Galveston Tribune. (Galveston, Tex.), Vol. 39, No. 257, Ed. 1 Monday, September 22, 1919 Page: 4 of 10
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FOUR
GALVESTON TRIBUNE.
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1919.
GALVESTON TRIBUNE
================== ESTABLISHED 1880 =========--====
Published Evenings Except Sunday at the Tribune Building.
Entered at the Postoffice in Galveston as Second-Class Mail Matter.
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The Associated Press is exclusively entitled to
the use for republication of all news dispatches
credited to it or not otherwise credited in this
paper, and also the local news published herein.
THE INDIVIDUAL
There are always to be found an
ample supply of men who have taken
it upon themselves to tell all the other
people what to do in order to have the
nation, to reduce the high cost of liv-
ing, or to make America more Amer-
ican.
more
Like the Mexican army, there are
generals who give orders
there are privates to obey them.
than
It ap-
pears to be a quality of the American,
atmosphere to impress quite a num-
ber of individuals with the belief that
thay have been especially appointed and
equipped for directing the balance of
us where to head in.
Of course, the self-appointed.Moses is
seldom conscious of the fact that he is
making a bid for the wilderness wan-
derers to follow him into some promised
land where the wicked cease from
troubling and the weary are at rest, but
unconsciously or not, it is of such fre-
quent occurrence that wonder has been
expressed that with so many pointing
out the path to a better experience the
country does not more rapidly recover
from the effects of the war.
Whoever said that in a multitude of
council there was safety, no doubt had
in mind the confusion which must ever
becloud the presentation of numerous
ideas and which would naturally bar
the way to any action being taken, and
perhaps the nation has escaped dis-
aster by not beng able to follow all the
splendid advice furnished whenever an
occasion gives these individuals op-
portunity for tendering advice to those
who have been charged with the car-
rying out of plans for national better-
ment.
The individual is not to be blamed for
thinking; he. should be commended for
manifesting more than a passive in-
terest in what is taking place in the
nation and in the world, but the larg-
est trouble in this connection is and has
been that the person refuses to concede
that there is any merit in schemes sug-
gested or advice offered by any other
being. It might suggest itself to any-
one not blind to reason that it will be
impossible for all plans to be adopted
or all suggestions to be given thorough
investigation and when some plan shall
have been adopted or some idea deemed
worth while, there should come an end
; to discussion and action take the
place of debate.
Many a splendid scheme for better-
ment has been spoiled because of the
refusal of some whose ideas ran in an-
other direction to fall in line with the
accepted proposition. Many a poor
idea has been made a splendid success
because of the determination behind it
to make it so and by the disposition
of the people to lend their aid to what-
ever comes with the promise of benefit
or betterment. This holds good in na-
tional affairs as well as in local mat-
ters.
It is probably because the American
people are great readers and keep them-
selves well informed on current topics
that they are so quick to form opinions
or to take sides on any question aris-
ing from time to time. This is to be
commended rather than censured, the
only flaw in the process is the reluc-
tance, or rather the refusal to accept
the verdict of the majority and change
front to the extent of conceding that
some other suggestion contained merit
sufficient to warrant its being given
atair trial.
This quality of individualism is the
bane of the professional politician,
whose job will be a lost are in a few
years, for no longer is is possible to hold
great masses of voters within party
lines by mere appeal to their prejud-
ices; they may not any longer follow
the dictates of those who have attained
leadership in the political parties, but
when offered a choice they are more
than apt to give support to that which
appeals to their sense of patriotism or
humanity; this may not always be be-
cause they have abandoned their own
opinions but because they recognize
the uselessness of fighting against the
inevitable. What is needed in addi-
tion is, that having recognized the im-
possibility of their individual desires
prevailing, they should then throw the
the entire weight of their individuality
toward the cause or the purpose at
which’their fellow citizens are work-
ing.
Bulgaria has been handed her peace
terms and given twenty-five days in
which to digest its import and affix
the names of her representatives. Bul-
garia is set down as the bad child of the
Balkans and should esteem herself for-
tunate that she is permitted to con-
tinue as a nation after what she has
done to create turmoil in the Near East.
