His figure's not noted for grace;
You may not much care for his face;
But a twenty-yard dash,
When he hears the word "hash,"
He can take at a wonderful pace.


DE GRADUAL COMMENCE

BY WALLACE BRUCE AMSBARY

Oui, Oui, M'sieu, I'm mos' happee,
My ches' wid proud expan',
I feel de bes' I evere feel,
An' over all dis lan'
Dere's none set op so moch as me;
You'll know w'en I am say
My leddle daughter Madeline
Is gradual to-day.
She is de ver' mos' smartes' gairl
Dat I am evere know,
I'm fin' dis out, de teacher, he
Is tol' me dat is so;
She is so smart dat she say t'ings
I am no understan',
She is know more dan any one
Dat leeve on ol' Ste. Anne.
De Gradual Commence is hol'
Down at de gr'ad beeg hall,
W'ere plaintee peopl' can gat seat
For dem to see it all.
De School Board wid dere president,
Dey sit opon front row,
Dey look so stiff an' dignify,
For w'at I am not know.
De classe dat mak' de "gradual"
Dey're on de stage, you see,
In semi-cirque dat face de peop',
Some scare as dey can be;
Den wan of dem dey all mak' spe'k,
Affer de nodder's t'roo,
Dis tak' dem 'bout t'ree hour an' half
De hull t'ing for to do.
Ma Madeline she is all feex op,
Mos' beautiful to see,
In nice w'ite drass, my wife he buy
Overe to Kankakee.
An' when she rise to mak' de spe'k
How smart she look on face,
Dey all expec' somet'ing dey hear,
Dere's hush fall on de place.
She tell us how to mak' de leeve,
How raise beeg familee;
She tell it all so smood an' plain
Dat you can't help but see;
An' how she learn her all of dat
Ees more dan I can say,
But she is know it, for she talk
In smartes' kind of way.
W'en all is t'roo de president
De sheepskin he geeve 'way;
Dey're all nice print opon dem,
An' dis is w'at dey say:
"To dem dat is concern' wid dese
Presents you onderstan'
De h'owner dese; is gradual
At High School on Ste. Anne."
An' now dat she is gradual
She ees know all about
De world an' how to mak' it run
From inside to de out;
For dis is one de primere t'ings
W'at she is learn, you see,
Dat long beeg word I can pronounce,
It's call philosophee.
An' you can' blame me if I am
Ver' proud an' puff op so,
To hav' a daughter like dis wan
Dat's everyt'ing she know.
No wonder dat I gat beeg head,
My hat's too small, dey say—
Ma leddle daughter Madeline
Is gradual to-day.

ABOU BEN BUTLER

BY JOHN PAUL

Abou, Ben Butler (may his tribe be less!)
Awoke one night from a deep bottledness,
And saw, by the rich radiance of the moon,
Which shone and shimmered like a silver spoon,
A stranger writing on a golden slate
(Exceeding store had Ben of spoons and plate),
And to the stranger in his tent he said:
"Your little game?" The stranger turned his head,
And, with a look made all of innocence,
Replied: "I write the name of Presidents."
"And is mine one?" "Not if this court doth know
Itself," replied the stranger. Ben said, "Oh!"
And "Ah!" but spoke again: "Just name your price
To write me up as one that may be Vice."
The stranger up and vanished. The next night
He came again, and showed a wondrous sight
Of names that haply yet might fill the chair—
But, lo! the name of Butler was not there!

LATTER-DAY WARNINGS

BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

When legislators keep the law,
When banks dispense with bolts and locks,—
When berries—whortle, rasp, and straw—
Grow bigger downwards through the box,—
When he that selleth house or land
Shows leak in roof or flaw in right,—
When haberdashers choose the stand
Whose window hath the broadest light,—
When preachers tell us all they think,
And party leaders all they mean,—
When what we pay for, that we drink,
From real grape and coffee-bean,—
When lawyers take what they would give,
And doctors give what they would take,—
When city fathers eat to live,
Save when they fast for conscience' sake,—
When one that hath a horse on sale
Shall bring his merit to the proof,
Without a lie for every nail
That holds the iron on the hoof,—
When in the usual place for rips
Our gloves are stitched with special care,
And guarded well the whalebone tips
Where first umbrellas need repair,—
When Cuba's weeds have quite forgot
The power of suction to resist,
And claret-bottles harbor not
Such dimples as would hold your fist,—
When publishers no longer steal,
And pay for what they stole before,—
When the first locomotive's wheel
Rolls through the Hoosac tunnel's bore;—
Till then let Cumming blaze away,
And Miller's saints blow up the globe;
But when you see that blessed day,
Then order your ascension robe!

