Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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PAGE 2 BARNWELL SENTINEL, BARNWEIA, S. C. / ' 1) ’ / BEnmi!iuini!!n!!:!i:u» By VICTOR ROUSSEAU jiiiiiaiDiiwya ■«...1. «—Jh ■jr lie li CHAPTER S' XXI—Contnued. i . —16— .‘‘I wont to New York to pot rnv share. Hwrfsn’t going to be ousted, I, igiio bad Immii olio of tho discoverers. I don’t know how much Carson paid Louis, but I mount to domnnd half. I thought ho hud tho monoy In his pocket. ' ■ , “I followed, him idl^thut afternoon after lie hud- loft Carson’s office. I watched him In tho street. At night he went to u room somewhere—at,the top of a tall building. I followed him. When I pot (n I found a woman there. Louis was talking tq lior and threaten- Inp h-er. . He,said site was ids wife. How could sluf.be his wife when he had married Jacqueline iHiehnlno? "I didn’t, care—It was no buslnesfc of ndtie. I couldn't see them, because there was a curtain in the way. There was no light In the bedroom. There was a light In the room In which I was. I put It out, so ttint neither of them should see my fufe. She might have betrayed me, you know, Simon. "He spun round when the light went out. and pushed tin* curtain aside.. I was waiting for that. I hud calculated my blow, f -stat>bed him. It was a good blow, though It was delivered In the dark, lie only cried out once; ltut the woman screamed, and a dog Hew at me, and I couldn’t find his money. ~So T rnrv nwriy: 7 “And then there were only three of tis who knew the secret. Then Simon died and there were only two, and now there are Only Hewlett and 4, and he is dead, poor fool, and I have my gold here. For (Sod's sake give me a knffe, HImon !" Ills lingers tore nt my sleeve In his last agony, and I was tempted sorely. And It was Ids own knife that I had. The Irony of It I He muttered once or twice and tried out In fear of the man whom he had •lain. I heard him gasp a little later. Then the hand fell from my sleeve. And after that there was no further sound. • • • • • ' • “Paul!" It was the merest whisper from the wall. I thought It was a trick of lay. own mind. I dared not hope. "Paul! nearest!" This was no fancy horn of a de lirious brain and the thick fumes of dynamite. It caine from the wall a little way ahead of me. I crawled the three feet that the little cave afforded and put my hands upon the rock, feel ing Its surfnee Inch by Inch. There was n crevice there, not large enough to hnve permitted a bird to pass—the- merest fissure. “Jacqueline! Is that you, dear?" I called. “You lire not htlft, Jacqueline?” "I am lying where you left me. dear. Taul. I—f heard.” “You heard?" I answered dully. What did It matter now? “Why didn’t you tell me, Paul? Hut never mind. I am so glad, dearest ! jCan you come through to me?" . I struggled to tour the rocks away: I boat and bruised my hands in vain against them. "I will come when It grows light, Jacqueline." I baliblcd. "When if grows light !" She did not know that it would never grow light for me. Again I thing my-' self against the walls of my prison^ bartering at .them till the blood dripped —from my h .Tints. "Again and again 1 flung myself down hopelessly, and then I tried again, clutching at every fragment that protruded into the cave. And nt last, when my despair bad mastered me—tt grew light. For a sunbeam shot like a fingci- - through the crevice and quivered "upon the floor of the cave. And overhead. 0 where I had never thought~to seek*, where I had thought three hundred feet of eternal rock pressed dowiimn me, I saw the quiver of day through half a dozen feet of tight packed debris from the glacier’s iuoi .1). I raised myself ard tore at it and sent it flying. I tb:ust inv hands among the stones and tore them down like the tiles-from a rotten roof. I heard a shout; hands were reached down to me and pulled me up, and I was on my feet upon a hillside, look ing Into the keen eyes of 1‘ere Antoine and the face of the Indian squaw. And the Eskimo dog was barking at my side. Only one thing marred the happi ness of our reunion, and that was the loss of Jacqueline's father. We bad talked much over what had happened, and ten days later, when