,-~..---t.,....-.u-r,~.-4‘¢gl--n .. u . . ... u. - :lt~|.“‘-Iw CLANCY OF THE OVERFLOW. I had written him a letter, which I had or want of better Kncfwledge, sent to where I met him, down the Lachlan years ago, He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him Just on “spec,” addressed as follows: Clancy of the Overflow. And the answer came directed in a writ- ing unexpected, ' (Which I think the same was written with a thumb-nail dipped in tar,). ’Twas his shearing mate who .wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it: “Clancy’s gone to Queensland droving and we don’t know where he are. In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy Gone a-droving down the Cooper where the Western drovers go; As the stock are slowly stringing, Clancy rides behind them singing, For the drover’s life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know. And the bush has friends to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him In the milrmur of the breezes and the river on its bars; And he sees the vision splendid of the sunlight plains extended, And at night the wondrous glory of the everlasting stars. I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy _ Ray of sunlight faintly struggles down between the houses tall; And the fetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty citv Through the open window floating spreads its foulness over all. And instead of lowing cattle I can hear the fiendish rattle . Of the tramways and the busses mak- ing hurry down the street, And the language uninviting of the gut- ter children fighting Comes fitfully and faintly through the ceaseless tramp of feet. 7_ And the hurrying people daunt me and their pallid faces haunt me As they shoulder one another in their rush and nervous haste, I’Vith their eager eyes and greedy, and their stunted forms and weedy; For townsfolk have no time to grow, they have no time to waste. And I somehow rather fancy that I’d like to change with Clancy, Like to take a turn at droving Where the seasons come and go, While he faced the round eternal of the cashbook and the journal— But I doubt he’d suit the office, Clancy of the Overflow. W. P. _———_ What Frightened Bub Caner. BY FRANK H. CONVERSE. Bob Carter was sixty-five years old and wore spectacles—which latter institution is as uncommon among the seafaring frate nity as a wooden leg would be. An yet the old man was always the first one aloft, in “shortening sail "— could take as good a trick at the Wheel as any one on board—and, to all appear- ances, was as smart and active as any of our crew. “Rather a. hard life for a man of your years, Bob.” said I, one night, after four hours of shortening sail in a nor-wester on the Banks of Newfoundland, in which it had seemed as though the half-furled sails would have blown from the yards, before we could secure them, so stiff and iced up were they with the frozen sleet. The old ship, cotton—loaded from Mo— bile for Liverpool, was now lying to under close-reefed main—topsail and fore- staysail, making very good weather of it, as cotton ships generally do when hove to, and seldom taking any water on board, though a terrible sea was run- ning, and the wind was shrieking through the tautened weather-rigging with a sound that one never hears at any other time, and which will make one think of home, if anything will. We were stretched out on a spar lashed under the weather—bulwarks, longing for our weary watch to come to an end, though there were still three hours of ex- posure to cold and darkness. “Yes,” answered Bob, “it is a hard life, ’specially for any one who has known a better one—as I fancy you have—” “Never mind me, Bob,” said I some: ' what hastily, for I seldom, in those days, spoke of my past, “ but give us the yarn -—how you happened to be here, at your age.” “ It’s the old story; nothing very sing’- lar or strange—that part of it ain’t,” answered the old man, sorrowfully; “though there’s b’en enough in my life that was strange. I’ve b’en in the ‘ Sail- ors’ Snug Harbor,’ over to Staten Island, for goin’ on ’leven year,” continued Bob, “untel six weeks ago. I was jest such an 01’ fool as to go over to New York with about fourteen dollars that I’d made weavin’ basket—work. “ An’ of course I couldn’t keep away from places where I should be like to find some of my 01’ shipmates; an’ the most likely place to find an 01’ sailor lays down round Water and‘ Cherry streets, where a man ’u’d get ‘shook down’ for a dollar, quicker’n he could say ‘ knife.’ “It was forty-two year that I hadn’t touched a drop of whisky, an’ the way I happened to leave off is the strange thing that I’m goin’ to tell you of, ’fore I get through. “ An’ I ’lowed that it would take a smart man to get a drop down my throat, an’ so I went into Tommy H——’s Sailor Boardin’—House, an’ ran across Joe How— ard an’ two or three other chaps, that was in the ship Mogul with me a couple of v’yages before. “ Well—it ain’t worth while tellin’ the rest that went on while I was there. I woke up next mornin’ an’ found myself in the fo-castle of the ol’ ship Mary Bangs, with a splittin’ headache, a bag of 01’ sailor duds, an’ bound to Mobile. “I’ve b’en ‘shangh’ied’ once before, an’ I never was so mad in all my born days! Men was scarce then, an’ was hav- in’ thirty—five dollars for the run to M0- liquor, got myr'advance, an’ shoved me aboard the Mary Bangs, de’d drunk——a trick that he’s b’en playin’ on 01’ sail- ors for twenty year, more or less, an’ they always threaten to kill him if ever they get back—an’ never do. “ That’s how I come here; I stayed by in Mobile, an’ got enough shirts to las’ me across, an’ am makin’ the best of it.” " And how was it that you knocked off drinking?” said I, as Bob heaved a long sigh for the comforts of the “ Sail- ors’ Snug Harbor,” and bit off a piece of tobacco. - "Oh,- that’s another thing,” said the old man, “ but I don’t mind tellin’ you, seein’ it’s two hours yet to eight bells,” and settling himself anew on the spar, Bob commenced: “When I was twenty year old, I was jest the most reckless chap that ever you heard of. An’ in them days, it’s fair to say that I didn’t care for man, an’ I never thought of God, an’ so I went from bad to wuss. ‘ “ What made me so is neither here nor there—there was a woman to the bottom of it, as there most gen’rally is to all deviltry, an’ so I shipped ’fore the mast in a. smuggler, an’ sence that time, up to the time I partly lost my eyes1ght through bein’ struck by, li’tenin’ on the river Platte, I’ve sailed under ev’ry flag that floats, ’cept the Chinese, an’ seen the world over an’ over ag’in. ' “ In ’35, I was to Barbaders, mate of a little schooner, tradin’ for shells, ma- hogany, an’ palm—oil, n’ the like, out of New York, an’ the schooner Phebe laid ’longside of us, owned by the same own-_ ers, an’ in the same business. “ Ever hear tell of the ‘ flowerin’ cove,’ that lays inside the lagoon to the west- ’ard of us? ’ asked Bill Hunter, mate.ot the Phebe, as we sot fightin’ sandflies an’ smokin’, one evenin’, after we’d knocked off work. “I’d heard the darkies say somethin' about it’s being an ‘ Obi’ place, as they call anything that seems like witchery to them, an’ so I told him, an’ we made up with a couple of the men, and a darky or two to show us the way, to row over there next evening, before nightfall, which, when the time came, we did. “We got inside the line of surf with- out any trouble, an’ rowed direck for the mouth of the cove—a little land-locked piece of smooth water, not more’n thirty rod or so square. “When we got within ten or twelve foot of the mouth- of the cove we eased our cars, as'the darkies bid us. “The top of the water was white with posies, that looked for all the world like vi’lets, only they was white. rowed into the cove, an’ whether you b’leeve me or not, they disappeared like li’tenin’. boat. a “ We fooled round for some time, tryin’ to get hold of one, but the minnit you’d make a speck of noise, under they’d go, an’ as the surf was beginnin’ to break on the bar outside, an’ the darkies got scar’t, we had to leave. “ Next night we was goin’ ashore high the same place, an’ owin’ to not under- standin’ how to run a boat through the . . .' surf, Sam Welch, who was steerin’, upsot When Bl“ Phldlan sa‘id’ her, an’ pitched us all inter the water. “ There was four of us-Sam, Bill Hunter, Charley Decker, an’ a chap that called himself Sullivan—a reg’lar des- p’rado he was, too, an’ what was curi’s, he couldn’t swim, for all he’d been goin’ to sea for twenty or thirty year. “ We all got safe to shore but him; an’ I think the boat must ’a’ knocked him lected on the head, for we found him where the ' sea washed him up, an hour or so after, all drawed up—his knees ’most touchin’ his chin, 811’ his arms 501‘ ‘3 0f before his hands, waiting for \the word to fire. The face, an‘ a big bruise on his temple. “ We carried him up to the only house who was afraid that his protector would .there was, where an ole Scotch carpenter be killed_ He crossed himself in prayer by the name of Thompson, whod run for his defenderis success, and shut his away from 3- Whalel' thu'ty year 129mm" eyes when the word " fire!” was shout- an’ settled there, lived, an’ we tried to ed. Two,s,hots three and the fourth bring him to, but it warn’t no use. Our were exchangea ’ boat was stove, so we couldn t get back when the ranchman’s pistol slipped from aboard, an there was a storm comin up, his ,hand, and ,he died without a groan so we laid Sullivan out in one of the Phidian checked h-s ,h two rooms on a board, put across two us, and dismounlteiorse’ mde up to chairs, an’ hopin’ that his lim’s would «Thank the saints he is safe! n comp strai’t, so we could bury him decent ly had he uttered the words before the flex day, W? 1215th mm t? the “F” cavalier cowboy reeled and fell. With some pieces of 00rd, an I Went mto badly wounded, but apparently not fatal— the next room. everything that was crooked, not leavin out piratln’. if What he said Was true. Plit the doctor came, and said it was best as I said, I wasn't 110118 too SflueamlSh’ to take Bill to San Antonio, and if not an’.had seen some queer comp ny in my carried there he would probably die. day; so when the old man brought out Old Juarez seemed delighted, and de- a bottle of Santa Cruz rum. W8 t90k clared that his friend should stop at no some all round, an' as it was P3111111, Ilke other house but his, a. few miles from cats and dogs. With 110W 311’ then a STOW] the city. In less than a week Bill was 0f thunder, some 0f ’em Proposed a hand carried to the adobe house, near the old of cards to pass away the time. W53“, it came 011 to thunder an, old man and his two pretty daughters. llghtnln’. an’ bl'OW, as it only can do in I went down every day or two from the the tropics, but we kep’ at our cards. till city to see the wounded hero and be- on a sudden I heard a noise in the room came acquainted with the two girls. where Sullivan laid. thought she might ’a’ got in there. a hand,’ says Sam Welch, another reek follered. fibres, so as to let what little air ther was draw through it), an’ the minnit we Chiquita was in the habit of frequently did so, a draught blowed the candle out, coming in with Pepita and bathing his an’ at the same time there came sech a feverish brow and talking to him- She roar of thunder an’ blaze of reg’lar blue would sit near his couch and watch the lightnin’ that it seemed as though the patient, as if trying to read in his face sky was fallin’. “ And in that awful blue glarefth‘at shake off the stupor that often came bile, so Tommy H——- had drugged my lit up the room for» as much as four or upon“ him and ask the girls to sing. “After we’d looked at ’em a spell, we “ ‘ S’pose you lay. still on oar, you see ’em ’gain,’ said our darky cock, as we stared at one another: an’ sure enough. as we kep’ still, first one would shoot up, then afiother, then another, till there was perhaps twenty of ’em in sight, but not one within ten or twelve foot of the “Thompson was an 01’ reprobate any- sent forty miles for a doctor on Ju_ way, an’ by his talk he’d‘done 'mOSt arez took charge of the patient and “ ‘ Hold on, boys,’ said I. ‘ The cat has years younger. The former was tall and got in the room ’—for cats is the master— graceful in her movements, with large, hands to knOW Where anybOdY lays dead, expressive black eyes, and the latter' was an’ I’d seen one round the house, an’ a, gay, merry lass, with a pretty face, “ ‘ More like it’s Sullivan wants to take was always singing a Spanish ditty. less critter; ‘but go ahead, Bob, if you I found old Juarez hovering faithfully ain’t frightened,’ an’ takin’ the candle in round the bed, gazing in deep sympathy one hand an’ holdin’his cards with the at. the pale face of the man who risked other, we two started an’ the others his life for him. “We opened the door (the house was a with which he usually greeted me. Bill little one-story concern, built of bam— then repeated in echo the words, “Bet— boos, thatched an’ wattled with cocoa— ter, yes, better.” ‘ m IMW’ MWQI hill“ Will i» i five seconds, we see-Bill Sullivan come up on end with his eyes starin’ horrible, an’ make jest as though he was gom’ to spring in ’mongst us. “. Sech another yell as I let out of me— an’ the rest, too, for that matter—an’ the way we piled out of that room wasn’t. slow. “ It was more’n half an hour ’fore I dared to light the candle, for the rest of ’em had run pell—mell out into the driv- in’ rain, an’ I was under the table, ex- pectin’ every minnit that Bill would grab me with his dead hands. “ But, after we got over the scare a. little, it was all plain enough. The cords that we’d lashed him down with was old an’ rotten, an’ the strain of his bent legs an’ arms, where his muscles an’ sinews had stiffened when the breath left .his body, was so great that they had parted, jest as we happened to come into the room. 7 “We berried him next day, in a little place fenced off, where there was two or three others berried that had died of yeller fever and the like; but over his grave I swore off drinkin’, an’ stuck to it for forty years, as I was tellin’ you, till six weeks or so ago.” Just