Bulgaria’s appetite for increased terri-
tory was second only to that of the
Austrian Hapsburgs, and this appetite
is what was tempted in order to get
Bulgaria into the war. Bulgaria has
danced, now she is called upon to pay
the piper.
There should be a prompt investiga-
tion of the statement made by the at-
Eastern Offices.
New York Office, 341 Fifth Ave.
D. J. Randall.
Chicago, St. Louis and Detroit Offices,
The S. C. Beckwith Agency.
torney for the Chicago city bureau of
foods, markets and farm supplies. This
official claims that large quantities of
army foodstuffs which it was purposed
to sell to the public, have been se-
cured by wholesalers and jobbers, and
that later, when the public shall have
forgotten about the incident, will be
placed on sale. If such a charge should
be proven a fact, those who engineered
it ought to be placed where, for the
succeeding six months, they will have
no reason to be interested in what is
happening beyond the walls.
Henry Morgenthau, who headed an
investigating committee in Poland, re-
ports that conditions in that country
and other small European nations is
something terrible, hunger and starva-
tion everywhere and the people not
knowing where to turn. Perhaps Mr.
Morgenthau tells a true story of the
conditions as he saw them, but the
question naturally arises, how do the
Poles manage to maintain an army on
a number of fronts while the people
are starving?
There appears to be no good reason
why the request of the farmers of the
nation for equal representation with
the labor unions at the coming White
House conference, should be refused.
The farmers largely outnumber the
unionists and they are divided into
just about as many different classes.
The farmer is the foundation of the
nation’s prosperity and the reliance of
the labor union. Probably the great-
est difference between the two is that
the farmer does not stop work when
the five o’clock whistle blows and
begins his day before the town worker
is fairly awake.
Every American city will doubtless
be quick to challenge the assertion that
Stockholm, -Sweden, is probably the
most expensive place among civilized
nations in which to live, but the fig-
ures furnised to back up the claim
would indicate that Stockholm is en-
titled to the doubtful honor. It costs
eight dollars to occupy a bed in a. ho-
tel and take a bath in the morning,
a meal is considered moderate,at $5,
and a bottle of champagne costs $200.
Perhaps what is said about Stockholm
will induce a number of Texas oil mag-
nates to visit that city, for there is
no place in America where they can
get rid of their easy money with so
much celerity.
It is gratifying to note that the
women have taken cognizance of some
of the eccentricities of dress character-
izing the costumes of the supposedly
well-dressed female. This means that
there is hope for a change for better.
Now, if some man could be found with
sufficient courage to call attention of
his fellows to some of the silly cus-
toms practiced by the male good dress-
er, we might consider ourselves on the
road to a saner condition socially.
SANCTUM SIFTINGS
COTTON CREDITS ARE URGENT.
Houston Post.
Unless some arrangement is made
soon for extending long credits to Eu-
ropean buyers of cotton, the South
seems doomed to a very unprofitable
cotton season this year. Great Britain
may be able to take its usual quota
of the American supply of raw cotton,
but it is the only one of the larger
cotton manufacturing countries that
can do- so, and if the demand from
Germany and the interior countries is
to be held in abeyance another year
for lack of credit arrangements, the
South is going to have a big surplus
of cotton on its hands, unprofitable
prices are inevitable, and prosperity in
this section of the nation will be ma-
terially lessened.
President Wilson has been asked by
President Wannamaker of the Ameri-
can Cotton association to call a con-
ference of financial interests to ar-
range credits for Europe. Earlier ef-
forts of the cotton interests to form
a. credit association having failed, there
is urgent need that some steps be
taken in a national way to prevent
stagnation of business in the South
through keeping the outlet for the
South's chief crop open.
The South is more interested pri-
marily in a conference to provide the
credit arrangements that will move cot-
ton than it is labor and wage confer-
ences, because prosperity of the South
rests largely upon cotton. The presi-
dent is much occupied with weighty
matters, it is true, but he can not
afford to ignore the plea of the great
cotton growing interests of the South
for help in reopening European mar-
kets for cotton.
