroad." ; 1
"Who advised him to go so far to
study?"
"All of his neighbors." Cleveland
Plain Dealer.
A Narrow Escahe.
Tramp "Won't you please give me
somethin' ter eat?" 1
Mr. Newwed "Wait V till my wif
comes. She's been at cooking school
and will bring something good along'
Tramp "I'm sorry . I can't wait, as
I've got a special engagement"--New
York Evening Mall.
The Price of Pride.
First Motorist "The fool wouldn't
have been fined if he hadn't admitted
that he was going at the rate of fiftyj
miles an hour."
Second Motorist "But think of "thet
standing it gives him at the club. The
speed he makes is now a matter of
court record.' Town Topics.
Couldn't Deny It.
The venerable college president aad
been invited to address the Bachelor
Girls' Club, numbering a hundred ce
more. .
"I see now," he said, looking around
at the fair young faces and sparkling,
eyes before him, "that Mr. Rockefeller,
is right when he says the country is
still full of ' opportunities for our
young men." Chicago Tribune.
WiBderu'n End.
"While he was unJcr thirty his par
ents had too much sense to let hixn
marry."
"Yes."
"While he was unlor fifty hi? hiiMoo
much sense to wee."
"I see."
"Now that he's cisMy-iivc "
"Weil?"
"He's going tD take a wiie.'' Hou-1
ton Chronicle.