) (Continued from last week). SYNOPSIS CHAPTER L—Winton Garrett, twen- ty-five and just out of college, calls by pointment on Archie Garrett, his New ork cousin and executor, to receive 8 inheritance of $100,000. Archie, nest, an easy mark and a fool for uck, assures Winton that he is prac- tically a millionaire, as he has invested ju but $10,000 in a rubber plantation n either the East or West Indies and in a controlling interest in the Big Malopo diamond mine, somewhere or other in South Africa, sold him as a special favor by a Dutch promoter mamed De Witt. CHAPTER IIL.—Winton, en route to fis mine, finds the town of Taungs wildly excited over a big strike at Malopo, including the 95-carat “De Witt diamond.” Two coach passengers are 8 disreputable old prospector, Daddy Beaton, and his daughter Sheila. On the journey a passenger, who turns out to be De Witt himself, insults Sheila. Winton fights De Witt and knocks him eut. Sheila tells him to turn back. She Says that her father is a broken Eng- fish army officer, who has killed a man nd is therefore in De Witt's power, nat De Witt is all-powerful, being cked by Judge Davis, president of the diamond syndicate and also the gesident magistrate and judge of the mative protectorate. CHAPTER III.—Winton finds Malopo fn a turmoil, both over the strike and the theft of the De Witt diamond. Win- ton foolishly discloses his identity to Sam Simpson, a Jamaican negro, sub- editor of the local newspaper. He more wisely confides in Ned Burns, watch- man at the Big Malopo, who tells him that the syndicate has planned to take eontrol of the mine the next morning. CHAPTER IV.—Winton finds that Pheila is cashier at the restaurant. He Qifery his friendship. She rebuffs him. an Vorst, a notorious diamond thief, one of De Witt’s men, slips the stolen De Witt diamond into Winton’s pocket and two policemen club Winton and arrest him. He escapes them and when at his last gasp Sheila takes him fnto her house, bathes his wounds and saves him from his pursuers. CHAPTER V.—The next morning Sheila offers Winton help in escaping from Malopo. He convinces her with difficulty that he did not steal the De Witt diamond and that he is president of the Big Malopo company. Bruised and blood-stained he runs across town, breaks by force into the company meet- ing, and aided by a popular demonstra- tion proves his identity, blocks the re- srganization and takes control. He asks Sheila to marry him. She laughs hysterically and refuses him. CHAPTER VI.—Winton hires Seaton as compound manager and develops Big Malopo. Judge Davis, a philosophical old hypocrite of unknown past, offers him the syndicate’s co-operation. “Oth- erwise, he says, “we’ll smash you, you é—d young fool.” CHAPTER VIIL—Winton, infuriated by a scurrilous newspaper article about Bheila and himself, knocks Sam down and publicly threatens Judge Davis. He finds Sheila about to elope with De Witt, to save her father. He horsewhips De Witt. Sheila again refuses to marry him and says she is going away, never to see him or her father again. CHAPTER VIII.—Winton hires Sam as night watchman. Van Vorst's gang steal the De Witt diamond. Winton Jiirsnes Van Vorst, who escapes with e big stone. CHAPTER IX.—Winton is rescued by Sheila, on her way to a native village. There she kisses an old woman, only partly white, and says, “This is my mother.” He again asks her to marry him. She refuses him, because of the race bar. Heartsick, he sets out for Malopo with a native guide. CHAPTER X.—Winton succumbs. His guide robs and deserts him. Sam res- cues him. Burns's brain is affected; he cannot tell what happened. The work- ers in the mine return no stones. Win- ton is forced to borrow money from the syndicate, agreeing to pay in a month or lose the mine. He opened a drawer of Lis desk and pulled out a faded photograph of a comely young woman. He flung it down before Winton. : “A young man married and a young man marred,” he said with a concen- trated bitterness that astonished Win- ton again, and touched his heart as well. The judge's chest heaved, and he pushed his throat convulsively out of his high collar. As he did so Winton saw a round scar, like a bullet wound, in the side of his neck, of a flaming red. “She left me for another man,” sald the judge. “If I had found him 1 should have killed him.” He took up the photograph and re- placed it in the drawer. Winton had not spoken, “I don't know why I told you this, young man,” he said. because I find you interesting. You have so little common sense, and yet you are not a fool. The money will be repaid one month from today, or the shares pass to the syndicate. I can- not, unfortunately, charge you broker- age, because I have not a broker's license,” He wrote out the check, and handed it to Winton, who pocketed it and held out his hand. “Good day, judge,” he said. “Good day, my dear young friend,” said the judge, resuming his quaver. “Wait a minute! I can’t charge you brokerage, but there's a sixpenny stamp on the transfer. I'll