The South looked confidently to the
end of the war and the signing of
the peace treaty because it believed
European countries that had been un-
der blockade would be in position to
resume buying cotton. The fine hopes
of both the cotton growers and their
European customers have failed to
materialize, not because of a lack of
need for cotton in Europe or lack of
inclination to buy, but for lack of
financial credit to enable them to buy.
This situation has been holding mil-
lions of bales of cotton in this country
for months, and with the new crop
coming on to add to the heavy surplus
from last year, alarm in the South is
justifiable.
The South must have the financial
help of the nation in solving this prob-
lem, and the earlier the president acts
the better it will be for this country
and for the improvised countries of Eu-
rope waiting to buy our surplus.
The Call of the Offshore Wi
By Ralph D. Paine
631
• *
Copyright 1918 by Ralph D. Paine. All rights reserved.
Printed by permission of and by special arrangement
with Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York.
"Never mind that. Who were those
other brokers acting for?"
“Ask me an easy one. At a guess,
it was the same party that stood be-
hind Captain Jonathan Hardy in Bos-
ton and Portland. They pretended to
quit, but just steered off for a while
until you made your next move. It is
smooth work, and if my advice is
worth anything, you will let it alone.”
Mr. Runlett questioned and blus-
tered, but even his abuse was half-
hearted. The broker listened with a
cynical smile which hinted that, in
this instance, the smart managing
owner had foundered beyond his
depth and would do well to scramble
for the shore. This was the unhap-
py conclusion of Amos Runlett him-
self when he returned to his office and
found upon his desk telegrams from
three different brokers, begging for
pieces of Wetherell schooners. There
was a rush to get aboard, said one of
them. Long after the clerks had
climber from their stools and departed
for the day, the astute Mr. Runlett
covered sheets of' paper with figures
or absently stared out of the window.
Some unknown agency had tossed a
monkey-wrench into the machinery.
In striking contrast was the care-
free aspect of Captain Joseph Dabney,
of Norfolk, who, at this same hour, was
in a sleeping-car homeward-bound
from New York. As the individual
who had wantonly hurled the monkey-
wrench, he appeared to feel more pride
than remorse. When he disembarked
next morning, his vivacious daughter,
Ivy, Belle, met him in a shiny, new
roadster and demanded, as they sped
toward the water-side:—
“Did you whip-saw him, dad? I
have missed you frightfully, and send-
ing Terry on ahead to comfort me was
just too thoughtful for words. He
was wild to wait for the latest news,
but he had to take the Undaunted to
sea this morning.”
“It was Terry’s performance, honey.
All I did was to put on the finishin’
touches and supply the necessary
banking facilities.- Yes, we come
mighty near taking his schooners away
from Amos Runlett, we sho’ly did.
When I figured out the returns, I
found I owned more in several of ’em
than he did.”
“What about Dudley Fenwick's
Elizabeth Wetherell? How much of
her did you burgle?”
“Amos owned seventy per cent of
her,” chuckled Captain Joe. "Miss
Wetherell and a few small owners held
the balance. I pried poor old Amos
loose from most of his and secured
options on the little pieces in Boston.
When Dudley gets the fifth interest
that’s cornin’ to him in salvage, I rec-
kon he and I will be managing owners-
of the Elizabeth.”
“Splendid! And what will you do
with your shares in the other schoon-
ers, dad?” cried Ivy Belle.
“Smile and look on, child, until I
find out what Amos had up his sleeve
when Terry smoked him out. I bought
’em cheap and I can’t lose. And I
didn’t skin a single widow or orphan,
but I do flatter myself that I peeled
the hide off Amos Runlett, the sho’t-
card sport. I’m in about three hun-
dred thousand dollars’ worth of ves-
sels at a cost of less than half of
that.”
a
“And now are you sure that Terry is
safe and sane business man?” urged
whom this was the vital
Ivy Belle, to
issue. "Isn’t he fit to be trusted
ashore?”
“I’ll snatch him off that tow-boat
next month, child, for keeps. Mighty
little good it will do you, though. I
understand he fell in love with a
Spring Haven girl—Miss Eldredge.
What do you know about that?”