IT PAYS TO BE HAPPY[10]

BY TOM MASSON

She is so gay, so very gay,
And not by fits and starts,
But ever, through each livelong day
She's sunshine to all hearts.
A tonic is her merry laugh!
So wondrous is her power
That listening grief would stop and chaff
With her from hour to hour.
Disease before that cheery smile
Grows dim, begins to fade.
A Christian scientist, meanwhile,
Is this delightful maid.
And who would not throw off dull care
And be like unto her,
When happiness brings, as her share,
One hundred dollars per ——?


JAMES AND REGINALD

BY EUGENE FIELD

Once upon a Time there was a Bad boy whose Name was Reginald and there was a Good boy whose Name was James. Reginald would go Fishing when his Mamma told him Not to, and he Cut off the Cat's Tail with the Bread Knife one Day, and then told Mamma the Baby had Driven it in with the Rolling Pin, which was a Lie. James was always Obedient, and when his Mamma told him not to Help an old Blind Man across the street or Go into a Dark Room where the Boogies were, he always Did What She said. That is why they Called him Good James. Well, by and by, along Came Christmas. Mamma said, You have been so Bad, my son Reginald, you will not Get any Presents from Santa Claus this Year; but you, my son James, will get Oodles of Presents, because you have Been Good. Will you Believe it, Children, that Bad boy Reginald said he didn't Care a Darn and he Kicked three Feet of Veneering off the Piano just for Meanness. Poor James was so sorry for Reginald that he cried for Half an Hour after he Went to Bed that Night. Reginald lay wide Awake until he saw James was Asleep and then he Said if these people think they can Fool me, they are Mistaken. Just then Santa Claus came down the Chimney. He had Lots of Pretty Toys in a Sack on his Back. Reginald shut his Eyes and Pretended to be Asleep. Then Santa Claus Said, Reginald is Bad and I will not Put any nice Things in his Stocking. But as for you, James, I will Fill your Stocking Plum full of Toys, because You are Good. So Santa Claus went to Work and Put, Oh! heaps and Heaps of Goodies in James' stocking, but not a Sign of a Thing in Reginald's stocking. And then he Laughed to himself and Said I guess Reginald will be Sorry to-morrow because he Was so Bad. As he said this he Crawled up the chimney and rode off in his Sleigh. Now you can Bet your Boots Reginald was no Spring Chicken. He just Got right Straight out of Bed and changed all those Toys and Truck from James' stocking into his own. Santa Claus will Have to Sit up all Night, said He, when he Expects to get away with my Baggage. The next morning James got out of Bed and when He had Said his Prayers he Limped over to his Stocking, licking his chops and Carrying his Head as High as a Bull going through a Brush Fence. But when he found there was Nothing in his stocking and that Reginald's Stocking was as Full as Papa Is when he comes home Late from the Office, he Sat down on the Floor and began to Wonder why on Earth he had Been such a Good boy. Reginald spent a Happy Christmas and James was very Miserable. After all, Children, it Pays to be Bad, so Long as you Combine Intellect with Crime.


BANTY TIM

REMARKS OF SERGEANT TILMON JOY TO THE WHITE MAN'S COMMITTEE OF SPUNKY POINT, ILLINOIS

BY JOHN HAY

I reckon I git your drift, gents,—
You 'low the boy sha'n't stay;
This is a white man's country;
You're Dimocrats, you say;
And whereas, and seein', and wherefore,
The times bein' all out o' j'int,
The nigger has got to mosey
From the limits o' Spunky P'int!
Le's reason the thing a minute:
I'm an old-fashioned Dimocrat too,
Though I laid my politics out o' the way
For to keep till the war was through.
But I come back here, allowin'
To vote as I used to do,
Though it gravels me like the devil to train
Along o' sich fools as you.
Now dog my cats ef I kin see,
In all the light of the day,
What you've got to do with the question
Ef Tim shill go or stay.
And furder than that I give notice,
Ef one of you tetches the boy,
He kin check his trunks to a warmer clime
Than he'll find in Illanoy.
Why, blame your hearts, jest hear me!
You know that ungodly day
When our left struck Vicksburg Heights, how ripped
And torn and tattered we lay.
When the rest retreated I stayed behind,
Fur reasons sufficient to me,—
With a rib caved in, and a leg on a strike,
I sprawled on that cursed glacee.
Lord! how the hot sun went for us,
And br'iled and blistered and burned!
How the Rebel bullets whizzed round us
When a cuss in his death-grip turned!
Till along toward dusk I seen a thing
I couldn't believe for a spell:
That nigger—that Tim—was a crawlin' to me
Through that fire-proof, gilt-edged hell!
The Rebels seen him as quick as me,
And the bullets buzzed like bees;
But he jumped for me, and shouldered me,
Though a shot brought him once to his knees;
But he staggered up, and packed me off,
With a dozen stumbles and falls,
Till safe in our lines he drapped us both,
His black hide riddled with balls.
So, my gentle gazelles, thar's my answer,
And here stays Banty Tim:
He trumped Death's ace for me that day,
And I'm not goin' back on him!
You may rezoloot till the cows come home,
But ef one of you tetches the boy,
He'll wrastle his hash to-night in hell,
Or my name's not Tilmon Joy!