sell yov one, Thank you!” CHAPTER XI Sam’s Dance. The month passed, and the find of stones was negligible. This did not necessarily augur ill for the future of the claim. Only the surface of the blue ground had been investigated, and it required an exposure of the blue “Perhaps it is. joc : = » ROUSSEAWL ® VICTOR. COPYRIGHT 4¥ W.G.CHAPMAN rock to sun and air for weeks in order to permit of proper disintegration. The crushing of the excavated material had been a makeshift, inspired by urgency. But stones should have been found, and only a few small pebbles had come to light. Three days before the month ex- pired Winton received a letter from Judge Davis, in his capacity as a shareholder, requesting him to call a meeting in order to discuss certain subjects of importance. Winton ad- vertised the meeting in the Chronicle, set his teeth, and prepared for the in- evitable. The day arrived. He found himself at the table with Davis, De Witt, Han- son, and the four small shareholders. The transfer had been made irrevo- cable. He held forty-seven shares, and : the syndicate with Hanson, the same number. The local men, with their six shares, thus controlled the situation, | and their decision was not in doubt. Winton went to the meeting in the full expectation of being ousted and - of seeing De Witt reinstalled as purser. He had steeled himself to bear the humiliation, but the severance of his relations with the claim, the end of the enterprise so far as he was concerned, was difficult to face, And there would be Ned out of employment—Ned, still in the hospital, though physically well, in the hope that something could be done for him; Ned, greeting Winton with his mysterious nods and smiles and Bible passages, and believing that his references. were understood. The hostile atmosphere of the meet- ing, De Witt’s expression of triumph, and Hanson's vindictive glances con- vinced Winton that this move was about to be made. But Davis never did the obvious thing, and he had other ends in view. “Mr. Purser,” he said, “the proposi- tion to be placed before. this meeting is as follows: that we go into volun- tary liquidation for the purpose of an immediate reorganization, in order to raise fresh capital to'develop our water supply. “You have made frequent complaints that the flow of the company’s water is not adequate to the working of the claim. I can bear you out in this, for I have investigated the matter, and, heing interested both in the claim and in the water company, I have naturally done all that was possible to increase the flow. “The Big Malopo promises to be- come the most profitable claim upon the fields. The prosperity of all Ma- lopo is closely bound up with the water supply. By improving our water re- sources we shall not only promote fra- ternity and concord’—here the judge's voice assumed its quavering intona- tion, which in turn gave ay to the sharp business tone—“but shall enter into a very profitable business enter- prise. «Our water supply is at present | wholly dependent upon the under- ground storage accumulated during the preceding rainy season. A succession of two dry years would mean the total | cessation of all labor for months. Ob- |! viously we cannot remain at the mercy of the elements when”—he looked | about him for the anticipated approba- tion—*it is possible to tap the Groot- | spruit river and secure an unfailing supply throughout the year.” | A storm of applause greeted him as he sat down. Winton sprang to his feet. i “The Grootspruit is fifty miles away!” he cried. “What is your esti- mate of the cost of installing a plant and laying pipes across the desert?” “I have submitted the question to two competent engineers, Mr. Garrett,” answered the judge. “Their estimates are practically the same. They place the cost at, roughly, ninety thousand pounds. This will provide a sufficient flow for the entire mining field.” Winton sat down, stunned more at what lay behind the proposition than at the suggestion itself. If the syndi- cate was willing to invest as heavily as that, it meant that they were aware, in ways unknown to himself, that the Big Malopo was not merely a promis- ing claim, but one of the biggest out- side the famous Kimberley fields. For it was hardly likely that the syn- dicate was planning to cut the throat of its own water company, which could supply it with an ample quantity, in order to bring water for fifty miles across the desert. And the scheme meant, of course, that Winton would be frozen out completely, together with the little men, who had doubtless been let into the secret and had agreed to gell. He would own only an insignifi- cant number of shares in the reorgan- ized concern. Even if the proposal failed, the syn- dicate could install a new purser and instruct him to call for an unlimited expenditure which Winton would be unable to meet, They had him both ways. Yet he put up a fight, urging . the small ‘shareholders to stand up against the syndicate, instead of let- . . “ «8 He ! ting their