as Bob finished, the welcome strokes of the bell gave the signal to call the other watch, and in ten minutes more I had forgotten Bob’s story and my unpleasant surroundings in the re- freshing sleep of the sailor. The BavaiheLCuwhny BY HOMER FORT. The San Antonio river is a small, clear stream running through the city of that name. ‘ Several years ago, on its banks some miles below the city, stood an old mission church gradually falling to pieces from decay. In the shadow of the church, in a house built of adobe, dwelt an aged Mexican, Giulano Juarez, and his two daughters, Pepita and Chi— quita. The house was comfortable. Ju- arez owned a. cattle-ranch eighty miles from the Rio Grande river, and was al~ ways present at the annual “ round-ups ” where the ownership of stray cattle, is determined. I was a. cowboy then, try- ing to build up a. constitution by a rough life, and was somewhat under the pro- tection of Bill Phidian, who was known as the cavalier ranchman. Bill had long hair falling over his shoulders, eagle eyes and a splendid physique. He could throw a lariat with more certainty, play a. better game of poker or monte, and had a truer aim with a pistol or rifle than. nine-tenths of the fron-tiersmen. My boyish dream then was to get him to organize a company of cowboys and In— dians and give exhibitions similar to those now given by Buffalo Bill. Sub— sequent events changed our lives, so that the plan fell through. At the last “ round— up " we attendedom Giulano Juarez was there. Phidian did not like the old Mexican, On'general principles. He had an idea that all Mexicans would cheat at cards and steal cattle. The true rea— son, one that Bill never told, was that several ounces of lead were put in his body by Greasers. In dividing the cattle a dispute “arose between Juarez and a young ranchman as to the ownership. The ranchman struck Juarez in the face ‘With the butt-end of his revolver. The old Mexican fell. The infuriated ranch- :man was just about to stamp upon him in his blunt way: “ Yer can’t do that to an old man while I am here—I reckon not.” In a second Bill’s pistol was pointed in the face of the ranchman. “Fair play!” was shouted by all the cowboys present. Those words meant an exchange of shots, either on horse- back or the ground. Horses were se- In a minute the two combatants were astride of two powerful horses, galloping within a circle of twenty feet. They held six-shooters in their right only person excited was the old Mexican, in rapid succession, Juarez said: Scarce— He was 1y. We carried him to a ranch, and dressed his wound. In a day and a half mission church, and waited upon by the Chiquita was nineteen, and Pepita two laughing eyes, and a sweet voice that -. They were well educated. Frequently “ Better, senor, better,” were the words e I knew the reason that he was better. whether he suflered pain. Bill would .flght for honor and justice. Bill, sick They would bring in their guitars and blend their sweet ‘voices in plaintive Spanish songs that brought tears to the eyes of the prostrated cavalier cowboy. I can see his manly hand now as he would put' it out from under the quilt and say with suppressed emotion: “ Shake, Chi, and you, too, Pepy,” ' He called them Chi and Pepy as if he had been playmates with them. Chi- quita would then rise, stately as a queen, and shake his hand cordially and give it a few tender strokes with both of her beautiful hands. Little Pepy, beaming with smiles, would take his hand and kiss it. “I hev heard the lone coyote howl, hev seen many thousand mad steers comin’ like death on a pale horse, hev been surrounded by yelling Injuns, but I hev never been moved afore like this,” he would frequently say while holding Chi’s hand in his just after the singing. Then Chi would lean forward and look wistfully into :his pale, handsome face and tears would gather in her large soulful eyes. Pepita would put her hand- kerchief to her face and go out and weep as if her heart .would break. I soon saw that Chiquita at least admired the brave, reckless man, who would always as he was from his wound, discovered What a. noble natures Chiquita had, and one day expressed it. to me in this quaint style: “ I hev sized the soul of Chi up and it ain’t found wanting. Pard, if I ever git up ag’in I’ll ask her to be my wife. She ain’t got anyI Greaser blood in her, all pure Castillyun, I’ll bet my last copper on it.” This was good news, for I felt. that Chiquita loved him or would learn to before he was able to leave the house. So that day I returned to the city very happy at Bill’s resolution and the turn things were taking. The next day I was lazily strolling along the Plaza Ve- ramenda smoking a. shuck cigarette and weaving all kinds of romances about Bill and the beautiful girl who was to be his wife, “when I looked up and saw Pepita’s pretty face. She was on horseback and rode rapidly. up to me. I saw from her agitated manner that something was the matter. 