John Henry's
Ghost Story
By GEORGE V. HOBART
The ponies had put a sad crimp In
my roll, and I had to square myself
with Clara J. I told her I had bought
a cottage In the burbs, and Bunch had
helped me out by lending me his coun
try house for a day I was supposed
to show it to Clara J., and then renig
on it because It was haunted.
When the alarm clock went to work
the next morning Clara J. turned
around and gave it a look that made
its teeth chatter.
She had been up and doing an hour
before that clock grew nervous
enough to crow.
Her enthusiasm was RO great that
Bhe was a Busy-Lizzie long before 7
o'clock and we were not booked to
leave the Choo-Choo House till 10:30.
About 8 o'clock she dragged me
away from a drama and I reluctantly
awoke to a realization of the fact that
I was due to deliver some goods which
I had never seen and didn't want to
see.
"Get up, John!" Clara J. suggested,
with a degree of excitement in her
voice, "it's getting dreadfully late and
you know I'm all impatience to see
that lovely home you've bought for
me in the country!"
Me under the covers, gnawing holes
in the pillow to keep from swearing.
"Oh, dear me!" she sighed, "I'm
afraid I'm Just a bit sorry to leave
this sweet little apartment. We've
been so happy here, haven't we?"
I grabbed the ball and broke
through the center for 10 yards.
"Sorry," I echoed, tearfully; "why,
it's breaking my heart to leave this
cozy little collar box of a home and
go into a great country house full of—
of—of rooms, and —er —and windows,
and —cr —and—er—piazzas, and- -and
—and cows and things like that."
"Of course we wouldn't have to
I Ij
"I Jumped Head First Into My Most Blood-Curdling Story."
keep the cow In the house," she said,
thoughtfully.
"Oh, no," I said, "that's the point.
There would be a barn, and you
haven't any idea how dangerous barns
are They are the curse of country
life, barns are."
"Well, thfln, John, why did you buy
the cow?" Bhe Inquired, and 1 went up
and punched a hol«» In the plaster.
Why did buy the row? Was tltere
a cow? Had Hunch ever mentioned
a cow to me? Come to think of It,
he hadn't, and thero I was cooking
trouble over a slow flre.
When I cnme to she was saying
quietly. Besides, I think Id rather
have a milkman than a cow Milk
men swear a lot and cheat sometimes,
but as a rulo they are more trust
wuriby than cows, and tliev very sel
dom chaßo anybody. Couldn't you
turn the barn Into a gymnasium or
something?'*
"Dearie," I said, trying my level
best to get a mist over my lamps so
as to give her the teardrop gaze,
"something keeps whispering to me.
'Sid* step that cave In the wilderness!'
Something ketps telling um that a
month on the farm will put a crimp
In ur happiness, and that the moment
we move into a home In the tail grass
111 lurk will get up and put the boots
to our wedded bliss"
Then I gave an imitation of a chok
Ins sob which sounded for all the
world like th* last dying shriek of a
bathtub when the water Is busy leav
Ing It.
"Non wass, John!** laughtd t'lara J.;
"It's only natural that you regret
leaving our hrst home, but aft« r ona
dny In the eountry you'll be happy aa
a mm
vMke It a deuce," 1 muttered, "a
dirty d at tlat "
,Ni • >he iaUI joyfully. Tu» going
tot ik your breakfast This may be
your vary la*t bt>-akfaat Is a elty
apart •at for months, maybe years,
»>> I'm going to UH>k It myself I've
g *\ ty 'tank pei k»d haven't I
wuikt t I.aril* flat up, you taiy boy!"
kU'l wit tbla aba dan. ■<l out of the
WM
t very Uuab packed' Mil sbe In
ias it taking them with in r, and II sbe
til h • vu4 i »t*p ti rf
Back to the woods!
I began to feel like a street Just
before they put the asphalt down.
For some time I lay there with my
brain huddled up in one corner of my
head, fluttering and frightened.
Presently an Insistent scratch-r-r-r-r
aroused me and I began to sit up and
notice things.
The things I noticed consisted
chiefly of Tacks, my youthful brother
in-law, and the kitchen carving knife.
The former was seated on the floor
laboriously engineering the latter in
an endeavor to produce a large arrow
pierced heart on the polished pane!
of the bedroom door.
"What's the idea?" I Inquired.