interests pe swamped. . attacked Davis without scruple. ' unmollified, one vote only. “Mr. Purser, will you put the mo- | awful din of musical instruments was ! tion?” inquired Judge Davis when he ! making itself audible. The two men had ended. And the waverer cast in his lot with the syndicate after all, The motion passed by fifty-three to forty-seven. It was not until he found himself | ing a bright light into the farthest cor- 1. boys ate and gathered after their work His | was over, and a second, divided into { words were bitter. One of the smaller | partitioned sections, in which the na- men was wavering, but he controlled | tives were housed according to their i upon the street again that Winton | realized he was still purser. He rea- soned that the syndicate did not need to dispossess him until the reorganiza- tion had been effected in a few days’ time. Then, of course, De Witt would step into his shoes. | i When he got back to the claim every- | thing looked different to him. work, which had been in the nature of The a duty, suddenly seemed an integral part of his life. It occurred to him for the first time that, without it, he would have no longer any reason for remain- : ing in Malopo. And the thought was a staggering one. ' triangle. Without home ties, he had uncon- sciously begun to assimilate to him- self the atmosphere of the little desert town. A thousand daily scenes, in- sensibly built into his being, now seemed a part of him and claimed him. He did not know what he was going to do. However, an unexpected program had been arranged for him. Sam, who, though degraded from his cherished and short-lived job, had never ceased to take an interest in the compound natives, was loitering near the door of the cottage, evidently with the de- sign of intercepting him. “Want me, Sam?’ asked Winton. «I was hoping, sir, that you might be willing to be a guest at our musicale tonight,” answered Sam, grinning a little sheepishly. “Explain,” said Winton. “well, Mr. Garrett, you will recall that I have occasionally expressed the view that the Bantu does not differ in a psychological sense from the Cau- casian. My theory, to which you have offered a tacit opposition, is that it is their environment alone which has kept these natives down. I have been endeavoring to disseminate certain social ideas among them.” “So that explains the ungodly noise I’ve heard lately, Sam?” For several weeks past the natives of the Big Malopo compound appeared to have been practicing on a variety of musical instruments ranging from the humble concertina up to the clarinet. The discords had been maddening, but Winton had hoped the craze would pass. : “I think, sir, that our ear has be- come attuned,” said Sam with dignity. “All right,” said Winton. “When does the show begin?” “At seven o'clock, sir,” Sam, “I'll be there,” said Winton, He was cooking supper in his room when Josephs tapped at the door. The little man wore an expression of con- siderable anxiety, mingled with dis- gust. “Mr. Garrett,” he began, “hzre’s where I get out. . You'd better look for another compound manager quick.” “What's the trouble?’ Winton in- quired. “It’s that nigger Sam, Mr. Garrett. He told me you'd given him leave to experiment with the boys in the in- terest of science, or something, and I've stood by and seen as good a lot of boys turning into shiftless loafers as I've ever seen. But I've reached my limit with musical evenings.” “Josephs, I kicked Sam out of the job because he was making himself a nuisance. I left the management of the compound exclusively to you.” “Well, I'm out,” answered Josephs, “unless this sanitary science business comes to an end right now. Do you know that we're the laughing stock of the fields, Mr. Gar- rett? I ain't a difficult man to get along with, but I draw the line at musical swarries for wild niggers that was throwing spears at each other answered three months ago and stalking bush- buck on their bellies.” “You're right, Josephs. I gave Sam no permission to interfere with the boys in any way, and I'm satisfied to leave you in full charge.” “That's all right,” grumbled Jo- sephs, “but this is Saturday night, and they ain't been searched. For all we know, every one of them d—n niggers may have a pint of stones about him. Sam told me you hadn't begun search- ing them yet, and you was trying to put them on their honor, or some such * be a massacre unless they're got under Sunday school story, and I've been try- ing to ask you about it for days, and been put off.” “I've been pretty busy, Josephs. Of course the boys will have to be searched. But we haven't begun wash- ing yet, to any extent.” “Mr. Garrett, there's been more dig- ging and washing than you know, And | I don’t like the look of them tunnels Now, sir, it on the syndicate claim. comes to this: either I run the com- pound as it ought to be run, and Sam Simpson keeps outside, or you get an- other manager.” “I accept your terms,” said Winton. “Do whatever you consider right. However, tonight