“Pooh! He never even met her—
afraid of Dudley Fenwick’s wrath. He
confessed to me. that he sat in the li-
brary and admired her. That was aw-
ful enough, but I forgave him.”
Terry had gone to sea in response to
a message from the signal station at
the capes that a six-masted schooner
was waiting for a tow-boat. When he
steamed close enough to recognize the
Elizabeth Wetherell, he blew the
whistle in a jubilant greeting to Dud-
ley Fenwick. Ranging alongside, how-
ever, he noticed a white crew on deck
and Captain Wesley Amazeen giving
orders. Fearing bad news, Terry leaped
aboard and introduced himself to the
lean old skipper, who said as they
shook hands:—
“I know all about you, Cap’n Coch-
ran. Dudley told me you were a friend
of his. Better let your boat go ahead
with the hawser and you come below
with me.”
Terry nodded and they passed into
the cabin. He dared not ask what had
become of Fenwick. Wesley Amazeen
closed the doors and spoke with a kind
of weighty solemnity.
"I was to tell you or Cap’n Joe Dab-
ney, whichever I chanced to meet. Dud-
ley knew there’d be curious questions
asked in Norfolk and you could stand
’em off. He is hangin’ on the edge of
life and death at Guantanamo where I
left him. Shot by a sailor on the voy-
age down. Do you happen to recall
the nigger, name o’ Gus Henderson?”
“Yes; he had a police record. He was
in a boat of mine some time ago. What
did you do to him?”
“He disappeared, Cap’n Cochran, and
I set the rest of ’em ashore in Cuby.
They are logged as deserters. It was
mutiny. I propose to spin the whole
yarn to you, same as Dudley Fenwick
commanded me.”
Terry listened, his chin in his hand,
while the schooner moved quitely in the
wake of the Undaunted. An hour pass-
ed before Wesley Amazeen halted to
take from his coat a worn leather wal-
a creased,
let and carefully unfold
heightened the charm of her fine fea-
tures. “The sea is full of magical sur-
prises that couldn’t possibly be true
Captain William Dodge had written the on land. The first six-masted schoon-
ers were built when I was a little girl.
stained, and ragged sheet of paper.
It
was the page from the log upon which
last words that came from him.
“Dudley wanted me to fetch this
home,” said the skipper, glancing over
his spectacles, “and I was to show it
to you. Read it yourself.”
Terry persued the brief routine state-
ment which assumed all responsibility
for abandoning the ship, and just above
the signature the farewell lines:—
I hereby commend Mr. Fenwick and
believe him qualified to be given com-
mand of a vessel. My wife wishes to
be kindly remembered to him.
Terry Cochran stared at the sheet of
paper while his mind framed, clause by
clause, the indictment that stood
against Amos Runlett. It made the
plot to thwart him financially seem
small and futile, punishment inade-
quate beside this unbreakable chain of
circumstances.
“’Tis strange and wonderful, Cap’n
Amazeen,” said he, “how a man s sins
will follow and trip him. I will speak
freely because you have trusted me.
I have learned many things about Amos
Runlett in the town that raised him.
He is highly respectable, what the
landsman calls a pillar of society. The
clergy give him the glad hand and par-
ents model their children after him.
In the sight of you and me, he has be-
haved like a blackguard and worse.
For lack of this bit of paper from
Cap’n Dodge, Runlett fought against
giving Fenwick what belonged to him.”
“Dudley is more anxious to clear his
own character,” broke- in Wesley Ama-
zeen, “than he is to collect his salvage.
After he was shot, he took a sort of
horror to money as the root of all evil.”
“It bred sorrow enough in this ves-
sel,” mused Terry. “One man is dead
of it, and Fenwick looking over the
brink as you say. And your own
schooner gone to glory, Cap n Ama-
zeen. No insurance? How much does
Dudley lose on her?”
“The'Anne was too old to insure. Not
that she’d sell for anything, bust she
was worth fifteen thousand to Dudley
and me. With decent freights that was
a reasonable figger for her.”
“What could she earn, Cap’n Ama-
zeen, before the dull times?”
“Two thousand clear, half to me and
half to,Israel Fenwick as owner. We
was both satisfied with that. And she
could ha’ done it again.”