"I'm farewelling the place," he an
swered, mournfully. "They's only two
more doors to farewell after I get this
one finished. Ain't hearts awful hard
to draw Just right, 'specially when the
knife slips!"
"You little imp!" I yelled. "Do you
mean to tell me you've been doing a
panel comic all over this man's house?
Scat!" and I reacherl for a shoe.
"Cut it!" cried Tacks, indignantly.
"Didn't the Janitor say he'd miss me
dreadful, and how can he miss me
'less'n ho sees my loving remember
ments all over the place every time he
shows this compartment to somebody
else? And it is Impolite togo 'way
forever and ever amen without fare
welling the Janitor."
"Where do you think you're going?"
I inquired, trying hard to be calm.
"To the country to live, sister told
me," Tacks bubbled; "and we ain't
never coming back to this horrid city,
sister told me; and you bought the
house for a surprise, sister told me;
and it has a plzzazus all around it,
sister told me; and a cow that gives
condensed milk, sister told me; and
they a hens and chickens and turkey
gob!ins and a garden to plant potato
salad In, and they's a barn with
pigeons In the attic, and they's a lawn
with a barber's wire fence all around
j It. sister told me; and our trunks are
, all packed, and we ain't never coming
back here no more, sister told me;
and I must hurry and farewell them
j two doors!"
Tacks was slightly in the lead when
my shot* reached the door, so he won.
At bri-skfast we were Joined by
Uncle I'eter and Aunt Martha, both of
whom fairly oozed enthusiasm, and
Clara J 'a pulse began to climb with
; excitement and anticipation.
I was on the bargaiu counter, mark
cd down from 30 cents.
livery time l.'ncle Peter sprang a
new idea In reference to his garden.
! aud they came so fast they almost
choked liiui, I felt a burning bead of
! perspiration start out to explore my
j forehead
Presently to put the froth of fear
( upon my cup of sorrow there came a
1 telegram from "Bunch" which read a*
follows:
New York
| John Henry,
No 301 W. 109 th HI
Sister and family will move In eouu
try house tomorrow Re aura to play
i your game today. flood luck.
lluucb.
Poor John' you look ao worried."
said t 'lara I emloualy; "1 i sully hope
it Is nothing thai will rail yuu back
to town for a week at least It will
take us fully a week tu get settled;
| don't you think so. Aunt Martha?"
| dove Into my coffecup and stayed
| under a long time, When I catue to
the surfan ag.tla t'nele Peter was ei
j plaining to lacks thai baked beans
grew only in a very kot climate, and
I In the gfttrral confusion the telegram
| waa forgotten by all estept my bar
poo lied self.
flat a I and Aunt Martha were both
teat till wbeu w« laft the flat to ride
i ti tb station, but to my Intense relief
* o i.ii niton was made of tbe trunks;
! *ks»i«|«t»ntly I t.»g*n to lift tbe mutt
| gage from my life and breaths easier
tin ike way out 'l'ai as left a small
J mi i el eit* use uf the hall boys wkln
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1910.
Instructions to hand tt to the Janitor
aa eoon as possible.
"It's a little present for the janitor
in loving remembrance of bis mem
ory," Tacks explained with something
(bat sounded like a catch in his voice.
"Hasn't that boy a lovely disposi
tion," Aunt Martha beamed on Tacks,
"to be so forgiving to the janitor after
the horrid man had sworn at him and
blamed him for putting a cat in the
dumb waiter and sending it up to the
nervous lady on the seventh floor,
who abominated cats and who
screamed and fell over in a tub of
suds when she opened the dumb
waiter door to get her groceries and
the cat jumped at her? Mercy! how
can the boy be so generous?"
Tacks bore up bravely under this
panegyric of praise and his face wore
a rapt expression which amounted al
most to religious fervor.
"What did you give the janitor,
Angel-Face?" I asked.
"Only just another remembrance,"
Tacks answered, solemnly. "I hap
pened to find a poor, little dead mouse
under the gas range, and I thought
I'd farewell the Janitor with it."
Aunt Martha sighed painfully, and
Uncle Peter chuckled inwardly like a
mechanical toy hen.
On the train out to Jiggersville,
Clara J. was a picture entitled "The
■Toy of Living"—kind regards to Mrs.
Pat Campbell; Ibsen please write.
As for me, with every revolution of
the wheels I grew more and more a
half portion of chipped beef.