7 “ Senor, he is dying, I fear. I’ve come for you and the doctor,” she said in the Spanish tongue. Bill was delirious, and talking over some of the past scenes he had wit- nessed in his early youth, but he Seemed to know that the woman he loved was by him. The doctor went to work at once, and in two or' three hours the fever had gone down and Bill was ra- tional. During that time I wondered where he two girls had gone. The day had passed into a beautiful moonlight night. Bill asked for Chi and the doc- tor sent me to find her. I called sev- eral times for the girls, but received no response. I approached the old church and looked through arcrovice. The moon- beams were shining through the partly open roof. They fell upon the sad, up- turned faces of two girls with clasped hands, who were praying. They were Chiquita and Pepita. Tears were min- gled with the prayers, and now and then Chi Would embrace her young sister and weep. I stole back to the house and said «they would come presently. “ I hev something to say to you alone,” said Bill, addressing me. “This is a-goin’ to be my last whistle, and I am a—goin’ to ask a. favor,” he said, taking my, hand and looking me in the face. _ I answered him that anything I could do for him I would do with all my heart. A smile played over his wan features. “ I knew it, and that’s ‘why I hev asked it. Fu’st, never tell Chiquita how many Greasers I’ve done up in my time; it wouldxgive her pain. Second, that time I bu’sted the” three-card-monte sharper at San Marcus, don’t give it away to her that I knew them keerds by their backs; I want her to think I am square. Third, when. I hev passed in and haVe been planted a bit, set up to Chi and take her just for yer old pard’s sake.” ' This last proposition was a surprise, and I was on the point of refusing, when I thought that I could promise it because Chiquita loved him and would love no one else. “ Yes, everything I promise, Bill, but I expect you to get well and marry her yourself,” was the reply. “Ah, no; that infernal rancher must hev put p’iSon in his bullet, for I grow weaker every moment,” he answered, in a low tone. ‘ ' I saw that his time was drawing near. “ Where is Chi?" he asked. of the Mexican girl glided in and went to the bedside of the dying cowboy. She knelt by, his side and held up the image of the Saviour undergoing cruci- fixion. When Bill was a boy, back in the States, he had said prayers at his mother’s knees, but never since. He knew, though, what Chi wanted. “ My heart ain’t choked with sin, Chi, and I ain’t done nuthin’ that’s hurtin’ me now, but ter please you I’ll follow,” he said, putting his arm partly over her shoulder. She raised 5the image in her left hand, and with her right arm around his neck uttered several prayers, which he re- peated fervently after her. Old Juarez came then and took the image and knelt at the foot of the bed. Pepita. was weep- ing near her father. “Chi, this is some sunshine, ain’t it, to pass inter the valley 0’ the shadow of death with yer arms about me? I hev always thought I’d do it with my boots on out on the bold prairie and no tombstone but a chapparal-bush or a cactus-plant. I hev watched the stars many a night, lying on the bare ground. and hev never seen one that is as bright as yer face, Chi. There, I love ter feel yer cheek on mine: it’s my passport to cross the river. Closer, Chi, my girl, closer, fur I’m growing cold and all is getting dark. Yer face is the only star I see, and I go to it.” The cavalier cowboy was dead in the arms of the woman he loved. By the old mission church two graves side by side contain the mortal remains of the cavalier cowboy and his faithful Chi. The door opened and the stately form. The/World on Wheels; __- Winter bicycling has but few ‘1? devotees, yet there are days and " ' many of them when a. few miles’ more sure to promote appetite, to redden the blood, to assure tired nature’s sweet restorer, “ Banner ” boys—try. it! . 