The county record. [volume] (Kingstree, S.C.) 1885-1975, July 21, 1904, Image 2
?1* . - - - -.^r- .
jjloldenhii
' copyright !?*s by B*
CHAPTER XX.
Continued.
My cheeks tingled with indiguation
which I did not dare to express. I
followed my uncle down the stairs.
Thoroughly vexed and pained as I
was to hear my dear father so pitilessly
disparaged by his brother. I was
not at all surprised at uncle Sam's
bitterness. Circumstances seemed to
how that my father and I bad both
fallen victims to the clumsy fraud of
an iguorant old mau. But the situation
bad now become hopeful. If
uncle Sam's theory was correct, as I
hoped and believed it might prove to
be, reconciliation of the brothers was
not only possible but highly probable,
my uncle's recent declaration to the
contrary notwithstanding.
As soon as he entered the brilliantly
lighted dining room uncle Sam as-!
suined his airiest manner, in no way '
Indicating the serious thoughts which
Lad occupied Lis iuiud a uiiuuie of so
before. All the company. except Mr.
Rosenberg, had departed; and uiy
aunt and Miss Marsh, who were
dressed for dinner, appeared very
charming in white silk robes trimmed
with old lace, each lady wearing a
girdle troin which depended a superb
fan ornamented with feathers and
diamonds.
l shall not attempt to describe either
the apartment or the decking of the
table, being well assured of mv inability
to do so. Suffice it to say tbat
both were as artistic and luxurious
as the best artists in those thiugs at |
the end of the nineteenth century can
1 provide for men of lavish expenditure.
As soon as dinner was over, we adjourned
to the drawing room, with
the exception of uncle Sam. who betook
himself to the roof to smoke,
aaying that he would prefer to be
alone as he bad a troubled matter to
unravel, and could not accomplish bis
purpose without consuming three
cigars. "It is uow," said he. glancing
at his watch, "a few minutes past
nine, and I may not see you again before
morning, so good-night aud pleasant
dreams."
Dear old uncle Sam! Uow well I
Knew UiS SUDjeel OO wnicu ut? luieuuni
to exercise bis thoughts, and how ardently
I hoped a renewal of his friendship
with my father would result from
his deliberations!
Whether her womanly instincts had
perceived the attraction which her
sister had for me. and her kindliness
of heart prompted her to gratify me.
or that it so befell of accident I know
not; but to my great satisfaction, ou
returning to the drawing room my
aunt at once entered into conversation
with Mr. Rosenberg, leaving Miss
Marsh and me to pass our time us
best we could.
What an evening was that! Why. I
was almost happy and really believe
I should have been quite so but for
the shadow of the estrangement l>etween
the two brothers whose lives
were bound up with miue.
The conversation of lovers, so delightful
to the parties immediately
concerned, is notably uninteresting
to everybody else: and it is not my
inteuiiou to bring upon myself that
ridicule which meat past the amorous
phase of their career so mercilessly
and inconsistently uete oot to their
fellows eugaged in it by recording
in ihis place my conversation with
Constance Marsh on that memorable
occasiou. 8udice It to say that in
??biug the tule of the sequins, which j
( seised this opportunity to relate, 11
greatly excited her sympathy. My !
iong silence was forgiven as soon as ;
its cause was understood and it was J
clear to me that I had established myself
in her favor more firiuly than
ever.
"1 understand you will be from home
all to-morrow," I observed.
"Yes." replied Miss Marsh. "I am ;
going to Tgrrytowu. Airs. Van Rens- j
iselaer has just returned from Europe.
^ and is to give a big reception."
"Where is Tarrytowu. and who is j
Mrs. Van Rensselaer?" I inquired. I
"Tarrytowu is a beautiful village j
on the Hudson, about twenty-five miles j
jrom here. Mrs. van Rensselaer is
(he widow of Martin Van Rensselaer,
the railroad king. Everybody has
heard of old Martin Van Rensselaer, j
who died two years ago worth fifty
uilliou dollars."
"Yes. I think I have read something
about him somewhere." I said. "Tell
me. Connie dear will the Rev. Mr.
Price be thereV" ,
"I don't know, I'm sure. I hope
not." replied Miss Marsh.
"I am quite unable to express my delight
that your entertain such a hope, j
May I beg you will increase it by telling
uie why you hope he may not be ;
there'/"
"Because he is a tease, and nionopo1
xes my time when he has the opportunity
to do so," confessed Miss
Marsh.