EVENING

By A Tailor

BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

Day hath put on his jacket, and around
His burning bosom buttoned it with stars.
Here will I lay me on the velvet grass,
That is like padding to earth's meager ribs,
And hold communion with the things about me.
Ah me! how lovely is the golden braid
That binds the skirt of night's descending robe!
The thin leaves, quivering on their silken threads,
Do make a music like to rustling satin,
As the light breezes smooth their downy nap.
Ha! what is this that rises to my touch,
So like a cushion? Can it be a cabbage?
It is, it is that deeply injured flower,
Which boys do flout us with;—but yet I love thee,
Thou giant rose, wrapped in a green surtout.
Doubtless in Eden thou didst blush as bright
As these, thy puny brethren; and thy breath
Sweetened the fragrance of her spicy air;
But now thou seemest like a bankrupt beau,
Stripped of his gaudy hues and essences,
And growing portly in his sober garments.
Is that a swan that rides upon the water?
O no, it is that other gentle bird,
Which is the patron of our noble calling.
I well remember, in my early years,
When these young hands first closed upon a goose;
I have a scar upon my thimble finger,
Which chronicles the hour of young ambition.
My father was a tailor, and his father,
And my sire's grandsire, all of them were tailors;
They had an ancient goose,—it was an heirloom
From some remoter tailor of our race.
It happened I did see it on a time
When none was near, and I did deal with it,
And it did burn me,—O, most fearfully!
It is a joy to straighten out one's limbs,
And leap elastic from the level counter,
Leaving the petty grievances of earth,
The breaking thread, the din of clashing shears,
And all the needles that do wound the spirit,
For such a pensive hour of soothing silence.
Kind Nature, shuffling in her loose undress,
Lays bare her shady bosom;—I can feel
With all around me;—I can hail the flowers
That sprig earth's mantle,—and yon quiet bird,
That rides the stream, is to me as a brother.
The vulgar know not all the hidden pockets,
Where Nature stows away her loveliness.
But this unnatural posture of the legs
Cramps my extended calves, and I must go
Where I can coil them in their wonted fashion.

THE OLD SETTLER

His Reasons for Thinking there is Natural Gas in Deep Rock Gulley

BY ED. MOTT

"I see by the papers, Squire," said the Old Settler, "that they're a-finding signs o' coal ile an' nat'ral gas like sixty here an' thar in deestric's not so terrible fur from here, an' th't konsekently land they usety beg folks to come an' take offen their hands at any price at all is wuth a dollar now, jist for a peep over the stun wall at it. The minute a feller finds signs o' ile or nat'ral gas on his plantation he needn't lug home his supplies in a quart jug no more, but kin roll 'em in by the bar'l, fer signs o' them kind is wuth more an inch th'n a sartin-per-sure grass an' 'tater farm is wuth an acre."

"Guess yer huggin' the truth pooty clus fer wunst, Major," replied the Squire, "but th' hain't none o' them signs ez likely to strike anywhar in our bailiwick ez lightnin' is to kill a crow roostin' on the North Pole. Thuz one thing I've alluz wanted to see," continued the Squire, "but natur' has ben agin me an' I hain't never seen it, an' that thing is the h'istin' of a balloon. Th' can't be no balloons h'isted nowhar, I'm told, 'nless thuz gas to h'ist it with. I s'pose if we'd ha' had gas here, a good many fellers with balloons 'd ha' kim 'round this way an' showed us a balloon raisin' ev'ry now an' then. Them must be lucky deestric's that's got gas, an' I'd like to hev somebody strike it 'round here some'rs, jist fer the sake o' havin' the chance to see a balloon h'istin' 'fore I turn my toes up. But that's 'bout ez liable to happen ez it is fer to go out an' find a silver dollar rollin' up hill an' my name gouged in it."

"Don't ye be so consarned sure o' that, Squire," said the Old Settler mysteriously, and with a knowing shake of his head. "I've been a-thinkin' a leetle sence readin' 'bout them signs o' gas, b'gosh! I hain't been only thinkin', but I've been a-recollectin', an' the chances is th't me an' you'll see wonders yet afore we paddle over Jurdan. I'm a-gointer tell ye fer w'y, but I hadn't orter, Squire, an' if it wa'n't fer makin' ye 'shamed o' yerself, an' showin' th't truth squashed in the mud is bound to git up agin if ye give her time, I wouldn't do it. Ye mowt remember th't jist ten years ago this month I kim in from a leetle b'ar hunt. I didn't bring in no b'ar, but I fotched back an up-an'-up account o' how I had shot one, on' how th' were sumpin' fearful an' queer an' amazin' in the p'formances o' that b'ar arter bein' shot. Mebby ye 'member me a-tellin' ye that story, Squire, an' you a-tellin' me right in my teeth th't ye know'd th't some o' yer friends had took to lyin', but th't ye didn't think any of 'em had it so bad ez that. But I hain't a-holdin' no gredge, an' now I'll tell ye sumpin' that'll s'prise ye.