'A lady friend, a married woman, who has found almost rejuvenated youth in her outings with her wheel, thus ode verts to the tandem: “ For many reasons it is easier for a woman who knows nothing about riding to learn a. tandem to riding by herself. The great advan- take much longer rides than when I rode my own wheel, without getting tired. Don’t imagine that I let my hus- band do all the pedalling, though I am willing to confess that I take-miles of unalloyed comfort with my feet on the brackets and my [hands lying idly in my lap.” To which we had to reply: “ Cer- tainly; it is the man’s business to do the pedalling; that is what you married him for—to pedal you for better or worse through life, on the marriage tandem.” Talking of wheelwomen: Says 3. Chi- cagoan (and surely what he don’t know bifurcated garment will be as extinct as ~the -American bison. When the craze first struck the gentler sex nothing could convince them that the pants were un- frights in them. Neither the laughter boy were strong enough to cause women to abandon them. But as time wore on they at last had their eyes opened, and now recognize that bloomers are not suit- able for female wear.” We rise to remark—to re—remarkyfor we have more than once, in this col- umn, made this protest: it is none of men’s business whatever. Woman’s cos- tume for the wheel is solely her own affair; ~her taste, hé'r convenience, her is rather oontemptible human nature which assumes to dictate on such mat- ters. Let women be their own judges as to what is most fit and proper in their costume, in doors and out. Their quick sense of modesty, their almost unfailing good taste, their willingness to be dis- enthralled from the tyranny of corset, and tight. corsage, and cumberin-g skirt. will lead to the proper election of what to wear on the road; and the man who questions her right to this election is a boor. This is BANNER ethics. It is manifest that during~1897 there though the merits of large sprockets are as yet subject to dispute, there will be a. number of riders eager for something different, who will refuse to ride a wheel that has not front» and rear sprockets of a much larger diameter than hereto- fore. The very class who desire these, however, is the, one which advocates feather. weight machines. As a. conse- quence, they, will be confronted with a perplexing problem when they are ready for the new mount. The manufacturers sitating of course an increased length of chain, will increase the [weight of the machine several pounds. ,While to out- siders this increase in weight will not matter much, and may seem a small mat- ter to quibble over, to those who will be most anxtous for the large sprockets the question is a serious one, as they have decided views on the subject of weight. TELEPHONE ‘ECHOES. We sometimes pray for more grace when what we need is more grit. The man who is ahead of his time usually isn’t worth much when his time comes. ' “ I am sorry that Miss Bankum is out. You won’t forget to mention that I called? ” “ No, indade, sor, Oi’ll run roight up an’ tell her now.” Papa—“ Willie, where are those apples gone“ that were in the store'room?” Willie———“ They are with the gingerbread that was in the cupboard." sickles.” “ Gee, Frazzles, yer loony; want ter wear yerself out -a~ridin’ an’ walkin’ at the same time? ” is going to give us several talks on bloomers.” Miss Bloomer—w“ Well, I hope she’ll make ’em short.” Teacher—4‘ Anything is called trans- parent that can be seen through. What scholar can give an example?” Bobby—— park.” Sho«—“ What charming teeth Mrs. Highsea has'.” He——“ You flatter mic, madam.” She~v“0h, pardon. you are dentist." Magistrate—“ If you were innocent, why did you run away the moment the policeman appeared?” yer honor, thim cops do be always aris- tin’ the wrong man.” truth before I can successfully defend you. Have you told me everything?” Prisoner~“ Except where I hid the money. I want that for myself.” “After all,” said the Cummlnsvillo clothes well, and my clothes are well worn.” ' “ If it wasn’t for me my class in school “ Your mother says you are the foot of it stand it it didn’t have a foot? " spin is the height of pleas-' > are and the best of tonic& ' Nothing is more exhilr arant to spirits-nothing l H balmy sleep. Try "it," .. l A: _ 42:”- m r g-e,_,._,m-«~Lu.-. tage I find in the tandem is that I can . isn’t worth mention) “the passing of the bloomer is at hand, and soon the ’ feminine, and that they looked like, of the public nor the jeers of the small ‘ purse alone should be her outfitter. It ~ will be a call for large sprockets and higher gears on all new machines. Ale ‘ " x . 9W assert that the larger sprockets, neces— ' “Ragsy, let’s git us one 0’ them bl- I Miss Wheeler—~“I see Mrs. Sprocket- “ De hole in de fence round dc baseaball : ‘ her husband?" He~“0h, no, only her , Pat—“ Becaze, Lawyer—“I must know the wholo~ sage, “ there’s not so great a difference between me and a. dude.” “No?” sold. the grocery loafer. “ No. He wears his," wouldn’t have any standing at am,» said Hubert. “ Nonsense! ” said his aunt... it." “ I am,” said Hubert. .“ How could than for one who has been accustomed .. ' ‘ , v « r .- ., v . . e r v. - s . l a w m“. .WM. Wmawh-pl. “as” .m www.mWa-‘nwww ..