Sam's got to have | tribal dances were being enacted. Men i | | i | full swing, because I gave him my promise. And don’t worry, Josephs, because you may have another purser more to your liking in a little while.” “1 hope not, , Garrett,” answered the manager. “There ain't a man I'd rather work for than you. But you're too easy.” After a little more talk Winton suc- ceeded In pacifying Josephs, and he persuaded him to come to the com- pound with him and see what Sam had been doing. They went there at the appointed | - “Do you see what you've done, you hour. The compound buildings con- sisted of a large structure in which the phone the police from my office. | several tribes. From the former an entered, and stopped on the threshold as if petrified. The walls were decked with flags. A large lamp hung from the roof, throw- ners. Thirty or forty savages were formed in a double line along the floor. Each one war attired in a full-dress suit, with starched bosom, white collar and tie. Each man wore a pair of patent-leather shoes and white socks. Half a dozen native women were pres- ent, one or two with graceful colored handkerchiefs over their frizzly locks, but the rest wearing discerded hats of various shapes. Their apparel was of rainbow hues. At the end of the hall was an orchestra, consisting of two fiddles, a cello, two clarinets, two flutes, a drum, three trombones, and a At Winton’s appearance the band struck up “God Bless the Prince of Wales,” and, to cap the climax, every man produced a pair of bones and | tapped out the tune. Sam came up to Winton, his black face beaming over his expansive shirt- front, He wore the aspect of a magi-' cian who, having successfully produced a white rat, a pair of rabbits, and a plum pudding out of an opera hat, con- | fronts his audience, for its verdict. | But Winton could find no words, and it was Josephs who spluttered: | “What the—what—what the—" “My sentiments,” said Winton. | “You will see, Mr. Garrett, that my , theory was correct,” said Sam. “The | Bantu and the Caucasian, though ethnologically distinct sub-species of the genus homo, are, psychologically, brothers.” “D—n your brothers!” shrieked the | compound manager. “The boys are here to dig diamonds. Did you ever; stop to think of that, you black fool?” | He swung on his heel and stalked fu- | riously out of the compound. Then | Winton found his tongue. “What are these women doing here, | Sam?’ he demanded sharply. Sam rubbed his hands together. | “The softening and refining nL | ence of the feminine sex is not con- fined to the Caucasian,” he answered. Winton swore. The crowd had be- gun to dance. Sam had taught them the waltz, and the quick minds of the savages had grasped his instructions perfectly. But what interpretation did | these blacks place upon it? Dancing | and worship are synonymous among the lower races. Kor them it might mean some mystic ritual to tribal gods. He watched tlie savages revolving on the mud floor of the hall, which was quickly dissolving into a fine yellow dust that began to choke Winton's throat and veil the outlines of the mov- ing figures. Men were dancing with men, and women with women, and al- | ready they were beginning to grow ex- cited. Arms went up with the as- segai-flinging gesture. The shirtfronts, drenched with perspiration, had been wrenched open, showing the black’ bodies beneath. One or two cries were raised, and answered. ! Winton hurried away. The permis- sion, given, could hardly be withdrawn. But he had never dreamed that such | a scene was being rehearsed. Josephs, following the rule of not interfering | with the natives after hours, had been | bluffed by the egregious Sam into sup- posing that he was acting with Win- ton’s authority, Winton could never live down the story of the dance. it! would be associated as long as he was | in Malopo with his ignominious diss | missal from the purser’s post and loss of control. He went into his cottage and’sat! down. From there he could hear the | sounds as plainly as ever. They were | growing louder. The music had re- solved itself into a medley of notes that resembled nothing ever written. Each player was proceeding inde pendently, and the yells were deafen- ing. Half an hour passed. Josephs came in in intense excitement, carrying a whip. . “I'm going to stop that, Mr. Gar- rett,” he said furiously. “Do you know what it means? They'll break out of the compound in a few minutes and start plundering the stores. There'll. control.” “I'll go with you,” said Winton. As they approached the compound building the din was at its height. One look inside disclosed the fact that civilization was at an end. A dozen were dancing and swaying before the group of women, whooping and scream- ing as they went through their own immemorial ritual. The man with the drum had lost all self-control and was hammering it with all his might, send- ing out a deafening roll. The cellist had smashed his instrument on the head of one of the flutists, who was of a different