"Ez I tol' ye at the time, Squire, I got the tip ten year ago this month, th't unless somebody went up to Steve Groner's hill place an' poured a pound or two o' lead inter a big b'ar th't had squatted on tha' farm, th't Steve wouldn't hev no live-stock left to pervide pork an' beef fer his winterin' over, even if he managed to keep hisself an' fam'ly theirselfs from linin' the b'ar's innards. I shouldered my gun an' went up to Steve's to hev some fun with bruin, an' to save Steve's stock, an' resky him an' his folks from the rampagin' b'ar.

"'He's a rip-snorter,' Steve says to me, w'en I got thar. 'He don't think nuthin' o' luggin' off a cow,' he says, 'an' ye don't wanter hev yer weather eye shet w'en you an' him comes together,' he says.

"'B'ars,' I says to Steve, 'b'ars is nuts fer me, an' the bigger an' sassier they be,' I says, 'the more I inj'y 'em,' I says, an' with that I clim' inter the woods to show bruin th't th' wa'n't room enough here below fer me an' him both. Tain't necessary fer me to tell o' the half-dozen or more lively skrimmages me an' that b'ar had ez we follered an' chased one another round an' round them woods—how he'd hide ahind some big tree or stumps, an' ez I went by, climb on to me with all four o' his feet an' yank an' bite an' claw an' dig meat an' clothes offen me till I slung him off an' made him skin away to save his bacon; an' how I'd lay the same way fer him, an' w'en he come sneakin' 'long arter me agin, pitch arter him like a mad painter, an' swat an' pound an' choke an' rassel him till his tongue hung out, till I were sorry for him, an' let him git away inter the brush agin to recooperate fer the next round. 'Tain't wuth w'ile fer me to say anything 'bout them little skrimmages 'cept the last un, an' that un wa'n't a skrimmage but sumpin' that'd 'a' skeert some folks dead in their tracks.

"Arter havin' a half-dozen or so o' rassels with this big b'ar, jist fer fun, I made up my mind, ez 'twere gettin' late, an' ez Steve Groner's folks was mebby feelin' anxious to hear which was gointer run the farm, them or the b'ar, th't the next heat with bruin would be for keeps. I guess the ol' feller had made up his mind the same way, fer w'en I run agin him the las' time, he were riz up on his hind legs right on the edge o' Deep Rock Gulley, and were waitin' fer me with his jaws wide open. I unslung my gun, an' takin' aim at one o' the b'ar's forepaws, thought I'd wing him an' make him come away from the edge o' the gulley 'fore I tackled him. The ball hit the paw, an' the b'ar throw'd 'em both up. But he throw'd 'em up too fur, an' he fell over back'rd, an' went head foremost inter the gulley. Deep Rock Gulley ain't an inch less'n fifty foot from top to bottom, an' the walls is ez steep ez the side of a house. I went up to the edge an' looked over. Ther' were the b'ar layin' on his face at the bottom, whar them queer cracks is in the ground, an' he were a-howlin' like a hurricane and kickin' like a mule. Ther' he laid, and he wa'n't able to rise up. Th' wa'n't no way o' gettin' down to him 'cept by tumblin' down ez he had, an' if ever anybody were poppin' mad I were, ez I see my meat a-layin' at the bottom o' that gulley, an' the crows a-getherin' to hev a picnic with it. The more I kept my eyes on that b'ar the madder I got, an' I were jist about to roll and tumble an' slide down the side o' that gulley ruther than go back home an' say th't I'd let the crows steal a b'ar away from me, w'en I see a funny change comin' over the b'ar. He didn't howl so much, and his kicks wa'n't so vicious. Then his hind parts began to lift themse'fs up offen the ground in a cur'ous sort o' way, and swung an' bobbed in the air. They kep' raisin' higher an' higher, till the b'ar were act'ally standin' on his head, an' swayin' to and fro ez if a wind were blowin' him an' he couldn't help it. The sight was so oncommon out o' the reg'lar way b'ars has o' actin' that it seemed skeery, an' I felt ez if I'd ruther be home diggin' my 'taters. But I kep' on gazin' at the b'ar a-circusin' at the bottom o' the gulley, an 't wa'n't long 'fore the hull big carcase begun to raise right up offen the ground an' come a-floatin' up outen the gulley, fer all the world ez if 't wa'n't more'n a feather. The b'ar come up'ards tail foremost, an' I noticed th't he looked consid'able puffed out like, makin' him seem lik' a bar'l sailin' in the air. Ez the b'ar kim a-floatin' out o' the dep's I could feel my eyes begin to bulge, an' my knees to shake like a jumpin' jack's. But I couldn't move no more'n a stun wall kin, an' thar I stood on the edge o' the gulley, starin' at the b'ar ez it sailed on up to'rd me. The b'ar were making a desper't effort to git itself back to its nat'ral p'sition on all fours, but th' wa'n't no use, an' up he sailed, tail foremost, an' lookin' ez if he were gointer bust the next minute, he were swelled out so. Ez the b'ar bobbed up and passed by me I could ha' reached out an' grabbed him by the paw, an' I think he wanted me to, the way he acted, but I couldn't ha' made a move to stop him, not if he'd ha' ben my gran'mother. The b'ar sailed on above me, an' th' were a look in his eyes th't I won't never fergit. It was a skeert look, an' a look that seemed to say th't it were all my fault, an' th't I'd be sorry fer it some time. The b'ar squirmed an' struggled agin comin' to setch an' onheerdon end, but up'ard he went, tail foremost, to'ard the clouds.