"If the Rev. Mr. Price were to ask ,
you to become his wife, what would
you say'/" ;
"The uarne as I have said before."
"What! bus he asked you to marry
hini'f*
"Dear me. yes. Lots of times."
"Aud what has been your answer?"
-
irstAlHaijy
j
ss- by"
ALTER BLOOMFIELO
bekt Banner's Sons.
[ -No."
"Dear Connie! And If T wete to ask
; you that question, what would your
reply be?"
"The same."
"Do you like me no better than Mr.
Price?"
"O yes; ever so much better."
"Then who Is it you prefer to either
of us?"
"Myself."
"Connie," I said, taking one of her
little hands and holding it tightly in
both of mine, "I don't mind confessing
to you that I was vain enough to
hope your decision might be different.
I would not ask you to marry me while
j I am poor; but all the world knows?
1 and no place furnishes more examples
; that this city? that wealth is a thing
1 which passes from hand to hand and
is as often gained as lost. What if I
were rich enough to keep my wife in
the manner in which you have lived
your life?"
"I was not thinking of money; my
father left me more of that than I
can possibly require in any circumstances.
I don't think I'm much inclined
to marry anybody."
"You may change your mind. Some
young ladies who have talked as you
talk now have afterwards become admirable
wives. If that should be your
case, what sort of man could you tolerate
as your husband?"
"Not Mr. Price."
"Dear Connie! And me?could you
tolerate me?"
"I think perhaps I could if I tried."
"May I rest assured that, should you
ever marry, it is my wife you will become?
That provisional promise
would make me happy."
"Take Tt then and be happy, you
silly boy."
"Dearest Connie, I must seal this
compact with a kiss."
"Not now. Earnest dear, not now.
Hush! Leave go of my hand; here
comes my sister and Mr. Rosenberg."
CHAPTER XXI.
ANNIE WOLSET FOUND.
Though Constance Marsh had not
promised to be my wife (indeed that
could hardly have been, for I had not
asked her for any such promise;, her
undertaking to accept me for her kusIwtnd
should she marry tilled me with
satisfaction. Her professed indisposition
for marriage I regarded as a profession
and nothing more?the bantering
playfulness of a high-spirited,
noble-uiiuded girl. I had not lacked
opportunities to observe that the ambition
of every woman is marriage;
and that the few, the very few women
who deny this assertion with words,
illustrate its truth in the failure of
their lives. The girl of my choice was
intensely feminine, her nature unwarped
by any of the pernicious humbug
of woman's so-called rights, concerning
which a shrieking sisterhood
of the malformed, the neglected, and
the deluded spoil much good paper
and rend the air in many lecture halls;
and I did not at all doubt that I bad
now merely to raise my fortune to
the level of hers to enable me to claim
her hand and find my claim allowed.
Love will lightly attempt tasks from
which reason would shirk, and the
difficulty of effecting the necessary
change in my condition had no terrors
for me, or I was too dazzled by the
prospective prize to perceive Them.
With an unquestioning faith in my
uncle's perceptive powers. I was now
more than ever disposed to unreservedly
accept his theory of the robbery
of the sequins, and I resolved to neglect
nothing that might tend toward
their recovery. Filled with t-his idea.
I arose early the next morning, resolved
to discuss with him ways and
means expedient for me, and was surprised
to learn that he had arisen before
use and was engaged in his study.
My mental condition was such that
it appeared to me impossible that another
man could have affairs comparable
for importance with the matter
upon which the possession of my
dear Constance more or less depended,
and 1 did not in the least scruple to
interrupt my uncle. I found him
seated at his desk, writing with mar
vellous rapidity. "iou come eariy,
be said, looking up. but without for a
moment ceasing to write. "Take a
chair. I will talk to you presently."
Seeing that he was busy, I did not
answer, but sat down as requested '
and listened to the industrious scratching
of my uncle's pen. Preseutly the
writer ceased, folded his papers,
placed them in an envelope, on which
he bestowed a vigorous blow at the
sealing place, then threw himself back
in his chair and folded his arms. He
appeared to know perfectly why I had
disturbed bim at that early hour,
though I bad not yet spoken to bim;
and with bis accustomed bluntness he
at once grappled with the business
he conceived 1 had come upon.
With regard to those sequins," said
uncle Sam, "I find no cause to revise
the remark I made about them last
uight. Adams, the butler, or whatever
you call him, stole them; of that '
I don't entertain the smallest doubt.