tribe, and the man lay stunned, his skull half through the instrument, and the strings tangled about his neck. The trombones were blowing with all the power of their lungs, one Of the fiddlers had seized the other fiddler's instrument and was clashing them together, and the man with the triangle was striking it softly in a corner by himself and humming a negro love song, The place was a bedlam of trib factions suddenly come to life. Clothes ! littered the ground; natives were dis-- garding the second-hand .dress-suits, bought from some old-clothes store, and gyrating in their loin cloths. Winton saw Sam near the door, watching the scene in dumb terror. cursed fool?” he cried. “Run and tele: The whole of the fields will be in a riot in five minutes’ time.” Even Josephs hesitated to attack that yelling mob, in which a dozen fights had already started. But at that *Do you see what you've donex you cursed fool," he cried. moment salvation came. - It came In the shape-of an elderly man, with a - white beard and a shock of white hair, who came running across the com- pound, carrying a whip and a shotgun; and Winton had never been so glad to see Ned Burns before. With him were two or three Hotten- tots, also carrying whips, men who, de- spising the native tribes, had stayed sulkily away from Sam's entertain- ment. Ned, who had been let out of the hospital that afternoon, had made his way toward the shack, his only home. He had heard the uproar, and, not knowing the cause of it, had acted automatically, as he had been trained to do by years of experience with the natives. Emitting a yell that pierced the din like a fog-horn, he discharged the shot- gun into the legs immediately in front i of him, followed with the other barrel, and then, accompanied by Josephs and the Hottentots, waded into the throng. In half a minute the tribal passions, cooled under the stinging blows, gave place to order. The shrieking mob, penned up at one end of the room, howled for mercy, while Ned's whip rose and fell relentlessly, curling about the half-naked bodies and searching out each man with impartial dexterity. When at last he ceased the cower- ing natives had been reduced to abso- lute submission. He uttered a few crisp orders to his Hottentots, who began to herd the men into the compound, shouting at them in their various dialects. The fright- ened women had already fled through the gate. Winton, feeling decidedly subordi- nate, suffered Ned to give his direc- tions to his boys. Within a few minutes the natives, lined up in groups, were submitting to the most rigorous inspection devised. Mouths were pried open and tongues pulled up, clothing ripped open, heels broken off patent- leather dancing shoes. It was a weird | scene in the light of the full African moon, and one that impressed itself on Winton’s mind indelibly. He began to understand Van Beer's viewpoint better, and he realized as never before the volcano of savagery that slumbered beneath the veneer of civilization in Africa. When the search was at an end, and the natives had been driven into their sleeping quarters, Josephs and Ned came up to Winton, each holding out two handfuls of pebbles. Winton looked at them for some seconds be- fore he realized that they were large diamonds. He stared at them, and then at Ned; and suddenly he shook the old man by the shoulders. “Ned, you've got your speech back!” he shouted. “Do you know that? Speak, man!” Ned opened his mouth, and from his throat issued a succession of guttural clicks. It was Hottentot—Winton knew that, but no more, “Speak English, man!” he shouted. But Ned only looked at Winton mournfully. The blow upon the skull had shattered all but that corner of Broca’s convolution in which the Hot- tentot speech-center had been created. Hottentot Ned could speak; but that would be his sole tongue for the re- mainder of his years. He began talking rapidly to Jos sephs, who listened and translated. “He says, Mr. Garrett,” announced the compound manager, ‘that he warned you at the hospital, and thought you understood. He says that he had suspected Seaton of buying stones from the boys and selling them to De Witt through Van Vorst. He taxed him with it, and Seaton broke down and confessed. That was on the night of the robbery. Mr. Burns meant to tell you at once, but you had gone to bed early. Seaton must have got word to Van Vorst to finish the job OE —————— ton the claim might still be his. But how could he support a charge of fraud on the single evidence of Ned Burns, given in Hottentot? Suddenly Winton started back, star- ing through the shadows as if he had seen a ghost. An old man was coming unsteadily through the gateway. It was Seaton himself. He groped his way across the compound, bleary of eye, unsteady of gait, went up to Winton, and laid a trembling hand upon his arm. “I've come back,” he mumbled drunkenly. “My gal's gone, and I've done with this life of a dog. TIl be De Witt’s tool no longer. I've come back to take my medicine.” CHAPTER XII