Jacqueline had recovered from the shock and from whut proved to be. OoLunahi. W. Q Chapman chnimv. The whole aspect of the re gion liad heen changed; there, was neither glacier nor Cutanuit, and, the lake, swollen to twice its size and height, slept peacefully beneath its covering of.lee and snow. • * * * —- '» -• * When wo returned to the cabin we were amazed to see a sleigh semiring outside, and dogs feeding. ' Two mbn were .seated at the priest’s /table, smoking. “Iliable, monslenr, don’t you - ' keep r f - a stove ln-your house?" shouted a well- known Voice to I'ere Antoine. Then, <t as Jacqueline and I ^approached .the entrance, the man turned and sprang toward us with outstretched hands that gripped ours and wrung them till we cried out. In pnlii. * It was Alfred Dubois. • Hilt I was stupefied to see the sec ond man, who rose and advanced .to ward me with a shrewd smile. For It was Tom i'arson ! Presently I was* telling my — exceilt for that part which more In timately concerned iilJSi'lf and Jacque- now, wanted to- sell me the biggest gold mine in the world for fifty thou sand dollars^juid from what I know of Leroux I alif ready to believe that he would t ry to hog-ft if it really exists," "lint hmv about Ler’oux?"\l'Cried, more: Am used now than vexed. .“That," answered Tom, "Is pre cisely why I want to get hold of you again, Mr. .Hewlett.’* ,-' ' „ “Hut here' is Mile. Duchnine!’’ shouted the old priest in despair. Tom (’arson raised his fat old body* about five Inches and made Jacqueline what he took to be a bow. I'leased to make your acquaint t Ihe KITCAffi "VS her. one In in a po.ol of trouble, th«re h nn possible sebd In splivah- Injv other people."—Hu*l*y. *■ . >'* — ' THRIFT IN LITTLE THING>. It Is lQ_Jh(> little things nnd stnnJJ ^wastes, that multiplied,, by hundreds, make the great wastes In many homes. Example speaks louder than words, so If the house mother wishes to train maids, or children to be thrifty, she must first be thrifty herself. It takes but a .moment’s thought -To turn olT the fight ’ when leaving a room, even for a short “ thn: and the turning off of the gas from the range before re moving a dish, should become second lmt.lt. How many women"leave the soap floating In the dishwater while wash ing the dishes Instead of using the lit tle economical snap shaker which holds even the tiny bits? TTitT sank* liablt mice, miss," he replied. “Ah/well'.*It i 1h notI " ht ‘ M doing any cleaning doesn’t matter. I guess .that than, d’Epernay, was lying to me. However, I am ready to look at your gold mine if you want me to.” “You’ll have to do some blasting then," 1 *said, nettled. “It’s Just about two hundred feet below the ground." "Never mind," said Torn. - “Lumber js better than gold. Next time I’tn here I shall be glad to have another look round. Ami now, Hewlett, if you want a Job at five thousand a year to stnrt—to start, mind you, you play fair and tell me where Leroux Is hiding Himself.” I was too mortified to answer him. about the home, soap flouting In the scrubbing pall, instead of resting In a dish where it cun be easily reached when Heeded. ' 4 tana and all crockery Is so costly now that we must of necessity tuke care of the household supply. When washing dishes they are "often nicked or broken by striking the handles of the pun; turn the pan sq that the bundles ure In front or 11 little at the side, out of range when handling the dishes. Looking Toward Coppal Lake. o XE would not. of course, de scribe the Kerry roads us "good.” There still exist mo torists who visit a district not for the sake of rushing through It as Hut I felt Jacqueline slip her hand into ; llU „" Us '.'