He may have been assisted by another
of the Holdenhurst servants, or by one
of Knight & Faulkner's men; but it :
is improbable. I have never beard it
suggested that the old man was a thief;
but I well remember his miserly habits
of more than twenty years ago. Miserliness
once acquired is never shaken
off. but intensities with time. What
can be more reasonable than to suppose
that when Knight & Faulkner
were making the alterations in the
Hall, the treasure was accidentally
revealed to AdamsV?who would be
quite safe, he would think, in concluding
that its existence was unknown to
your father or any other member of
our family from the mere fact of it
being where It was. Many people who
can look with equanimity on piles of
bank notes are strangely moved at
sight of a heap of gold coins, and find
the infernal stuff quite Irresistible.
This I believe was the case with
Adams; and I base my opinion on his
going so much in and out of the crypt
about the time the robbery is supposed
to have taken place, his strange
finding of you there, his illness immediately
afterwards, his lies to incriminate
me, and his gift to you of fifty
pounds. This last move of the old
man was to salve his conscience rather
than to benefit you. That consoience
is a vile thing and troubles a great
many people, I know well; for I had
a conscience myself some years ago.
It was a great nuisance. However, I
take only a remote interest in all these
things, and but for your sake, don't
care two straws what became of the
sequins. xour iatncr nas xreaiea rue
too badly for friendship between us
even to be renewed; but I confess I
should be gratified to learn that his
frightful blunder has been demonstrated
to him. This is my position;
and if you intend to try to recover the
treasure?good; I will help you with
advice and money. Or if you don't
think the amount worth the trouble,
good again; and we will agree not to
speak or think any more of the matter."
At another time my uncle's declaration
would have depressed me, for certainly
there was but one thing I more
ardently desired than his reconciliation j
with my father. But I was not now ;
disposed to be easily depressed. On ;
the contrary, to my eyes all things had
put on a rosy hue, and I not only
looked for the speedy possession of a
quarter of a million sequins, and of '
Constance Marsh as my wife, but also
for the patching up of the miserable ,
feud of which uncle Sam had just
spoken. Lovers' thoughts are so ex- .
travagantly fantastical that I was .
oblivious of the fact that the sequins .
might never be recovered, or if recovered
were not mine; that Constance .
Marsh had not promised to marry nre; J
and that my uncle had just declared (
the impossibility of renewing his former
friendship with my father. In .
this cheerful tnood I answered that (
I had fully determined to follow up the 3
clue he h^d suggested, and was pre- (
pared to accept any assistance ut*
might think necessary and was pre
pared to offer
"Very good,'' said uncle Sum. "The
case is a simple one. You have not to
deal with an accomplished thief, but
an ignorant old miser, who was overcome
by a large temptation and has
already manifested a symptom of remorse.
The world knows nothing of
its greatest thieves; their success prevents
that. Your object, as I understand
it, is to get a grip on those sequins;
and mine merely to establish
the fact that I had no hand in abstracting
them. Am I right?"
"Quite right, uncle."
Well, you have but to follow my
directions, and I venture to predict
that you will recover every sequin before
three weeks are over your bead.
Return at once to Holdeuhurst, and for
a few days closely observe every act
of Adams; but be extremely cautious
that the old man doesn't become conscious
you are watching him. Talk to
him freely, but make no attempt to
sound him on any point which bears,
however remotely, on the matter in i
hand. It is not unlikely your vigilance 1
will be rewarded by valuable knowl- I
edge. About a week after your re- 1
turn send the old man on some errand 1
whicly will keep him away from Hold- '
enhurst for an entire day, and during 1
his absence thoroughly examine his *
room afcd everything that is his. Don't *
scruple to turn out his drawers and I
boxes?his suspicious conduct fully jus- 1
tides the act. Should you fail to tind I
the sequins, when the old man returns, *
seize him by the throat and, forcing J
him against the wall thus"?here uncle (
Sam suddenly arose and, grasping me t
tightly around the neck with his left 3
hand, pushed me backwards against '
a large cabinet with such vigor that
I was almost strangled, and my white f
tie, which I had spent twenty minutes
in adjusting, hopelessly spoiled?"tell
him you possess the clearest possible 2
evidence that be has stolen the contents
of ten chests belonging to your
father; that if he immediately restores
what he has stolen he shall be forgiven,
but that if he dare refuse or
even demur you will at once hand him
over to the police and charge him with
robbery. Be intensely earnest in your
manner, and let your subsequent acts
accord with your words. If you don't
find the sequins while Adams is away,
your accusation on his return will
throw him into a deadly terror; he will
fall on his knees like a penitent villain
in a melodrama and give you information
worth $560,000. If you find
the sequins. j*ou can afford to deal less
harshly with the old man."