"I stood thar par'lyzed w'ile the b'ar went up'ard. The crows that had been settlin' round in the trees, 'spectin' to hev a bully meal, went to flyin' an' scootin' around the onfortnit b'ar, an' yelled till I were durn nigh deef. It wa'n't until the b'ar had floated up nigh onto a hundred yards in the air, an' begun to look like a flyin' cub, that my senses kim back to me. Quick ez a flash I rammed a load inter my rifle, wrappin' the ball with a big piece o' dry linen, not havin' time to tear it to the right size. Then I took aim an' let her go. Fast ez the ball went, I could see that the linen round it had been sot on fire by the powder. The ball overtook the b'ar and bored a hole in his side. Then the funniest thing of all happened. A streak o' fire a yard long shot out o' the b'ar's side where the bullet had gone in, an' ez long ez that poor bewitched b'ar were in sight—fer o' course I thort at the time th't the b'ar were bewitched—I could see that streak o' fire sailin' along in the sky till it went out at last like a shootin' star. I never knowed w'at become o' the b'ar, an' the hull thing were a startlin' myst'ry to me, but I kim home, Squire, an' tol' ye the story, jest ez I've tol' ye now, an' ye were so durn polite th't ye said I were a liar. But sence, I've been a-thinkin' an' recollectin'. Squire, I don't hold no gredge. The myst'ry's plain ez day, now. We don't want no better signs o' gas th'n th't, do we, Squire?"

"Than what?" said the Squire.

"Than what!" exclaimed the Old Settler. "Than that b'ar, o' course! That's w'at ailed him. It's plain enough th't thuz nat'ral gas on the Groner place, an' th't it leaks outen the ground in Deep Rock Gulley. Wen that b'ar tumbled to the bottom that day, he fell on his face. He were hurt so th't he couldn't get up. O' course the gas didn't shut itself off, but kep' on a-leakin' an' shot up inter the b'ar's mouth and down his throat. The onfortnit b'ar couldn't help hisself, an' bimby he were filled with gas like a balloon, till he had to float, an' away he sailed, up an' up an' up. Wen I fired at the b'ar, ez he was floatin' to'ard the clouds, the linen on the bullet carried fire with it, an' w'en the bullet tapped the b'ar's side the burnin' linen sot it on fire, showin' th't th' can't be no doubt 'bout it bein' gas th't the b'ar swallered in Deep Rock Gulley. So ye see, Squire, I wa'n't no liar, an' the chances is all in favor o' your seein' a balloon h'isted from gas right in yer own bailiwick afore ye turn up yer toes."

The Squire gazed at the Old Settler in silent amazement for a minute or more. Then he threw up his hands and said:

"Wal—I'll—be—durned!"


VERRE DEFINITE

BY WALLACE BRUCE AMSBARY

It' verre long, long tam', ma frien',
I'm leeve on Bourbonnais,
I'm keep de gen'rale merchandise,
I'm prom'nent man, dey say;
I'm sell mos' every t'ing dere ees,
From sulky plow to sock,
I don' care w'at you ask me for,
You'll fin' it in my stock.
Las' w'ek dere was de petite fille
Of ma frien', Gosse, he com'
Into ma shop to get stocking,
She want to buy her som';
She was herself not verre ol',
Near twelve year, I suppose;
She com' to me an' say, "M'sieu,
I wan' to buy som' hose."
I always mak' de custom rule,
No matter who it ees,
To be polite an' eloquent
In transack of ma beez;
I say to her, "For who you wan'
Dese stockings to be wear?"
She say she need wan pair herself,
Also for small bruddére.
She say her bruddére's eight years ol'
An' coming almos' nine,
An' I am twelve, mos' near t'irteen,
Dat size will do for mine:
An' modder she will tak' beeg pair,
She weigh 'bout half a ton,
She wan' de size of forty year
Going on forty-one.