* ^" r oDe ' mine, and suddenly the memory of the * sll, ‘ 1 11 t * rn * t se triplicate dishes on one burner fast as possible—they do not welcome to shvh gas; the heat ut ihe-bttrner postlvelv bad roads, but, given roads will conk three things In nearly the which can be driven over, they are less ~ "keen on the g**odn**ss of the roads than past hmde Tom's raillery an inslgnifl- cant affair. t “Mind you." he pursued, “he’ll .turn up s«*on. He's got to .turn up, hern use and "a penny eumcii" jtfnverloc--so. known that It Is trite to mention them, yet we need to constantly remind our selves that a nlekle Is the Interest on a dollar for a year, and 't Is not parsl- ss of the views seen 1 bere t-ms. the goodm frunn temperament of our party, says a writer In Country Life. Some one had said: "If you don't Mo* the cithst But the hogs, to the eyes of a stranger, looked bleak, one must confess Every mile of the way beyond Klllorg- liti we had not been out of sight of those sombre brown scars which mark where the apparently exhaust less ptXft is being cut; and now, between Cahits civeen und Watervllle these pent ex cavations were almost continuous. Be hind the hogs rose long, empty hills, grey with bowlders or tinted here qml the lumber company’s all organized . I now and In line running oTd.-r. What > lW '* • * ' ""* The Eskimo Dog Was Barking at My Side. line, and the narrative of the murder, which I gave only as Lacroix hud con fess* 5 )! It to me. A look of incredulity deepened on Tom’s shrewd old face Hll, nt the end, he hurst out explosively at me: “Hewlett,'I didn’t think I was a d— fool before—I l(eg your* pardon, miss. If any man had told me that I wo^ld have knocked him down. Hut I am. I am, and I want you to be wy mana ger.” “I)o you mean that I have lied to you?" I asked Indigantly. “Every word, Hewlett—every woni, ■ my son. That Is why I want > >11 back with me. 'First you leave my employ ment w ithout offering mw reason; then you take hold of ts.v business af fairs and try to pull off leal over my head, and then you ,q| me'a yarn -Jrtmnt nr Into n-lake." “Hut, iSt. Carson.” Interposed the priest, “I n.yself have seen this cha teau mnnv times. And I have gone to the on*.a nee and looked from the mount in, too, and It is no longer tinr. ’ “Never was,” said Carson! “You fedows" get so lonesome up in these w ilds that you. hnve to see things. This man, d’Epernay, who is said to be dead do you say, Hewlett?" “Nothing," I answered. “All right." h* r said. turning away with a shrug of Ids shoulders. "I'n- practical ns ever, ain’t you? Think It over, my son. Clad to-have met you, Mr. Priest, and us I’m always busy I guess Dubois nnd I will start for homo ., this afternoon ” "Messieurs,” said the priest, ‘Mo you know what day this is?" Tom started. "Why, good Lord, It —It’s Christinas day. Isn’t It?" ho asked, a little sheepishly. “It’s a bigger day for us," I said to Tom. He squinted at me In his shrewd manner; and then he got up from the table and w rung my hand. "Good tuck to you both,” he sa'- 1 . “Say. Mr. Dubois, I guess we -an 1 piteh our tent here tonight don't you?" Alfred Dubois was grappling 1 with our hands again; but b»« onset was less ferocious, been use be hud to loose us every now ami then to slap me on the back aud blow Ids nose. “If only la felite Madeleine could be here!” he dioutyd. And I am sure tliut was hi* dinner voice I heurd. .^LTHEEND.] to lu* proud In these days of costly living. • If making ginger bread, add n cup ful of cold Coffee instead of the boil ing water; save the coffee and improve the cake. Cold cotTee may he used in epiec Cake, in place *of milk; thickened with go] 11 tine and served with cream it makes a dainty dessert. A small hit of butter, ton sun.II t>* seem of use may he saved ami when six small bits are added, one will have enough butter to season a dish «if veg etables. “Let nothing be wasted." Is a tine motto to .have framed in our kitchens. •• Announced bjr nil the trumpets ofl the sky. Chinese Fond of Fireworks. C 11a Invented gunpowder and pop- pi .nzed firecrackers. The cheapest .vind of firecracker is made of gunpow der, rolled up in coarse bamboo paper with ft covering of red paper, red be ing regarded by.the Chinese as bring ing good luck. Alum is used to ueu* iralUe the smoke. The Canton dis- lrift is the center of tiiis industry. The .Chinese seeiti to use firecrackers upon every occasion—to speed a parting •and driving o’er to nllght; tt® woods, and the Arrives the snow. the fields. Seems nowhere whited air Hides hills and heaven. An ! ells the firm house at the gar,1, n s « nd —Ralph Witldo Emerson. \ GOOD THINGS FOR THE FAMILY TABLE. When n dish Is both good and eco nomical It is bound to be popular. Liver Pie.