"Yes," I gasped, as soon as my un- c
ele relaxed his grasp on my throat r
To be continued.
Softly (who fell overboard and was t
dramatically rescued)?"Did?you?aw
?faint when you heard them yell.
'Man overboard?'" Helen (sobbing)?
"No?no, Cholly. I never once sua* c
pected they could mean you."?Tit-Bit*. y
? . r
Checker Hoard Road*.
N* most parts of the West
^ Jg where the public lands
O I O were surveyed and laid
X -* K off into sections, halves
\ffOfr and quarters, the public
roads have been established on the
section lines. These roads consequently
run either north and south or east
and west, crossing at right angles. This
method of locating roads is sometimes
called "the checker board system." and
the term is quite appropriate. In some
States the road laws contemplate the
establishing of a road on every section
line, so they will be only one mile
apart, but not nearly all these roads
have been actually opened.
In comparison with the system, or
lack of system, which prevails in the
older settled States of the East and
South, this checker board system has
some advantages. The roads are not
left to be located at bap-hazard, or c;i \
crooked farm boundaries, or according
to the whims or selfish interests of
the locators. The order and mathe
mntical regularity of the system na-!
turally appeals to the minds of those J
who read about those roads or study i
tbeni on maps, but to tnose wno actu- j
ally travel them, tbcir location appears j
to be very far short of ideal per fee- j
tion. In fact the system involves two
very grave defects. If a man wishes i
to travel directly north, south, east or
west, these roads take him by the
shortest route. But a large majority
of the people wish to travel in other
directions. Let us suppose a man lives
exactly ten miles northwest from his
country seat. In order to reach it he J
must travel seven miles east and seven i
miles south, or fourteen miles in all. |
Thus a majority of travelers suffer
a hardship in the matter of distance.
But the second defect in the system
Is far graver. The mathematical precision
with which these roads are
located carries them across hills and
hollows without any regard to economy
in the matter of grades. Where
the country is perfectly level there is
r.o difficulty; where it is rolling the
roads can only be improved at a heavy
cost in making cuts and fills: where
there are steep hills and deep ravines
to cross the system is wholly impracticable.
Doubtless one of the first benefits
that will follow the adoption of the
national plan will be the modification
3f this system so as to remedy these
Icfccts in a large measure. Naturally
the first roads to be improved in a
county will be those leading directly
north, south, east and west from the
wiinhr coot- Thon mnin rnuls f>r J?V. I
snues leading northeast, northwest,
southeast and southwest from the
county seat should be opened and improved.
Thus the first defect shall be
largely eliminated.
The second defect pointed out can
inly be cured by departing from the
section lines where the lay of the
road makes it economical to do so.
[Jnder national and State aid competent
engineers will be employed to
correct errors of location, so as to increase
the usefulness of the roads, and
it the same time reduce their cost.
The sentiment for national aid is
making great headway in this part of
the country. In Nebraska the Legislature
has declared in favor of it
Several members of Congress from
Missouri are outspoken advocates of
the plan. In Illinois a State Commission
has been appointed to investigate
ind report on national aid. In a num>er
of other States definite action will
probably be taken in the near future.
>'o "Gntfl!"
Congress has no more widely useful
measure of domestic legislation in i
land that is contemplated in the bill 1
)Ut forward by Representative Browuow
and Senator Gallinger to give naional
aid to the good roads movement,
rhe plan is to make a liberal appropriation
which will be available for
he payment of half the cost of buildng
new roads, the other half to be
laid by the State, county or local poitical
division benefited by the imirovement
The authors of this delign
pointed out in addresses to the 1
Automobile Club that the general government,
which has spent $2,000,000 in
he Philippines and $1,500,000 in Porto :
Rico on road building, could properly
lo something in that line for the Amercan
farmer. As $150,000,000 has been ;
;pent on rivers and harbors since :
lie Civil War, they suggest it Is time
o make facilities for land travel also (
t matter of federal concern.