THE TALKING HORSE

BY JOHN T. McINTYRE

Upon a fence across the way was posted a "twenty-four sheet block stand," and along the top, in big red letters, it read:

"H. Wellington Sheldon Presents"

Then followed the names of a half dozen famous operatic stars.

Bat Scranton sat regarding it silently for a long time; but after he had placed himself behind his third big cigar he joined in the talk.

"In fifteen years dubbing about this great and glorious," said he, "I never run across a smoother piece of goods than old Cap. Sheldon. To see him, now, in his plug hat, frock coat and white English whiskers, you'd spot him as the main squeeze in a prosperous bank. He's doing the Frohman stunt, too," and Bat nodded toward the poster, "and he handles it with exceeding grace. When I see him after the curtain falls upon a bunch of Verdi or Wagner stuff, come out and bow his thanks to a house full of the town's swellest, and throw out a little spiel with an aristocratic accent, I always think of the time when I first met him.

"Were any of you ever in Langtry, Ohio? Well, never take a chance on it if there is anywhere else to go. It's a tank town with a community of seven hundred of the tightest wads that ever sunk a dollar into the toe of a sock. There was a fair going on in the place, and I blew in there one September day; my turn just then was taking orders for crayon portraits of rural gentlemen with horny hands and plenty of chin fringe. I figure it out that about sixty per cent. of the parlors in the middle west are adorned with one or more of these works of art, but Langtry, Ohio, would not listen to the proposition for a moment; as soon as they discovered that I wasn't giving the stuff away they sort of lost interest in me and mine; so I began to study the time-table and kick off the preliminary dust of the burg, preparatory to seeking a new base of operations.

"As I made my way to the station I caught my first glimpse of Cap. Sheldon. He had a satchel hanging from around his neck and was winsomely wrapping ten dollar notes up with small cylinders of soap and offering to sell them at one dollar a throw.

"'How are they going,' says I.

"'Not at all,' says he. 'There's nothing to it that I can see. The breed and seed of Solomon himself must have camped down in this section; they are the wisest lot I ever saw herd together. Instead of chewing straws and leaning over fences after the customary and natural manner of ruminates, they pike around with a calm, cold-blooded sagacity that is truly awesome. It's me to pull out as soon as I can draw expenses.'

"The next time Cap. dawned upon my vision was a year afterward, down in Georgia. He was doing the ballyho oration in front of a side wall circus in a mellifluous style that was just dragging the tar heels up to the entrance.

"'It's a little better than the Ohio gag,' says he, 'but I've seen better, at that. I had a good paying faro outfit in Cincinnati since I met you, but the police got sore because I wouldn't cut the takings in what they considered the right place, so they closed me up.'

"During the next five years I met Cap. in every section of the country, and handling various propositions. In San Francisco I caught him in the act of selling toy balloons on a street corner; in Chicago he was disposing of old line life insurance with considerable effect; at a county fair, somewhere in Iowa, I ran across him as he gracefully manipulated the shells.

"But Cap. did not break permanently into the show business until he coupled up with the McClintock in Milwaukee. Mac was an Irish Presbyterian, and was proud of it; he came out of the Black North and was the most acute harp, mentally, that I had ever had anything to do with. The Chosen People are not noted for commercial density; but a Jew could enter Mac's presence attired in the height of fashion and leave it with only his shoe strings and a hazy recollection as to how the thing was done.

"Now, when a team like Cap. and Mac took to pulling together, there just naturally had to be something doing. They began with a small show under canvas, and their main card was a twenty-foot boa-constrictor, which they billed as 'Mighty Mardo.' Then they had a boy with three legs, one of which they neglected to state was made of wood; also a blushing damsel with excess embonpoint to the extent of four hundred pounds. With this outfit they campaigned for one season; in the fall they bought a museum in St. Louis and settled themselves as impresarios.

"Now, in my numerous meetings with Cap. I had never thought to ask his name, so when I saw an 'ad' in the Clipper stating that Sheldon & McClintock was in need of a good full-toned lecturer that doubled in brass, I just sat me down in my ignorance and dropped them a line. They sent me a ticket to where I was sidetracked up in Michigan, and I hurried down.

"'Oh, it's you, is it?' says Cap., as I piked into the ten by twelve office and announced myself. 'Well, I've heard you throw a spiel and think you'll do. But I didn't know that you played brass. What's your instrument?'

"Now, I had a faint sentiment from the beginning that this clause in their bill of requirements would get me into trouble, for I knew no more about band music than a he goat knows about the book of common prayer.

"'I do the cymbals,' says I.

"'What!' snorts Cap., rearing up; 'I thought you wrote that you played brass?'