—Cut calves’ liver into strips using there with the purple m hell heatlnsr. For some miles now we had heett out of sight of the sea; hut. descending route from Killorglin thromrh Cahlrcl-! a (dnpe we caiue In view of It again, veen and Watervlfle to Harknasilln and of th*‘ Jolly little town of Water- yofl wTinuT-s'TTie tn •|1'» > - | lOh. land—perhaps In the Brtthdi Isles;" .so 1 keUlgs Imy. with the fatuous freah- we turneil aside at this tempting pros- , water Lough Curran** lying a mere tiOtt pect. And we did not regr**t «iur d* w yards or "ixi yards Inland. Watervllle tour. • » 1 I lias Its ternice of pink villas, housing Soon after leaving Killorglin, where j the cutde staff; hut it also owns a few the Carach lake lies, «ti11 ami Mack hotels, am! at oTie of these we wi-r** In Its opening In the hills, we began to excellently housed. Irl<h hotels m*t h«*- hnve soiu** foretaste of the glories he- * lug all they might be, one Is glad to fore us. 'I'h** road mounted Into barren i fln«l a r* al!v satl-fa« t*>ry one, nnd wildernesses, and on our right stid- n®oderate withal. Some of *»ur party denly the vast blue 1 xpanse «»f Dingle who paused to- patronize th** salmon bay was outspread, a dnanu In the sun-1 ami sea trout fishing on .Dmgh Cur- ram* were enthusiastic in their unan imous decision to return and make a longer sojourn. The lough, certainly Is one of the most beautiful I have ever hnd the fortune to behold. Our car, on the good advice of tin* hotel pro shine. Grander and grander grew the vistas across that splendid inlet, of tho Atlantic, wilder ami wilder the ranges on our loft. At Mountain Stage, where there is a little railway station (though heaveh alone knows what .the traffic can be), the scenery was ns noble as prietoh, turned aside and explored th** anything I hurt* witnessed In Great Britain. A railway accompanies the road at intervals during this part of th** Jour ney; but it is a very unobtrusive rail way. and appears to boast about u couple <Tf—"trains *p«*r diem in each direction. Its final objective, of course', is th** ferry for Valencia Island. And it is for ValeneinMlmt another of our companions was hound—th** telegraph valley in which the lough lies, going as far as that dreamy tarn known as Coppal lake. Fishers who ply their • raft in such scenery arc Indeed to be envied. Some Gloriour Scenery. Hut th** •best was yot in store for us. Returning to the main road and leaving pleasant Watervllle in our the ascent of the Coo- pass, Now, the J’oomakistu , M *n iiik |HV (-year. W’e began th* ! mnkista pass, N< are throbbing, maybe, with messages for New York. A curious thought, in this solitude! Hut Kerry is sophistir stations; and those ordinary looking v>'ires, nine of them only, which pass on** pound, parboil fiv# from polo to pole along tin* hedge side, minutes in boiling watet to cover, drain and roll In flour. Fry two slices of baertn until crisp, re- tuove and cook the liver in tin* fat Until liypwii. land one,the one at Ballin^kelligj, and Carefully arrange the liver In n - tin* one at Watervllle. The result is casserole,, ,‘idd two’ 1 'cupfuls of boiling that you suddenly come on queer water nnH stir until w**l| Mended. <’ur cases .of civilization:. neat rows of vjl- the bacon into-small strips nnd lay las. spick and span gardens, and line. For Nnlonrin is one nf the mbir | p : -p;s t 1 hrrt'by nnnnHTirp to'those who have not heard of it before, is one of the most glorious stretehes of s«*a ami mountain se«*tiery iti Kun»p«». I know tin* Cornieln* on_4he—lltvlera, I have motored the new* Italian mads above tin* Venetian plain, and also guest. iTVj Wmlding -ceb'brations.- on -fes- r "—Vf JIHI liyjk.r, -1 - U-1—A ve TTtc‘<Ii uTn-sl/i'd **\ Idi'YiT'eS—^Iwiil nrrrT'rry ot \\ **a 1 t lc. - l+tiI ..... n II I 1 C II 1 I 1 II , , *1 L ,11 « 1 1 •«. , 1 1 , rL ♦ ..I, <- ..4* ...4* ..