"Oh, John!" said Clara J., her voice
shrill with excitement; "I forgot to
tell you! I left my key with mother
and she's going to superintend the
packing of the furniture this after
noon. By evening she expects to have
everything loaded in the van and we
won't have to wait any time for our
trunks and things!"
"Great Scott!" I yelled. "Maybe
you won't like the house! Maybe it's
only a shanty with holes in the roof—
er, I mean, maybe you'll be disap
pointed with the layout! What's the
blithering sense of being in such a
consuming fever about moving the
fiendish furniture? I'm certain you'll
hate the very sight of this corn-crib
out among the ant hills. Can't you
back-pedal on the furniture gag and
give yourself a chance to hear the
answer to what you ask yourself?"
Clara J. looked tearfully at me for
a moment; then she went over and
sat with Aunt Martha and told her
how glad she was we were moving to
the country where the pure air would
no doubt have a soothing effect on
niy nerves, because I certainly had
grown irritable of late.
At last we reached the little old log
cabin down the lane, and after the
first glimpse I knew it was all off.
The place I had borrowed from
Hunch for a few minutes was a dream,
all right, all right.
With its beautiful lawns and its
glistening graveled walks; with a
modern house perfect in every detail;
with its murmuring brooklet rushing
away into a perspective of nodding
green trees, and with the bright sun
shine smiling a welcome over all, it
made a picture calculated to charm
the most hardened city crab that ever
crawled away from the cover of the
skyscrapers.
As for Clara J., she simply threw
up both hands and screamed for help.
She danced and yelled with delight.
Then she hugged and kissed me with
a thousand reiterated thanks for my
glorious present.
I felt as joyous as a Jelly flsh. Ten
legged microbes began to climb into
my pores. Everything I had in my
system rushed to my head. I could
seo myself In the giggle giggle ward In
a bat house, playing I was the king
of England.
1 was a Joke turned upside down.
After they had examined every
nook and cranny of the place and had
talked themselves hoarse with do
light, I called them all up on the
front piazza for the purpose of put
ting out their lights with my ghost
story.
I figured on driving them all back
to the depot with about four para
graphs or creepy talk, so when I had
them huddled I began In a hoarse
whisper to raise their hair.
1 told them that no doubt they had
noticed the worried expression on my
face and explained that It was due
chiefly to the fact that I had learned
quite by accident that this beautiful
place was haunted.
Tacks grew so excited that he
dropped a garden spade off the piazza
and into u hot house below, breaking
seven panes of glass, but the others
only ami! d Indulgently and I went on.
1 jumped headfirst Into my most
blood cur Ming story and related in de
tail how a murder had beeu com
mitted on the very site the house wus
butlt oh and how a fierce bewhlskered
spirit roamed the premises at night
and demanded vengeance I described
lu awful words the harrowing spec
tacle and all I got at (he finish waa
the hoot from L'nuie Peter.
"Poor John, ' said Clara J. "I had
no Idea you were so ruu down. Why,
you're almost on the vergn of nervous
proa t rat to u And how thoughtful you
wire to ilt k out a haunted house, for
I do lov« ghosts Didn't you kuow
that? I'll tell you what lets do I'll
give a prise lor the first one who sees
and speuks to this unhappy spirit -
won t It be Jolly? Where are you go
lug. Jobu?"
Mu, lo the undertakers I itieau I
iswl fas bae|» lo town That tele
gram Ihis uiorulug Important busl
aeae forgot all about It set
later don t breathe till I get t g |
u>' mu don't Hi* till I •>!»' the devil!"
Just than 1 l«>ll over Ihe lawn mow
Mr, pit sr I loyseli up hastily ami
lushed og tu low u la Hud Hunch, for
I i«< >ll i«iuly up against it g„ed
,C»tf< • '» s I*! >«seflt
Back to the Soil.
"Back to the soil," cried the sages,
"That way lleß money and health."
Somehow It seemed too hard labor
Bowing and reaping: for wealth. .
"Back to the soil," cried the boomers. ■
"Country and city In one,"
M Tet an existence suburban SK
k JK i Seemed but a. farce of true fun. k JK i
; j ; "Back to the soil," cried promoters. | Y !
"Gold mines but two cents a share." T
,1s That looked a bit more Inviting, ,l s
* I Still he did not seem to care. / I v
A I K Tet he succumbed to the slogan, / I
And for a tiny estate. 1/ 4 >i
Gee. but he ran like the dickens
Trying to reach the home plate.