"'Well,' says I, 'ain't cymbals brass?'

"It must have been my cold nerve that won Cap.'s regard, for he placed me as 'curio hall' lecturer and advertising man at twenty a week.

"The museum of Sheldon & McClintock proved to be a great notch. More fake freaks were thought out, worked up and exhibited during the course of that winter season than I would care to count. Then there was a small theater attached in which they put on very bad specialties and where painful-voiced young men and women warbled sentimental ballads about their childhood homes and stuff of that character. These got about ten dollars a week and had to do about thirty turns a day; they lived in their make-up and got so accustomed to grease paint before the end of their engagements that they felt only half dressed without it.

"The trick made money, and in about a year McClintock cut loose and went into a patent promoting scheme.

"Shortly afterward the first 'continuous house' was opened in St. Louis, and the novelty of the thing was a body blow to Cap. He made a good fight, but lost money every day; and at last he imparted to me in confidence that if business did not improve he could see himself getting out the shells and limbering up on them preparatory to going out and facing the world once more.

"'The bank will stand for three hundred thousand dollars' worth more of my checks,' says he, 'and after they're used up I'm done.'

"He began to cut down expenses with the reckless energy of a man who saw the poor-house looming ahead for him; the results was that his bad shows grew worse, and the attendance wasn't enough to dust off the seats. The biggest item of expense about the place was 'Mighty Mardo,' the boa-constrictor; his diet was live rabbits, and a twenty-foot snake with a body as thick as a four-inch pipe can dispose of good and plenty of them when he takes the notion. Cap. began to feed him live rats, and the mighty one soon began to show the effects of it.

"'He'll die on you,' says I to Cap. one day.

"'Let him,' says he; 'the rabbits stay cut out.'

"One day a fellow came along with a high-schooled horse that he wanted to sell. He had more use for ready money just then than he had for the nag, so he offered to put it in cheap. But Cap. waved him away.

"'I'll need the money to buy meals with before long,' says he to the fellow, 'so tempt me not to my going hungry.'

"This little incident seemed to make the old man feel bad; he locked himself up in the office for four hours or so communing with his inner self; but when he came out he was looking bright and gay.

"'Say,' says he, 'I've changed my mind and just bought that horse.'

"'I didn't see the man come back,' says I.

"'I made the deal over the 'phone,' says Cap. Then he pushes a thick wad of penciled stuff at me. 'Here's some truck I want you to take over to the printing house,' he goes on. 'When it's out and up the brute will be well known.'

"I takes a look over the copy, and my hat was lifted two inches straight off my head. The first one read something like this:

ADMIRAL

THE TALKING HORSE

TALKS LIKE A HUMAN BEING
VOCAL ORGANS DEVELOPED LIKE THOSE OF
A MAN
HEAR HIM SING THE BASS SOLO
"DOWN IN THE DEPTHS"

TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS

TO ANY ONE PROVING THESE CLAIMS
FAKE IN THE SLIGHTEST DEGREE

"'Reads good, don't it?' asks Cap., sort of beaming through his nose-pinzes. 'But give a look at the others.'

"The next one was as bad as the first:

ADMIRAL!!!

THE HORSE WHO RECITES
THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE
IN A DEEP BASS VOICE
AND WITH PERFECT ENUNCIATION

"'I didn't hear the fellow say the skate could do that kind of stuff,' says I, just a bit dazed, after looking over a lot more of it.

"'He only handed it to me as a sort of last card,' says Cap., 'and that's what made me change my mind about buying him. Get five thousand twelve sheets in yellow and red; ten thousand three sheets; fifteen thousand block one sheets with cut of the horse. And you can place an order for as many black and white dodgers as they can turn out between this and the end of the week. It's a big card and we're going into it up to our eyebrows.'

"If I had had time to consider anything but hustling, I might have thought the thing was a fake. But it was the old man's game and I left him to do the worrying. I threw rush orders into the printers and soon had the presses banging away on the stuff desired.

"Next day Cap. started a four-inch double-column notice in every paper in town. I hired an army of distributers and began to put out the dodgers as they came hot off the bat; then I got a couple of Guinea bands, put them in open wagons, done up with painted muslin announcements, and sent them forth to tear off the melody and otherwise delight the eye and ear of the town. As the big stuff came off the press it was slapped up on every blank wall and fence in the city that wasn't under guard; and when the job was finished, St. Louis fairly glared with it. If there was a person who hadn't heard of the Talking Horse by the end of the week, they must have been deaf, dead or in jail.

"The nag was to make his first appearance on Monday, and the last sheet of paper had been put up and the last hand bill disposed of by Saturday afternoon.

"'How does she look?' says Cap. to me when I came in.

"'Great,' says I. 'If they ain't tearing the place down to get in on Monday, why my bump of prophecy has a dent in it.'