* I . . * at**d, in spots as it were. It contains ■ between Valona and Santi Quaranta three cabb* stations—tie* Valencia Is- | jn Albania. ;in<l I can seriously assert that the view whleh -abruptly imfolded before us at the Tnlaunit of Coojna- kista, though slightly smaller in size than the celebnited ones 1 have m(*n- tioned, heats tuVTn all for sheer love- n\als and birthdays and to dispel evil and bring good omens. China exports' about $3,D00,000 worth a year. he Its Kind. “You see yonder man? Well, leads a double life.” “How dreadful!” “Not so very. He makes duplieat ing inaehinys*!I_ ( ' potatoes and on** stUnil onion through at any rate of mure comfort than ix the meat chopper and mix with three discernible in the thatch-roofed and tflldosponnfuls of salt. Spread thi* generally poverty-stricken farms. A “ANTIQUES” FROM NEW YORK Example of How the Tourist Is Vic timized When He Makes Pur. Some years before the war a resi dent of New York voyaged to Venice. Among his fellow passengers—at sea ^vvas- a traveling salesman, whom he got- to know quite well. What the New York man liked about the sales man was that he did not "talk shop.” He had -not even told his steamship acquaintance '\vhfltH»anner of goods he handled".' — —- - - ■ The day after they arrived In Venice the salesman went out ,on business, his steamship companion sightseeing. Among other places the latter visited was a fascinating antiquarian shop, after all, only a flesh-wound, we had |» r |ppg Mere steep, hut what of that? visited the scene of our rescue by the pj e Wanted something to., take back old priest. to show "the folks at home" that he The charge of djnsmlte which La-, had .really been in Vetdee. Finally h.* croIx had set exploded, ns It happened, settled on a hit of Venetian glass, a beneath that part which buttressed thq square of gold-eruBtTrtdered Venetian •ntlre atructure. and combining with <* u t velvet In a tamffhed gilt frame the preaaure of the glacier above, hnd nnd a silver-handled dagger engraved. enp! We make ’em In New York.-and I’m over here selling ’em. I’ll' take ’em nrrmnd tomorrow to—the place you bought ’em and get your money back for you.”—New York* Herald. /- - Unquenchable. '‘Old Lute Lathers is'a great feller to always look on the, bright side of things." said the gaunt -Missourian. over tin* Jjver, pouring flu* water and fnt over ff.vjOpver nnd bake in n hot oven until the . liver and* potato are well cooked. . Bran Gems.-—Mix .together,one cup ful of flour, two cupfuls of bran, two tea spoon fuls, of baking powdetV then add two table-spoonfuls of shortening, two tablespoonfnls of sugar, or molas ses, one. .tenspoonful of salt, one and orfe-lialf cupfuls of milk and n tfalf cupful of chiqtped raisins. Place in grc.nstMl_.gpm paps nnd b.-ike -W n ■ moderately not oven fo.r twenry.min iltes. Vegetab’e Chowder—"I’ako/fwo c\ip- fuls of cone six nudinm sized pota toes, one onion, one green pepper and two tomatoes, put through the meat •’hopper. Brown end* fourth of a cupful of sausage, add n tnhlcsphonful. of flour, then tb<* vegetaMes. jin*! a t<*n- cable terminal, you learn with sur prise, employs a hundred or more per sons—skilled persons, too; the kind of persons who have to be paid a sal ary which sounds like untold wealth ki this neighborhood. Happy Valencia Island. It avas interesting to come to the Valencia island ferry and look across at a little town as neat as some nice French coast resort. But Valencia is land. as wy found, is by way of being both rich and happy ; nud even if its cable station *1 id not bring unusual cointoris; the Knight of Kerjy is one of those Tffnd’ords wl^o see to' it that their pr«(perty. and the {enants-'fh'er**- on. are seemly to Ix’hold, Valencia we all liked; it was, to be Candid, rather a contrast to the nearby Faliir- eiveen—of which a small pupil had written (in omvof tfie scln»ol.< which we visited) In her essay: "Cahirciveen. is a town with a great-many houses. ■liifessr* a -sukiK.-ry t>i- wlml- thrown the mountain oq It* aide, flll- « lth the arms of'on** of the doges, fn Ing the lake with aeveral million tons u the evening af the hotel he di«|*lajed «f Ire and obliterating all traces of the (bent not without a feeling of pnde. which lay buried beneath its to the traveling salesman. "My frteod." asM the latter, “you’ve Fere Antoine's expUna bee* very decent to ase. and now ITI at oore that ft do jrou a good turn. 8ay. hut Dnl , . spoonful of salt, cayenne to taste. Add "lie was r ding to town on a load of . ... —. • . , , . , .... " , , , . - , boiling whfer to bar**ly cover and hay with his son-in-law the other day . , . ... , , , , , . . J.... ,, ■Slimier gently f<«r one h<uir,-A'M one an< most of them are publi£jio«*e*:" when the roads were so muddy. One . , , , . . ,, , , .. ..... . ^7^- , ... , , , . . . >; . 1 etipfnl of- milk and simmer until It Is F<»r all that, ( ahireiveen is verv wheel dropped into a chuckhole clear ... , , , . ’ ' • ... , . .u- . .. -1 . absorbed. , * characteristic and picturesque. Ib*- Lempb Apple Pie.—Take two cup- vend it the road was, alas, pretty fuls of chopped apple, one cupful of rough: army lorries/.we were t*H«i. had sugar, the Juice and rind of a lemon.® ploughed i» up. and therPTlad been n<( one egg w**ll ben,t**n, half a cupful each ( timy*, as yet. to ptrt it under proper. lip to the axle, the hay slewed, and I’ncle I.uts^ rolled oft nnd landed on his head in a puddle n foot nnd a half deep. ‘Well, sir,’ says he. when it hey had dug him out nnd mopped.-him-«df some, ‘these ’.«*ce mud roads bruise you. up like a rock road does! If that had been a hard-surfaced road. *(f M-afur and rolled cracker -•'runibs. Bake In a two crust pie in a nio.der.ufp r'gkl'- bdogged If H woDldn’t have plumb S ? uce.—This sauce, broke my neck "’-Kansas City Star. I ,n "- v ** ° n nn - v ^ rtkwl Ridding On Valuing Men. We commend n horse for hi* J dark br**Mti '-sugar %v|fh three- fnMe- strength.' and sureness of foot, and spotatfuM **f flour, add one and **ne-* not for his rich caparison*; a grey • half cupful* of boiling water, am! cook hound for his wondrous speed, not fue until «m**oth: a*!d two tahl*-«|M*nnfq!« saw glorious pink geranium* positively ht* tine collar; a hawk for her wing ef buttbr. «r le** andtyelee raan-h snadbering a cottage wall. Arum lilies not for her )ea*ea and bells. Why. la rut tu quarrra. S«rve hoL like weed* UU-thc • repair. An easy pace was not undesir able. all tin* same, for then* was plenty to look at. (>n either hand the hedges, we saw with delight, were fuchsia--: a -testimony to the climate’s softness. like cot trig** pudding, but I* nice lNciwvlure we meat in tills p«rt of nlth steam* d cake. M!x one cupful of ; Kerry we were nst«»nlshed at tbe vege tation. Fuchsias grew astonishingly. On VabeW'igJshthd there is «*ne colos sal tree of fuchsia, and here also we nrtjspe would cull its composition. Before us lay Dnrrynaiie bay. Nvith ifs »’omplicated contours, its endless- islands round which the Atlantic roll ers were creaming, its delicious coves of yellow sands, its huge woods, its grand encircling rocks and broken sky line. The car drew up without any -order being given to ouf chauffeur. It. was as though he felt that this tribute must bo made to the extraordinary vision which had bursT 011 us in this dramatic fashion. Wo stayed silent, by tbe stone dike which fenced us from tho deep declivity, ajrd gazed and .gazed. It all seemed too exquisite to be- tt*ue. And Dnrrynanh, when at last we came to It—Tor we all agreed, now, that we must leave tho main high road and look more -closely ’at this wonderful Darrynane—was liko a place in a fairy story. Just on** small, inn— emboTvered in flowers (for the slope is southerly, and we art* on the Gulf stream)’—and no other houses except one. that of the Liberator O’Connoil's family; and. spread Out, as smooth as velvet, sheltered sands for bathers (if any should come); and rocks with pools of waving seaweed nnd anem ones; ami deep coves In which hass and pollock- could be caught in Wares, by the merest tyro; and, to crown all, a magnificent .lobster ten at the ijm aforementioned. WoM, well! To think that -Darryuiine, sleepy and bewitch ing, exists on the same planet ns Had dington 1 :.ir va!«* a Ov Jvm ■ I ail IL | " H boy tag Umo* things js g ipiMf la mj | taiga*. for what la property tua •" #ard«-n* Aloof the t*og iuK and right Aowo to thr se««horr. there were ofteo His Tactful Purpose. First Married Man—What are yoa nutting out of the paper? Second Married Man—An Item ahopt a California man'* securing n divorce because bis wife M eat Through bl* pofcket*. * - ( • First Married Man—What are -you r**irqc to do with It? . -. Secood Married Maov^Fut It lo s) * (