There is no doubt that the Ameri an
farmer directly, and the whole ,
icople indirectly, would gain much by
he stimulus the good roads move- (
nent would receive from a federal
ippropriation sharing with the State
lalf the cost of new roadways. There
s only one argument against putting
u.? plan quickly into effect, and that '>
s the danger of opening the way to
'Xtravagance in appropriations and
'graft" in their expenditure. If the
American people could have assurance
lot to say insurance, against turning ;
he plan to the advantage of reckless ]
egislators and corrupt contractors,
hey would quickly order it carried
>ut. They want no more river and
larbor grabs or public buildings steals ,
>r rural free delivery plunder. There
ire plenty of arguments against openng
the Treasury door to that kind of
'graft." But there is no argument
igainst good roads.
A Good Tip. I
Be careful what you do here and
lon't worry about what will be done
vith you hereafter.?Chicago News.
]?Rcp(E^
Carrot PuddlDt.
Two cups grated carrot, two cups
grated potato, two cups chopped suet,
two cups flour, ouc cup sugar, one cup
molasses, one cup laisins, one cup currants,
one lemon (grate rind and add
Juice), one teaspoonful cream tartar,
spice and salt. Steam three hours,
bake half an hour.
???
Chocolate Souffle.
Melt two tablespoonfuls of butter;
add five tablespoonfuls of flour; do
not brown, but stir constantly until
smooth; add gradually half a cupful
of milk and stir until thickened; pour
this over the yolks of three eggs and
two tablespoonfuls of sugar, which
have been beaten together; put two
squares of chocolate in a pan over hot
water; when melted add it to the mixture;
stand aside until cool; shortly be
fore the souffle is to be served beat the
whites of eggs until stiff; mix them
carefully into a cold mixture; turn into
a buttered mold; the mold should be
only three-fourths full; cover the
mold; stand it in a pan of boiiing water
and boil half an hour; serve with
sugar and cream.
Two Cheese Sandwiches.
A circular cracker, of the variety
known as water thin, is crisped in the
oven. It Is then spread with rich
cream cheese, rather thickly, and
topped with a layer of ruby bar-le-duc.
This is made of stemmed red currants
floating in a delicious thin jelly. The
other cheese sandwich consists of two
oblongs, three by one and one-half
Inches, of brown bread, cut very thin
and freed from crust. The filling is
prepared by rubbing some cream
cheese very soft and blending it with
mineed watercress and two tablespoonfuls
of mayonnaise dressing. The
brown bread sandwich is served on
a crisp lettuce leaf. It is a tasty and
delicious sandwich for summer luncheons
and for picnics. Nothing can fill
its place.
A Short Cut to Marmalade.
To slice oranges and lemons in the
process of making marmalade, there
is nothing better than an ordinary carpenter's
plane, an instrument which is
found in almost all households in the
larger or smaller form. The older
wooden planes are preferable, as they
do not discolor the fruit as the more
modren all iron plane would do. To
use, invert the plane over the pan in
which the marmalade is to be made.
Take the whole fruit and move it back
and forth over the knife, removing the
seeds as they appear. This will give
slices equal to those made with the
very expensive marmalade machine,
though with slightly more trouble, but
much more quickly and easily than
with an ordinary knife. The plane
blade should be sharp and properly
adjusted before commencing the slicing.
An individual once trying this
short cut will never use the ordinary
kitchen knife again, for the ease and
rapidity with which the fruit is sliced
is marvelous.?Boston Cooking School.
fcllNTS FOR THE
t Housekeeper^
Dishcloths are quickly made fresh
and sweet by boiling in clean water
with a good lump of soda added.
Always put the sugar used in a tart
In the centre of the fruit, not at the
top, as this makes the paste sodden.
When peeling onions, begin at the
root end and peel upward, and the onions
will scarcely affect your eyes at
all.
In boiling meat for making soup the
meat should be put into cold water.
In order to extract all the goodness
from the meat.
Soup will be as good the second day
If heated to boiling point. It should
never be left in a saucepan, but
turned into a dish and put aside to
cool. Do not cover the soup up, as
IUUL UJilJ Uli U3(? 1U IU IU1U BvUl
A tablespoon of black pepper put in
the first water in which gray and buff
linens are washed will keep the colors
of black or colored cambrics or muslins
from running. A little gum arabic
imparts a gloss to ordinary starch.
If moths are in a carpet, turn it over
and iron on the wrong side with a good
hot flatiron. Then sprinkle the floor
underneath liberally with turpentine,
pouring it into the cracks if there are
any. Rub the turpentine in and then
you can turn back your carpet. Repeat
this treatment two or three days. <
A good recipe which will keep the
bristles of hair brushes stiff after
washing is as follows: Pour into an
open dish a dessertspoonful of ammonia
to a quart of cold water. Dip j
the brush into this, moving up and
down, but taking care not to wet the J
back of the brush. In this way the
bristles will be clean and white in
less than one minute and without any
rubbing. Then dip the brush Into
clear water, shake and place in a '
rack to drain.
Humor^
Today
All Correct. ^'
An antiseptic baby lived on antiseptie
milk;
His clothes were antiseptic, made of antiseptic
silk.
In antiseptic carriages he rode, with time
to spare.
He had an antiseptic nurse, breathed antiseptic
air;
And though upon this mundane sphere he
did not long abide,
They placed him in an antiseptic coffin
when he died.
?Smart Set. i
Its Drawback.
"Education is a groat thing."
"Yes. it tnrns out some mighty intelligent
criminals."?Life.
Expensive Encashment.
Patience?' How do you know her
love for him was strong?"
Patrice?"Because* it broke hiir.."?
Yonkers Statesman.
Ambiguous.
Jack Xervey?"I'm going lo kiss you
when I leave this house '.o-ulglit."
May Kutely?"Leave the house this
instant, sir!"?Philadelphia Press.
Mother Earth.
"I wonder why pooplc always speak
of Earth as she?"
"It's natural enough. Nobody knows
exactly what her age is."?l'kiladel
puia L.euger.
Aflcr.
She?' Ali, you meu! Before marriage
you pay compliments, but a*ter?"
He?"After? Why, after?wc do better;
we pay bills."?Life.
Advanced.
"You say that Lord Fueash's social
position has improved since he mafried
a rich American girl?"
"Yes, indeed. Formerly he was only
a nobleman; but now he belongs to our
heiresstocracy."?Washington Star.
i
None Sucli.
"I'm looking for a painless dentist
Can you recommend one?"
"I never knew any that didn't hurt
at least once."
"When is that?"
"When his bill comes in."?Detroit
Free Press.
Careles* Arti?t.
"Do you think you can draw that
hall the lencth of the table?"
"I'll have to, I suppose. But I don't
set why the artist didn't draw It back
there to begin with."?Chicago Tribune.
rV'rv- " !
Wisely Chosen.
Mr. Short?"Can I believe it?you will
really marry me?"
Miss Tall?"Yes. I always make my
own dresses, and, as we are both the
same height, you will come real handy
when I am cutting and fitting."?New
York Weekly.
Not Compulsory. M
"Tell me, Colonel," asked the beginner
in politics, addressing the grayhaired
statesman, "can a politician be
honest?"
"I suppose so, my boy," replied the
veteran, "but?ah!?it isn't necessary."
?Collier's Weekly.
Making Allowances.
"People do not take in proper account,"
said the broad-minded man,
"the nervous strain under which we
live. It is necessary to make allowances
for some of our public officials."
"That's the idea," rejoined Senator
Sorghum. "And liberal allowances,
too."?Washington Star.
Physical, Not Political.
Doctor?"You have a perfectly sound
constitution, sir, but you are overworked
a little and run down, and that
is why your physical energies have begun
to flag."
Patient?"Then in my case the constitution
does not follow the flag?
Thank yon, doctor."?Yonkers Herald.
No Contretemps.
"How did your nephew's wedding
pass off?"
"Just splendid."
"Were there any contretemps?"
"I don't think so. I didn't see any.
You see we had the church thoroughly
cleaned up just before the wedding
took place."?Cleveland Plain Dealer.
In the BUlTllle Backwoods.
"How far is it to the next town, my
friend?"
" 'Bout nity acres?ur ucua.
"I mean?how many miles."
"Well, hit mout be two, or hit moat
be six."
"You're a big fool!"
"I know it; but?you orter seen my
daddy!"?Atlanta Constitution.
HI* Preference. f
The father was giving the son some
ldvice.
"Now that you are starting out in
life," said the parent, "you will find It
?ays to cultivate the acquaintance of
well-to-do people."
But the son shook his head.
"No, pop," he responded, "I will find
t pays me better to cultivate the ac?
juaintance of easy-to-do people. I am
joing to locate iu Wall Street."?CMliago
News.