The Trial. It was the general opinion of the group upon the stoep of the Continen- tal that Judge Davis was going to get what had been coming to him for a long time. Bets to that effect were ' freely offered, and there were very that night, and next day it was too late.” Too late! The words echoed through : Winton’s brain. It had been too late from the beginning; for if he could have understood what Ned had tril to convey to him in the hospital he could have kept control of the Big Malopo. The double handful of stones would have brought him more than Davis had paid him; enough to have made the loan unnecessary. Now he was in the grasp of the syndicate, purser only | through Davis's tolerance; and that was doubtless extended for the present with some ul.erior object in view. Winton stared at the dull baubles. If only he could lay his hands upon Sea- few takers, even at long odds. The forthcoming trial was the sole topic of conversation in Malopo. Everything had combined to favor Winton against the syndicate. On the very day following Seaton’s return a long-expected proclamation had been made by the high commis- sioner, placing Malopo under the col- ony's jurisdiction, and delegating Judge Crawford, who was then hold- ing sessions at Vryburg, to proceed thither for the purpose of organizing a civil government and hearing all criminal and civil cases. The independent regime had come to an end, to the relief of the settle- ment, and Judge Davis was relegated to his position as magistrate, thereby being eliminated from the pending pro- ceedings. Public opinion in Malopo, linking up Seaton’s return and arrest with the theft of the big stone, was decidedly hostile to the syndicate. There was no fear of a packed jury. The syndi- cate’s influence seemed to have shrunk to nothing. : Winton’s lawyer was a young Scotchman named Brown, who had re- cently arrived on the diamond-fields; he threw himself into the case with ardor, knowing that success would be his making. Winton and he held con- stant conferences, winton had wished to use Seaton’s evidence to prosecute De Witt, but Seaton’s anxiety to have everything thrashed out was so great, and he cared so little what happened to him- self, that it was decided to arrest the oid man instead. This would enable him to tell his whole story, much of which might otherwise have been ruled out. It wus the general opinion that, when he had tinished, the syndi- cate would be in a bad way. Seaton had wandered iunio the des- ert and attempted to tind a domicile with one of tue tribes. But he had been set upon and badly Leacen, This treatment seemed to have aroused his long-dormant manhood. as a culmination to the suffering that he had endured in the past at De Witt's hands it seemed to have effected u change in the old man's i..urc. A sort of moral strengthening had come over Seaton in jaii. He had refused the prison doctor's prescription of liquor, and announced his intention of fighting De Witt to the bitter end. As the days went by the rumor be- gan to spread that Davis had quu.- reled with De Witt and refused to stand by him. Brown was of that opinion, “De Witt has known all the syndi- cate’s secrets for years, and done all its dirty work,” he said. “But Davis is too shrewd to have compromised himself. I believe he will be glad of the opportunity to break with De Witt.” “Why?” “When a rogue like Davis has used a lesser rogue for years, he’s apt to get tired of him. Davis is an old man and wants to keep his name clean, even at a pecuniary loss.” Winton thought over that aspect of the situation, but it seemed to him more or less immaterial. If he could win his fight and hold his claim, he meant to realize on it and return to his own country. He felt that he could no longer exist in the land where Sheila lived, dishonored and an out- cast. . He avoided visiting Seaton in jail, but Brown reported that the old man was holding firm in a surprising way. He had been approached by emissaries of the syndicate, and had refused to see them. A few nights before the trial opened Winton received a visit from the last person whom he had expected to see. It was De Witt himself, who came to his cottage just as he was about to retire. The man looked broken as he stood in the doorway, hat in hand. As Win- ton rose he came forward. flung it upon the table, and sat down in a chair, breathing heavily. “You think you've got me?’ he de- manded. “I hope so” (Cuaiinued next week). Pretty Poor Nourishment. An old negro from the back country, who was unused to modern methods In medicine, was sent to a hospital in Charleston. One of the nurses put a thermometer into his mouth to take his temperature. Presently when one of the doctors made hig rounds he asked : “Well, Nathan, how-do.you feel?” “I feel right tol'ble, huss.” “Have you had any nourishment?” “Yassir.” “What did you have?” The patient grinn:d. *“A lady done gimme a piece of g'ass to suck, boss.” —Everybody’s Maguzine.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers