6
f^SERIAL^
1/3 STORY
Ilangford
Ij o / the
L THREE L
! BARSS
r
[ KATE AND VIRGIL D. BOYLES I
(Copyright by A. C. ilcCiurg & Co., 1307.)
SYNOPSIS.
Cattle thieves despoiling ranches of
•vMith Dakota. George Williston, small
ratehm&n. runs into rendezvous of
rkievea on islam! in Missouri river. They
toe stolen cattle from Three Bar ranch.
lAn.irrord visits Williston and his daugh
ter ami Wllllston reports what he has
to Dnngford, who determines to rid
snmiry of thieves. Jesse Black heads out-
Saw?;. Langford falls in love with Willis
ton's daughter, but does not tell her so.
Louisi* Dale, court stenographer, and
nteoe of Judge Dale, visits Kemah at re
of county attorney, Gordon, to take
C»»Umony in preliminary hearing. Gordon
fxila in love with her. After preliminary
•anamination Willlston's home is attackod
defended by his daughter and him
self. Outlaws fire building just as I.ang
£ twit ami his cowboys arrive. Outlaws
zirry off Williston but l.angford rescues
daughter. Without Willistion evidence
DCalriat Black is meager, and case seems
t>» be Roing against the state. Gordon
rjjkea a night ride and iinds Williston,
ortu> has escaped from captors. The
courthouse at Kemah burns at night.
Wtfliston holds it tea party In his room
following courthouse tire, and Mary Wil
liston and I.ouise Dale attend.
CHAPTER XVlll.—Continued.
eur. A strange elation took possession
of him She was here. He thought of
£asi night and seemed to walk on air.
If be won out maybe—but, fool that
he was! what was there in this rough
Cami for a girl like —Louise?
"Oh, no, that will be too much
trouble," gasped Louise, in some alarm
.and. thinking of Aunt Helen.
"Thanks, old man, we'll stay," spoke
vjj> langford, cheerfully. "He makes
-axceilent tea —really. I've tried it be
fore. You will never regret staying."
Silently he watched his friend in the
Inner room bring out a battered tea
kettle, fill it with a steady hand and
jnit it on the stove in the office, com
ing and going carelessly, seemingly
Eonscioits of nothing in thte world but
the comfort of his unexpected guests.
True to her sex, Louise was curious
ly Interested in the house keeping ar
rangements of a genuine bachelor es
tablishment. Woman-like, she saw
many things in the short time she was
there- —but nothing that diminished
ix er respect for Richard Gordon.
The bed in the inner chamber where
iboth men slept was disarranged but
■rlean. Wearing apparel was strewn
over the chairs and tables. There was
a litter of magazines on the floor. She
laid them up against Langford; she
cJtd not think Gordon had the time or
iaclina.tion to cultivate the magazine
habit. She did not know to whose
weakness to ascribe the tobacco pouch
and brier-wood pipe placed Invitingly
by the side of a pair of gay, elaborate
ly bead-embroidered moccasins, cozily
stowed away under the head of the
bed; but she was rather inclined to
lay these, too, to Langford's charge.
The howling tempest outside only
served to enhance the coziness ot the
rumbling fire and the closely drawn
blinds.
But tea was never served In those
bachelor rooms that night—neither
that night nor ever again. It was a
little dream that went up in flame
with the walls that harbored it. Who
first became conscious that the tang
•of smoke was gradually filling their
nostrils, it was hard to tell. They
were not far behind each other in that
•consciousness. It was Langford who
discovered that the trouble was at
flfce rear, where the wind would soon
have the whole building fanned into
9ames. Gordon unlocked the door
iimc-Uy. He said nothing. But Paul,
springing in front of him, himself
Ehrew it open. It was no new dodge,
this burning a man out to shoot him
as one would drown out a gopher for
6be killing. He need not have been
afraid. The alarm had spread. The
street in front was rapidly filling.
One would hardly have dared to shoot
—then—if one had meant to. And he
»tid not know. He only knew that
Seviltry had been in the air for Gor
don that night. He had suspected
aorc than ho had overheard, but it
bad been in the air.
Gordon saw the action and under
stood it. He never forgot it. He
said nothing, but gave his friend an
aiaminaiing smile that Langford un
derstood. Neither ever spoke of it,
neither ever forgot it. How tightly
■aan quick impulses bind—forever.
Outside, they encountered the judge
£n search of his delinquent charges.
Tm sorry, Dick," he said. "Dead loss
any boy. This beastly wind is your
**adolng."
Tm not worrying. Judge," respond
>ad Gordon, grimly. "I intend for some
<oae else .to do that."
"Hellity damn, Dick, helllty damn!"
j«C9!oded Jim Munson in his ear. The
swords came whistling through his lips,
"wsught and whirled backward by the
atfay of the storm. The cold wa3 get
ttass bitter, and a fine, cutting snow
was at last driving before the wind.
Gordon, with a set face, plunged
inck Into the room—already fire-lick
adU Langford and Munson followed.
There sat. the little tea-service star
inn at them with dumb pathos. The
three succeeded in rolling the safe
with <*' l its precious documents ar- j
ranged within, out into the street.!
Nothing else mattered much—to Gor
don. Hut other things were saved,
and Jim gallantly tossed out every
thing he could lay his hands on before
Gordon ordered everybody out for
good and all. It was no longer safe to
be within. Gordon was the last one
out. He carried a battered little tea
kettle in his hand. He looked at it in
a whimsical surprise as if he had not
known until then that he had it in his
hand. Obeying a sudden impulse, he
held it out to Louise.
"Please take care of —my poor little
dream," he whispered with a strange,
intent look.
Before she could comprehend the
significance or give answer, the judge
had faced about. He bore the girls
\
Gordon Unlocked the Door Quietly.
back to the hotel, scolding helplessly
all the way as they scudded with the
wind. But Louise held the little tin
kettle firmly.
Men knew of Richard Gordon that
night that he was a marked man. The
secret workings of a secret clan had
him on their proscription list. Some
one had at last found this unwearied
and doggedly persistent young fellow
in the way. In the way, he was a
menace, a danger. He must be re
moved from out the way. He could
not be bought from it —he should be
warned from It. So now his home —
his work room and his rest room, the
first by many hours daily the more in
use, with all its furnishings of bache
lor plainness and utility, that yet had
held a curious charm for some men,
friends and cronies like Langford—
was burning that he might be warned.
Could any one say, "Jesse Black has
done this thing?" Would he not bring
down proof of guilt by a retaliation
struck too soon? it would seem as if
he were anticipating an unfavorable
verdict. So men reasoned. And even
then they did not arise to stamp out
the evil that had endured and hugged
itself and spit out corruption in the
cattle country. That was reserved for
—another.
They talked of a match thrown
down at the court-house by a tramp,
likely—when it was past midnight,
when the fire broke out with the wind
a piercing gale, and when no vagrant
but had long since left such cold com
fort and had slept these many weeks
in sunnier climes. Some argued that
the windows of the court-room might
have been left open and the stove
blown down by the wind tearing
through, or the stove door might have
blown open and remains of the fire
been blown out, or the pipe might
have fallen down. But it was a little
odd that the same people said Dick
Gordon's office likely caught fire from
flying sparks. Dick's office was two
blocks to westward of the court-house
and it would have been a brave spark
and a lively one that could have made
headway against that northwester.
CHAPTER XIX.
The Escape.
The little county seat awoke in the
morning to a strange sight. The
storm had not abated. The wind was
still blowing at blizzard rate off the
northwest hills, and fine, icy snow was
swirling so thickly through the cold
air that vision was obstructed. Build
ing were distinguishable only as shad
ows showing faintly through a heavy
white veil. The thermometer had gone
many degrees below the zero mark. It
was steadily growing colder. The old
er inhabitants said it would surely
break the record the coming night.
An immense fire had been built in
the sitting-room.. Thither Mary and
Louise repaired. Here they were
joined by Dale, Langford and Gordon.
"You should be out at the ranch
looking after your poor cattle, Mr.
Langford," said Mary, smilingly. She
could be light-hearted now—since a lit
tle secret had been whispered to her
last night at a tea party where no
tea had been drunk. Langford had
gravitated toward her as naturally
as steel to a magnet. He shrugged his
big shoulders and laughed a little.
"The Scribe will do everything that
can bo done. Honest, now, did you
think this trial could be pulled off
without me!"
"But there can be no trial to-day."
"Why not?"
"Did I dream the court-house barned
last night?"
"If you did, we are all dreamers
alike."
"Then how can you hold court?"
"We have gone back to the time •
when church and state were one and ,
inseparable, and court convenes at 10 i
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JUNE n, 190?.
o'clock a'uicv i" the meeting-house,"
he said.
Louise was locking white and mi -
j erable.
"You are not contemp.'r'Vng running
away, are you?" asked Goiuon. "This
is unusual weather —really."
She looked at him with a pitiful
smile.
"I should like to be strong and
brave and enduring and capable—like
Mary. You don't believe it, do you?
It's true, though. But I can't. I'm
weak and homesick and cold. I ought
not to have come. I am not the kind.
You said it. you know. I am going
home just as soon as this court i 3
over. I mean it."
There was no mistaking that. Gor
don bowed his head. His face was
white. It had come sooner than he
had thought.
All the records of the work yester
day had been burned. There was noth
ing to do but begin at the beginning
again, it was discouraging, uninter
esting. But it had to be done. Dale
refused positively to adjourn. The
jurymen were all here. So the little
frame church was bargained for. If
the fire-bugs had thought to postpone
events —to gain time —by last night's
work, they would find themselves very
greatly mistaken. The church was
long and narrow like a country school
house, and rather roomy considering
the size of the town. It had precise
windows —also like a country school
house —four 011 the west side, through
which the line snow was drifting, four
opposite. The storm kept few at
home with the exception of the people
from across the river. There wero
enough staying in the town to fill the
room to its utmost limits. Standing
room was at a premium. The entry
was crowded. Men not able to get in
ploughed back through the cutting
wind and snow only to return present
ly to see 11' the situation had changed
any during their brief absence. So
all the work of yesterday was gone
over again.
So close was the pack of people that
the fire roaring in the big stove in the
middle of the room was allowed to
sink in smouldering quiet. The heavy
air had been unbearable else. The
snow that had been brought in on
tramping feet lay in little molted
pools on the rough llooring. Men for
got to eat peanuts and women forgot
to chew their gum—except one or two
extremely nervous ones whoso jaws
moved the faster under the stimulus
of hysteria. Jesse Black was telling
his story.
"Along toward the Ist of last July,
I took a hike out into the Indian coun
try to buy a few head o' cattle. I
trade considerable with the half
breeds around Crow creek and Lower
Brule. They're always for sellin' and
if it comes to a show-down never hag
gle much about the lucre —it all goes
for snake-juice anyway. Well, I landed
at John Yellow Wolf's shanty along
about noon and found there was oth
ers ahead of me. Yellow Wolf always
was a popular cuss. There was Char
lie N'ightblrd, Pete Monroe, Jesse Ilig
Cloud and two or three othors whose
mugs I did not happen to be onto.
After our feed, we ail strolled out to
the corral. Yellow Wolf said ho had
bought a likely little bunch from some
English feller who was skipping the
country—starved out and homesick —■
and hadn't put 'em on the range yet.
He said J R was the English feller's
brand. I didn't suspicion no under
hand dealin's. Yellow Wolf's always
treated me white before, so I bar
gained for this here chap and three or
four others and then pulled out for
home driving the bunch. They fed at
home for a spell and then I decided to
put 'em on the range. On the way I
fell in with Billy Brown here. He
was dead set on havln' the lot to fill In
the chinks of the two car loads he was
shippin', so I up and lets him have
'em. I showed him this here blll-o'-
sale from Yellow Wolf and made him
out one from me, and that was all
there was to It. He rode to Velpen
and I turned on my trail."
(To Be Continued.)
GIRL LAWYER FREES HERSELF,
Charged With Vagrancy, Wellesley
Graduate Secures Quick Release.
St. Louis.—Evelyn Dorothy Clark,
graduate of Wellesley, who later stud
ied law at Vassar and whom the police
charged with vagrancy, so skillfully
defended herself in court here that
she won her discharge. It was charged
she failed to pay her bill at the Plant
ers' hotel.
"What were you doing in St. Louis?"
asked Assistant City Attorney King.
"I refuse to answer on the ground
that my answer might Incriminate
me," she replied.
"Objection sustained," pronounced
the court.
"Who is 'Ned,' the Harvard student
who wrote that acquaintance with you
was so expensive that he had to get
a job as telephone operator to recuper
ate his finances?" asked King.
"I decline to answer on the ground
that the question is incompetent, ir
relevant and immaterial."
"Objection sustained," ruled tha
court.
"Have you studied law?"
"Have you?" she parried.
"The prisoner is discharged," inter
rupted Judge Tracy, who had listened
to the legal duel with impatience.
Cornered at Last!
Scientists have been grubbing pa
tiently, almost feverishly, for years
in the hope of tracing the etiology or
source of the growing scourge of can
cer, and although no convincing data
have yet been brought forward, it Is
a general suspicion that the rapid
prevalence 1b due to overlndulgenea
in meats. —Detroit Newfh
A lawsuit had been tried- on the
veranda of the crossroads store, and
when it had been settled Limuel Juck
lin, who had watched the proceedings,
took the home-made chair, vacated by
the justice, leaned back against the
wall and rermkaed: "Rather bad, this
thing of goin' to law. And ain't it a
peculiar state of society that educates
men to stimulate quarrels? We may
say that they ain't trained for that
purpose, but unless there are misun
derstanding the lawyer's work is cut
off, and he's got a little too much of
Old Adam in him not to look out for
his own interest."
"You take a wrong view of the mat
ter," replied a young lawyer.
"That Is just about what I expected
you to say. But grantin' to the lawyer
all he can claim for himself, it must
after all be allowed that the bickerin's
and shortsightedness of the human
family give him the most of hi 3 excuse
for livin'. A perfect state of civiliza
tion would argue perfect honesty, and
if such were the case the lawyers
Would be powerful scarce. There is
no denyin' of the fact that some of the
greatest men have been lawyers and
that the most of our presidents have
practiced law. And so have some of
the immortal geniuses been soldiers,
but if man had been just and peace
able there never would have been
any need for the soldier."
"According to your view, then," said
the lawyer, "there is no real need for
anybody that —"
"That doesn't build up," Limuel
broke in, winking at his former
friends. "Every man ought to produce
somethin*. If he don't he's livin' on
somebody that does. The only real
occupation is the one that makes the
world better. Understand, now, I
have notliin' against anybody's callin'.
I'm just expreßsln' my opinion and it
must be taken for what it i 3 worth.
But the lawyer shows us one thing if
nothin' more—how keen a man's mind
may be whetted. I recollect once that
a fellow sued me. We had swapped
horses —"
"And you had got the better of him,
qh?" said the lawyer.
"Well, that's the way It looked to
him. The horse I let him have died
that night. He asked me if the horse
was sound and I said I never had
heard any complaint, and I hadn't. He
had never been under the care of a
doctor so far as I knew. His appetite
was good and he'd bat his eye when
you motioned at him. I might have
seen him fall down —have seen men
fall, but I didn't think that they were
goin' to die. I told him a child could
drive him. A child did drive him out
of the garden that day. Well, we
swapped, and, as I say, his horse was
taken sick in the night and died be
fore day. He came back to me and
swore that I had swopped him a horse
that I know'd was goin' to die. I told
r—p ONCE knew a
millionaire who
always carried his
money around
—O. with him in bills,
< There were some
one dollar bills,
J L more ten-dollar
bills, and many
§ hundred and thou
sand dollar bills.
He always car
ried them in a
suit case with an
ordinary lock and
Vf V7>" 1111/IIJ ey ' an< * he tolcl
'hm'jjj/f, me that he was
7,!!/ h a PP y ust l)e '
cause he had the
» actual money.
I His brother
II hardly ever
handled money at all. He was a
millionaire, too, but he did all his
business with checks, and seldom had
more than S2O on his person, and he
was miserable and dyspeptic.
Now, of course, there are persons
of imagination who go through life
using checks and feeling rich, but it
takes a good deal of Imagination to do
so, and for me the pretty green ten
dollar bill means ten times as much
as the check for ten dollars.
Of course, checks have their uses,
and I use them myself. When a
bill for some prosaic thing, like re
pairs to the coal chute, comes in, I
send out a check in payment, but if
I am buying a book that I have long
coveted, you may be sure that I hand
out real money for It. The book rep
resents something tangible, and I
will not insult the book dealer by send
ing him a cold, unfeeling check.
If I wanted to bring happiness to a
widow, whose husband had died leav
ing her destitute, do you think that 1
would send her a check for a thou
sand dollars? If you do, you don't
know me.
If I were going to do the thing at all
I would goto her bouse with one
thousand crisp dollar bills, and I would
receive ber thanks for each one. But
him that If he'd show me a horse that
wa'n't goin' to die I'd give him my
farm. I felt that he had the worst of
it and I would have evened it up the
best way I could, but before I got
through havln' fun with him he got
mad and went away and hired a law
yer to prove that I was a liar and al
together the worst man la the com
munity.
"I never got such a scorin' In my
life. I felt sorry for my wife and chil
dren. I didn't think that anybody
would ever speak to me again, and I
told the lawyer that I would make it a
personal matter between me and him.
I expected the justice to decide dead
against me, but he didn't. He had
been a horse trader himself.
"Well, after the thing was over with
I took the horse I got from the feller
and went over to his house about ten
miles away and turned the nag loose
in his lot. I did it not because I was
sorry for him, but because I was
afraid of myself—afraid that I couldn't
sleep, and I was workin' hard and
needed rest. Well, sir, that night
the nag that I'd turned into the lot
ups and dies, and the feller swore that
I had hauled him there after he was
dead, and hanged if he didn't sue me
again. He got the same lawyer and
he made me out a worse man than I
was before. Made it appear that I had
poisoned the horse and dragged him
over there. Then I swore that the
whole county couldn't hold me back
from takin' it out of his hide.
"So the first chance I got I went to
town to see the lawyer. I went over
to the courthouse and he was makin'
a speech, and I wish I may die dead if
the feller he was a skinnin' this time
wan't the very man that had sued me.
I never hearn anything like It. Tip
toed and called him all sorts of a
scoundrel; said that he had defrauded
me, as honest a man as lived in the
state. I couldn't stand that, I walked
on out and after a while he came
along and held out his hand and called
me 'Uncle Lim,' just as if I was his
mother's brother. Then he clapped
me on the shoulder and you could
have heard him laugh more than a
mile. He said he was a comin' out to
go a fishin' with me.
"Well, I let him ofT, and after we
had got to be right good friends, 1
asked him how he happened to be en
gaged against my enemy, and this is
what he said: 'Oh, I wasn't. Some
of the boys told me you were comin'
into the house and I knew that you
were troublesome when you set your
head to it, so as court wasn't in ses
sion I started into makin' a speech
against the fellow so you could hear
me,' and he clapped me on the shoul
der and you could have hearn him
laugh more than two miles this time.
"Get a lawyer with fun in him and
he's all right. Once I had some busi
ness on hand —the settlement of my
it is a queer thing about gratitude.
Her thanks for the first bill would be
heartfelt, but by the time I had reached
the first hundred she would have
grown tired of thanking me, and I
verily believe that before I had hand
ed in the last bill she would have
asked me if I couldn't be a little more
expedient. Thus usage dulls the
senses.
On the other hand, do you suppose
that if I were sued for a thousand dol
lars I would pay the complainant in
good green money? No, a thousand
times, no. I would purposely buy the
smallest blank check that I could find,
and in my most minute chirography,
and with an autograph that was bare
ly good, I would sign it, and thus I
would feel that I was getting off
cheap.
In some things most of us are in
tensely mean, and among the expendi
tures that offend men's souls are those
paid into a railroad company's grasp
ing maw. I hold myself no better
than the rest, and, if possible, I al
ways travel in company with another,
and before we start out I give him
money to cover the expenses, and he
buys the tickets and I feel that I have
not spent so much.
One objection I have to royalties is
that they always come In the form of
a check —when they come at all. One
time, though, my publisher varied it;
instead of sending a check he sent
a bill. You ses, I had given at least
ten copies of the book at Christmas
tirae, and, of course, the balance was
in his favor. Do you know, I really
enjoyed the thing for a change.
By the way, that receiving of royal
ties, even if they are paid in check
form, is a good game. You sell your
stories for so much, and then, when
they are all printed, you are induced
to make a book of them. Weil, you
have already been paid for them, so
that you stand to gain, whatever hap
pens. It may be only ten dollars
that will come to you, but it may be
SIO,OOO, and the joy of looking
forward to royalty day is one
that cannot be expressed In words.
brother's estate—and I went to old
Tom Cantwell and asked him how
much he would charge me, and he al«
mosttook my breath with the amount
he named. I knew he was a man of a
good deal of ability—liked fun, and IS
says to him like this: 'Tell you what
arrangement to make, colonel. I've
got a mighty fine chicken out at my
house and if you can fetch out one to
whip him I'll engage you and pay your
price, but if my chicken whips yourn,
why yoi. the work for nothin'.' He
was a man of ability and he agreed.
Ah, me, there ain't such lawyers about
here these days. I recollect one*
he—"
"But did the fight come off?" some
one inquired.
"Oh, that fight? Yes, held tallow
candles for it one night, and you'd
have thought It was a snowin', the
air was so full of feathers. My wife
kept on a callin' out: 'Limuel, what
are you a doin' there in the smoke
house,' and I always answered: 'l'm
diggin' up a rat. Goon to bed. I've
most got him now.'
"I don't know how long they fit—i
other roosters were crowin' all arouni
the neighborhood when they got
through. But my chicken crowed last,
and the colonel gave me his hand with
feathers a stickin' to it, and says, says
he: 'Lim, you've got me and.l'll take
care of your business.'
"Best settlement I ever made. Ha
took care of the business right up ta
the handle, and when he had got
through he 'lowed, he did, that he could
find a bird that could whip mine fotf
the estate —said he'd put up his law
books and his house and lot against itj
but it looked too much like gamblin',
so I backed down. Oh, he would hava
done it. Ablest lawyer in the county.
It's a pity all lawsuits couldn't be set
tled somewhat in that way—as fairly,
I mean.
"I was just a thinkin'," he added aft
er a few moments of silence, "how
much trouble the old world has been
put to tryln' to govern man. Every
year or so the legislatures meet and
make laws and unmake them, alwaya
experimentin' with man. The troubla
with him is he don't know what ha
wants and don't know what to do with!
it after he gets It. And the lawyer laj
the outgrowth of his restlessness and
his ignorance."
"Think there will ever come a tima
w'.ien there are no lawyers?" the young?
advocate inquired, and the old man
scratched his head.
"Oh, yes, that time will come, but
it will be the time when there isn't
anything. The lawyer has come to stay
as long as the rest of us do. He's s
smart man and a good feller for tha
most part, and is nearly always willin'
to forgive you when he has done you
a wrong, and I want to remark righf
here that this argues the extremest C
liberality."
('Copyright, by Oplf Read.)
You do not hear much about t'»
sale of your book; your friends
nothing about it, but perhaps theyi
are keeping its phenomenal success a
secret from you. You live in tha
country, and you never see the Book
man, so you do not know what tha
six best sellers are, but you hava
your suspicions. At last the fate«
ful day arrives, the familiar enveloj
of your publisher comes to you '
mail, and as you open it a check flu.
ters out. You remember the stories
of du Maurier and "Trilby," and how
his publishers sent him several thou
sands over and above the contract,
agreement. I
To be sure, It is only a check, and
not money, but, after all ; any ban£
wi'l fconvert a check into money if
you are known, and your book has
doubtless made you known through
the wide jvorld. *
You pick up the check and close
your eyes until you are holding it
right in front of them. ''.The Seconu
National bank of New York. Pay to
the order of yourself $17.50. Harp,
Scrib. & Co." »
It isn't quite what you thought It
would be. The book is not one of
the six—yet. Still, after the first
appointment Is over, you reflect that
it is all clear gain, and you goto
the bank and have it converted into
new dollar bills, and then you go down
town to the bookstore and you buy
thirty odd books that you have wanted
for years.
No, you don't. You know very well
you don't, for the same mall that
brought the check brought Its antith
esis in the form of a bill from the
gentleman who raised the price - of
beef on you, and the other gentleman
who charged you eight dollars a tooi
for coal, and like a good little man,
you sit down and you write out two'
checks which take up 42 of the dollars.
But take my advice and get the bet
ter of fortune by taking the five-fiftyi
that is left —and your wife —and going
into town for a small jamboree. Re
member that a jamboree, small though
it be, remains in the memory long,
after the memory of a paid bill has
left you.
Pay the bills, but save enough out,
of the cost of your clothes for a littlaj
jamboree. Clothes warm the body,,
but jamborees warm the cockles of!
the heart, and a man who neglects thai
cockles of the heart to put Jaeger 1
underwear on his lusty limbs has
failed in his duty toward himself—l
and his better half.
(ConyrUht. by Jaous Pott