"'Let 'em come,' says Cap., looking very much tickled. 'We need the money and we ain't turning nobody away. The horse has reached town and will be brought around to-morrow morning; so you make it a point to be on hand to let it and the handler in.'

"I was around bright and early on Sunday morning, and along comes the horse. He was got up in the swellest horse stuff I ever saw—beaded blankets of plush and silk, with his name embroidered on them, and all that kind of goods. The handler was a husky with one lamp and a bad one at that.

"'Where do I put him?' says he.

"'On the top floor,' says I. 'We've got planks on the stairs and a rigging fixed to haul him up by.'

"When we got him safely landed and the glad coverings off, I looked him over.

"'His intellect must sort of tell on him, don't it?' asks I.

"'Why, he is some under weight,' says the fellow in charge.

"'He don't look over-bright to me,' I goes on.

"'He never does on Sundays,' the husky comes back. 'It's sort of an off day with him.'

"Then I went out to lunch and stayed about two hours; when I got back I found a gang of cops and things buzzing all over the place. Cap. was in the office, his plug hat on the back of his head and a cigar in his mouth.

"'What's the trouble?' says I.

"'Had a hell of a time around here,' says he. 'I was called up on the 'phone and got down as soon as I could. Just take an observation of that fellow over there.'

"The fellow referred to was the handler of the Talking Horse. His left arm was done up in splints and bandaged from finger-tips to shoulder, and he had a clump of reporters around him about six feet thick.

"'What hit him?' asks I.

"'About everything on the top floor,' says Cap., solemnly. 'The Talking Horse is dead. Mighty Mardo broke out of his showcase about an hour ago, took a couple of half hitches around the Admiral and crushed him to death.'

"'Go 'way!' says I.

"'Sure thing,' says Cap. 'Come up stairs and have a look.'

"We went up and did so. The place was a wreck; the horse was the deadest I ever saw and the constrictor was still twined about him.

"'Why, the snake's passed out, too,' says I.

"Cap. folds his hands meekly across his breast in a resigned sort of way.

"'Yes,' says he; 'he, too, was killed in the dreadful struggle. He must have went straight for the Admiral as soon as he got loose. The handler was down in the office, alone, when the uproar started; he came jumping upstairs six steps to the jump and when he sees Mardo putting in that bunch of body holds on his intelligent charge, why, he took a hand. The result was a dead snake for me and a crippled wing for him. When I got here, Doc. Forbes was tying him up,' Cap. goes on rather sorrowful like; 'and when I sees what's happened, I know that I'm a ruined man. So I 'phones for the police and reporters to come down and view my finish.'

"From the way he talked I expected to see him carted home before the hour was up; but he wasn't. As soon as the newspaper fellows cleared out with all the facts of the case in their note-books, Cap. sends for a fellow and puts him right to work fixing up the horse and snake so's they'll keep, and then lays them out.

"Next morning the newspapers slopped over with scare headlines telling of the battle. According to their way of looking at it, the struggles in the arena of old Rome were scared to death in comparison, and modern times did not come anywhere near showing a parallel of the combat between the terrible constrictor and the horse with the human voice. The result of this was that when the time came to open the doors at noon we had to have a squad of police to keep the mob from blocking traffic for squares around. Cap. had changed and doubled the size of his ads. over night.

"The horse was done up in a big black coffin covered with flowers; and the lid with his name, age and wonderful accomplishment engraved upon a plate stood beside him. The remains of Mighty Mardo, stuffed with baled hay and excelsior, were embracing the dead Admiral with monster coils; and the crowds came, gazed, and marveled; then they went forth to tell their friends that they might come and do likewise.

"For weeks the coin came into the box like a spring freshet in the hill country, and Cap. must have kept the bank working after hours; at any rate, he sat around and smoked with a smile so angelic, that, to look at him, one wondered how he could wear it and not drift away into the ethereal blue. It was a good month before the thing lost its pulling power, and when it stopped Cap. had planted the stake that boosted him into the company he now keeps and set him to handling voices that cost thousands of simoleons an hour.

"When all was over, I found time to take the husky, with the damaged fin out and throw a few drinks into him. Then he told me the whole story.

"'The old man didn't think you could do the thing justice if you were wise,' says he, 'so he kept you out. This ain't the horse the fellow offered to sell him, at all. He bought it at a bazar for ten dollars, the day before I brought it around. When you went out for lunch Cap. he comes in. We done for the plug in a minute, and as Mighty Marda was all but gone, on account of his rat diet, we finished him, too. Then we wrecked the place up some, took a couple of turns about the horse with Mardo, called in Doc. Forbes, who stood in, to fix up the fictitious fracture, and then rung in the show.'

"Yes," observed Bat, thoughtfully, after a pause, "I've made up my mind that H. Wellington Sheldon is a wise plug."


THE OWL-CRITIC

BY JAMES T. FIELDS