“No doubt. Fifteen thousand dol-
lars! On top of Dudley’s salvage claim.
The bill against Amos Runlett is al-
most doubled. But it is not to be meas-
ured in terms of dollars. What will
you do with this precious bit of paper
from the dead?”
“If Dudley Fenwick dies,” answered
the skipper, “I’ll have a talk with Amos
Runlett that will make his soul turn
over, or I* miss my guess.”
“Going home at once, sir?”
“Yes; and my own crew with , me.
And Alfred the cook, swears he’s done
with the vessel. Mr. Strawn’ll stay to
look after her until orders come from
Bortland.”
“Dudley may never want to sail in
her again,” ventured Terry. “Too many
ghosts aboard.”
“Would you blame him, Cap’n Coch-
ran? She reeks of unhappiness.”
“She stinks of the greed for money,”
fiercely declared Terry, “from the day
that Cap’n William Dodge overloaded
her with coal and drove her to her doom
in a nor’easter. And if it had been left
to Dudley Fenwick, she would still be a
sweet, contented ship with no blot on
her good name.”
CHAPAER XV
High Finance Strikes the Rocks.
Kate Eldredge had been oftener in
Dudley Fenwick’s thoughts than she
has appeared in this story of his ad-
ventures at sea. The current of her
life in Spring Haven was violently dis-
turbed when Wesley Amazeen and his
crew came home from Norfolk with
their tragic tidings.* Her chubby un-
cle, Captain Elmer Gallant, had refitted
his schooner, the Mary Fenwick, and
was about to sail from the shipyard.
It was Ellery H. Titus, president of
the bank, who furnished the money
from the funds secretly advanced by)
Terry Cochran, but this, of course, was
for nobody to know, and Mr. Titus was
fervently thanked as a true and loyal
friend.
At this same time Dudley’s other
more pressing obligations were paid in
full. This had the effect of quieting
the scandal stirred up by the protested
checks, the Ellery Titus pompously
took to himself the favorable comment
of the town. The Fenwick yard was a
hopeless investment, but he had come
to the rescue in order to clear its long
and honorable reputation.
As a farewell ceremony Captain El-
mer Gallant invited his beloved niece
aboard the Mary Fenwick before he
hoisted sail with the turn of the morn-
ing tide. He lived in a toy cabin com -
pared with that of a six-master, but
it was bright and cosy, reflecting his
own abounding good-humor. The mate
had gone ashore, and it was a very
small party of two that sat down to
the baked beans and brown bread of
Saturday night. Having said grace and
tuckea nis napkin under his chin, Cap-
tain Elmer heartily exclaimed:—
“I wish Dudley was here to join the
celebration, Kate. I seem like a dis-
couragin’ proposition when he went
away, tied up to the wharf for lack of
canvas. About time we heard from this
Cuban trip of his. And Wesley Ama-
zeen in the Anne Dudley was reported
as leavin’ Havana some time ago.
Kind of odd if they should speak each
other.”
"Not half so odd as the things that
have happened to you and your
friends,” said Kate, with the slow, re-
flective smile which wonderfully
There were only two of them afloat,
you remember, when they collided in a
fog. With all that waste, of empty
ocean they had to come together.
“Seemed as if there was room for
two of ’em,” said Uncle Elmer.
A sea-roughened voice, familiar to
both, startled them as Wesley Amazeen
shouted from the doorway:
How about room for another one?
I stopped at the house to see Aunt
Mary Fenwick and she asked me to
supper, but I saw the cabin lit up and
kept on coming. Glad to know you re
done hibernatin’, Elmer, you old wood-
chuck. How are you, Kate? Kiss your
wicked old uncle by adoption. Last
time we met in the yard, I was busy
leadin’ Cap’n Gallant into the presence
of strong drink.”
“And I rescued him from your evil
influence, Captain Wesley,” laughed
Kate, dutifully saluting his wrinkled
cheek. “Let me set a plate and—”
"Make him talk first,” sternly inter-
rupted Captain Elmer. “Did you ever
watch him eat? He goes at it single-
minded.”
Wesley Amazeen lost his boisterous
manner and seemed not to hear this
uncomplimentary remark. He gazed
at the girl for a moment and awk-
wardly patted her hand. Perhaps Dud-
ley Fenwick had mentioned her during
those days of suffering in the Eliza-
beth Wetherell. Then he told them,
very much as he had related the tale
of disaster to Terry Cochran, but with
even more feeling. Elmer Gallant fre-
quently broke in with ejaculations of
pity and astonishment, but Kate El-
dredge sat silent, her hands tightly
clasped, a brooding sorrow in her dark
eyes.
“Seems as if Dudley deserved better
luck, Wesley,” said Elmer Gallant.
“That day he talked to us,—after Is-
rael’s funeral,—we thought' nothing
could stop him. I feel kind of guilty
for recommendin’ him to go as mate in
the Elizabeth.”
“He had your fault—trying to find
more good in people than there really
was,” was the retort.
“It’s somewheres in the worst of
’em,” Elmer gently insisted,,—“even
in your vindictive old carcass. What
are you going to do for another ves-
sel?”
“Nobody want me in a schooner,” re-
plied Wesley, “though I don’t show my
age and can whale the tar out of most
of the youngsters. I guess I’ll rest a
little spell ashore and mebbe there’ll
be some repair work here in- the yard
that I can lend a hand with.
“That’s good, Wesley. John Moon
tells me he thinks of start’n’ up again
without waiting for Dudley. It seems
there’s a little money in the bank he
can use, so Ellery Titus says.”
These two veteran seafarers had
been boys together and the talk flowed
on into the evening while Kate El-
dredge harkened, now with amuse-
ment, again touched and moved by
their.brave simplicity and affection
for each other, although Wesley Ama-
zeen abused and insulted her rosy
saint of an uncle. It was Wesley who
escorted her through the shipyard and
down the quiet street to the boarding
house. At parting, he said in a fath-
erly way:—■
“It seems to mean considerable to
Dudley Fenwick that you are a friend
of his, Kate. He’s no great match,
mebbe, if he comes home alive, with
this condemned old shipyard tied to
him and his mind made up to quit sail-
in’ for Amos Runlett. But he’s an in-
fernal good boy, and he’s had
devil’s own b'ilin' of misfortune.
the
"A good boy, Captain Wesley?”
whimsically echoed Kate. “I like your
way of putting it. Could he ask for
better credentials? It is rather soon to
discuss him as a matrimonial prospect,
but you are always in a hurry. You
were in the towboat office at Norfolk,
I presume. Did you happen to meet a
Miss Ivy Belle Dabney?”
“I did, and she’s a lively little piece
of goods. But what in blazes has she
got to do with my stickin’ in my oar
for Dudley Fenwick?”
“Nothing whatever. I merely wanted
to hear your opinion of her.”
“Well, you’re more to my taste, Kate.
Poetry and Persiflage
LITTLE HAPPY WAYSIDE THINGS.
Life is not made of great events.
The splendid heights are in a haze
Too far for happy nights and days—
But they are still the sources whence
Sweet streams come down to make the
plain
Fertile and fresh and fair again.
A life that too sedately clings
To little, happy wayside things
Must be renewed, from time to time,
With pulses from the larger rhyme
Of things supreme and out of reach
Of common thoughts and deeds and
speech.
So, more and more as time goes by,
Teach thou they winged self to fly,
That more and more the wealth it
brings,
From broader vistas, gathered high.
May sweeten, light and glorify
The little,chappy wayside things.
—David Morrow in the Boston Trans-
cript.
From Louisville comes the informa-
tion that 200,000 railway and steamship
men have been ordered to take a strike
vote. Wonder how many steamship
men vote at Louisville.
The steel workers have voted not to
be workers.
Anyhow, D’Annuncio will not be hu-
miliated by any Fiume newspaper de-
clining his poems.
Emma Goldman is going to be sent
back to Russia. Rush her.
Talk about your daylight saving, it
hasn’t anything on the miners’ proposi-
tion to work six hours a day for five
days.
It is got so now that a man with two
pairs of shoes is classed with the fel-
low who rides in a Sedan.
A campaign has been begun in Kan-
sas for the elimination of the railroad
crossing. We suppose that hereafter
when a railroad comes to a crossing, :
instead of proceeding it will go around, j
It takes two persons to make a good
husband, a wife and a husband, and
that’s why there are not more good
husbands.
As some of the striking Boston po-
licemen were ex-soldiers it is probable
that beans were the real cause of the
walkout.
At least the senate was considerate
enough not to put any reservations on
General Pershing.
The reason the British people get
along so well is they have no national
constitution; if they had one, it would
probably provide for a senate.
There is compensation in all things
if we will only look for it; Mexican
bandits have not raided Texas for a
week or more; the Rio Grande is on a
boom.
The Cincinnati minister who prayed
for the success of the home ball team
apparently realized that the Reds need-
ed outside aid in their coming struggle
for the world pennant.
Taft would not make a good senator,
he knows when to stop talking.
The explanation is offered that as
the German soldiers did not cut down
enough trees while in France and Bel-
Doctor—“My dear sir, it’s a good
thing you came to me when you did.”
“Why, Doc? Are you broke?”—Life.
“My uncle left me only $5,000. Won-
der if I could break his will?”
“Sure thing! He must have been
I don’t fancy ’em too pert and flighty.
Cap’n Terry Cochran is mighty sweet
on this Ivy Belle girl, and the old man
don’t seem to hate the idea, I should
say they were near due to make a
double hitch of it.”
“Thank you so much, Captain Wes-
ley. And you will be sure to bring me
any word you may hear from. Guan-
tanamo?”
“If I have to toss a brick through
your window to wake you in the middle
of the night.”
To Spring Haven came Mr. Amos
Runlett next day in search of this
exasperating Captain Amazeen who had
brought the Elizabeth Wetherell into
Norfolk and there deserted her with no
more than an impetinent telegram
worded as follows:
“Fetched your ship home and left the
mate in charge. I know better than to
claim salvage. You can’t squeeze blood
out of a turnip.”
It appepared as though Mr. Runlett
might be unpopular with Captain Ama-
zeen and his crew, for not a solitary
soul of them could be found, although
he naked Spring Haven from one end
to the other. It was also a fair con-
jecture that they saw him first. Of the
men who had sailed with Fenwick, only
Alfred, the cook, was a possible in-
formant. He had tarried in the town
to visit those second cousins once re-
moved. After a most annoying chase,
Mr. Runlett ran him to earth in a bar-
ber shop. Alfred turned pale beneath
the latter when the mirror disclosed the
forbidding image of the managing
owner, who scowled at him and com-
manded the barber to make a quick job
of it.
There was no way of escape, and
presently the cook obeyed a beckoning
finger and meekly followed his captor
to a room in the .bank building near by.
The smooth-shaven countenance, large
and bland, wore an air of injured inno-
cence. Captain Wesley Amazeen had
successfully frightened him into hold-
ing his tongue, no mean achievement,
and Alfred fuly believed that the old
pirate would kill him on sight if he
told anything whatever above the voy-
age. He was therefore prepared to
perjure himself, if necessary.
“Where is Captain Fenwick, and
crazy to leave you anything.”—Boston'
Transcript.
How soon the prominent ones drop
out of sight; even the paragraphers
have forgotten all about Bela Kun.
German factories have been compelled
to shut down because of lack of fuel;
the miners’ strike must have crossed
the Rhine.
The End of a Perfect Month.
(Pardon me, Alfred).
Broke, broke broke,
At the end of the month, O Gee!
And I would that I had some butter
And toast for my, water and tea.
O, well for the butcher man’s boy
That he shouts so sinister to pay,
O, well for the tailor, too,
That he wants back my coat of gray.
And the stately dollars go on
To the craven who sends the bill, -
But O! for the touch of a vanished hand
That borrowed and owes me still!
Broke, broke, broke,
At the end of the month, O Gee!
Will the tender taste of a real round
steak
Now ever come back to me?
• —St. Louis Times.
A bootlegger was recently arrested
in Washington charged with selling tea
for $7 a quart and telling his purchasers
that it was whiskey; any “purchaser”
who couldn’t tell the difference should
never enter a complaint.
The meter—equal to 39.37 inches—
was determined by taking one ten-
millionth part of the quadrant of the
meridian measured between the equa-
tor and the pole. Then by estimating
the meter’s length in multiples and
sub-multiples of 10, the-untis above
and below are determined. Did you
ever imagine the metric system' was so
easy to understand?
Small Town Sleuthery.
(From the Champaign Gazette.)
The police are in possession of the
two thieves, but they have not been
caught as yet.
“What about my case?”
“You are only techincally guilty,”
said the lawyer.
“As for your being in jail—”
“It’s a mere technicality, I know,
but how about getting me out?”—Kan-
sas City Journal.
A Friendly Plot.
“You will need a trained nurse for
Mrs. Jibway.”
“Certainly, doctor. I’ll attend to
that right away,” said Mr. Jibway.
“Speaking as an old friend of the
family, I can tell you how to hasten
Mrs. Jibway’s recovery.”
“How?”
“Engage the prettiest nurse you can
find and show her a little attention in
the sick room. We’ll have Mrs. Jibway
on her feet in a jiffy.”—Birmingham
Age-Herald.
“Did you pay my little brother to
remain out of te parlor?” she asked.
“Yes. I hope I was not presuming.”
“You were not. But if you paid him I
won’t.” They’re engaged now.—Seat-
tle Post-Intelligencer.
“Well, Mrs. Comeup, did your din-
ner suit you? Did you get quantium
sufficit?” “Oh, you couldn’t get any-
thing like that in this town. It’s local
option.”—Baltimore American.
“Was I drinking too much at the
club last night?” “Not at all.” “But
didn’t I get a trifle to the bad?” “A
trifle mixed, we might say. You were
telling about a fish you landed which
had large antlers.”——Judge.
what’s the answer to Wesley Ama-
zeen?” hotely demanded Mr. Runlett,
walking the flood.
“Cap’n Dudley Fenwick?” pleasantly
inquired Alfred. “Oh, yes.
come home with us,- did he.
sort of slipped my mind.
He didn’t
I guess it
Well, Mr.
Runlett, he didn’t impart his plans to
me—which you wouldn’t expect, dis-
cipline bein’ strict aboard—but my
idea is that he stayed in Cuba for his
health. Yes, sir, he needed a change of
air and scenery.”
“You oakum-headed old fool! What
are you driveling about?”
“About Cap’n Dudley Fenwick,” rea-
sonably answered Alfred.
“Was there any trouble aboard the
Elizabeth?”
“Nothing that I consider worth men-
tionin’, Mr. Runlett. The crew stayed
in Cuba, too, if that interests you. You
save a trip’s wages on ’em.”
“I wish you had stayed there,” was
the irritable comment. “Did Wesley
Amazeen and his men work the ship
home? Did they fall out of a balloon?”
“By gracious, Mr. Runlett, I shouldn’t
wonder if they did. It was after dark
and I was busy with a deck-mop, so I
didn’t notice particularly. I nevei
thought of a balloon. It takes a clever
man to figger out things like that.”
“You are lying, Alfred, lying like a
trooper to cover something up,” cried
the owner, conscious that he had made
not the slightest progress.
“It ain’t gentlemanly to call a man
a liar with no deck-mop handy,” earn-
estly protested the cook. “I’m not
workin’ for you any longer, I want yon
to understand, Mr. Amos Runlett, and
if we can’t act like gentlemen it’s good
afternoon. Go read the ship’s log.
That’s official.”
“I’ll get at the bottom of this, and
make it hot for all hands of you!” was
the vehement threat.
“I’m inclined to think you’ll hear
enough about it sooner or later,” said
Alfred. “There was another time when
I helped bring your big schooner into .
port. Recolelct it. You called us liars,
or words to that efefect. It’s a careless
habit with you. Funny how I’ve got
all oevr bein’ scared of you, in the last
few minutes.”
: (To Be Continued).
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Galveston Tribune. (Galveston, Tex.), Vol. 39, No. 257, Ed. 1 Monday, September 22, 1919, newspaper, September 22, 1919; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1643608/m1/4/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Rosenberg Library.