—Mcf-andburgh Wilson, In New York
Sun.
Knights
of the
Toasting
Fork
By KATE LILLY BLUE
Tha perplexed frown cleared from
Dorothy's brow as she laid down pencil
and note book.
"Yes," she said, in answer to Helen's
Inquiring look, "feel sure we can make
It, If you will just remember to be
economical about the cooking. Of
course, after paying for rent, gas and
food we will have nothing left, but for
tunately, we will not need any clothes
this year."
"And by tho time we do you will be
making lots of money with your
stories."
"I hope so, Indeed, but let us not
count chickens before they hatch. She
smiled light-heartedly as she rose from
the little table where they had eaten
their first meal in an apartment house
In the big city to which they had come
to try their fortunes—the orphan
daughters of an impecunious doctor in
a country town.
"Put on your hat and let us sally
forth to get our bearings," said Dor
othy, the literary genius who was to
conquer fortune with tho point of her
pen.
"And find the shop where food Is
cheapest," replied Helen, the domestic
goddess who was to rule over the pots
and pans during tho warfare.
But 10, when they tried the door It
refused to open, and after vain at
tempts by both they realized they were
Imprisoned In a room on tho seventh
floor of tho big building with no ap
parent moans of getting out except by
way of the flre escape.
They were too far above the street
to attract the attention of the passers
by and unless they sprouted wings, or
an airship strayed by, they must get
out by the door.
"If some one would pass along the
corridor," said Helen dolefully.
"The transom!" cried Dorothy, "the
transom! Maybe I can see somo one
from there."
In a trice they had rolled the dresser
in front of tho door atd Dorothy had
mounted to peer through tho glass
transom.
"I hear footsteps—oh, hope they are
coming this way. Oh, please, please,
sir, whoever you are, we are locked in!
Can't you help us?"
Tho young man who was walking
aimlessly down tho corridor looked up
in amazement to encounter a flushed
young face lit by a pair of pleading
gray eyes.
"Locked in? Who did it? What for?
Of cour>.o I'll help you, if you tell mo
how. Shall 1 break in the door or go
for tho police?"
Doily smib d, showing a dimple which
was her most valuable asset.
"We did it ourselves, 1 suppose, not
understanding tho lock. If you will
kindly call the janitor I think bo can
liberate us."
The young mail turned and vanished
| to reappear in on Incredibly short time 1
with the janitor who opened the door
with his pass key and explained to
them tho mechanism of the spring
lock.
Both the girls thanked him grateful
ly and its he retired turned to the youth
who still held his ground, hat In hand.
Ills face flushed at their thanks and he
stammered, "Don't mention It.l am
one of your neighbors. My, room Is
just below and If It happens again Just
call ou me. My name Is Peter Har
ris."
As the girls walked along the street
they laughed over the adventure.
"I hope our deliverer will not pre
sume on this," said Helen.
"I don't think he looks presumptions
oh, Helen, I have never seen aiiyouo
who looked as much like an augul as
did through that transom."
"An angel with red hair aud freckles.
Just fancy!" laughed Helen
"But >uu will have to grant that hl.>
name is appropriate, at l«»aat."
"Kveii so tit Peter sounds aLI light 1
to uie lie Is yours at least you may |
claim him, eveu It you never speak to
him again "
A week w«ut by iiuroihy spent
! most of her time at her typewriter
while lt«Wa kept the tiny apartment
' beautifully •»' at ami eli all aud pre
jwred 'he M»» tie oil Ihe gas stove
| Twice a day lh«y went for a lone
j walk, and on one •>r iw» idea*!<>iis met j
| pet-1 Haul on the stairs i'hejf nl
| wa l l ' ;•
1- ■►»•*< » ■"■ I—"""' "•
I "S.. . Wll « •
alone. Helen remained at home to cook
supper. Suddenly the hugo toasting
fork she was wielding slipped from her
hand onto the sill, through the window
and was gone.
She watched its flight in breathless
fascination until It landed with a clang
on the pavement at the feet of a young
man who was passing. Helen saw him
stoop to take It, then look up to see
whence It came. She drew in her face
and ran down the stairs to recover her
property. At the third flight she met
the rescuer of the toasting fork bring
ing it to her.
"Is this yours?" :ie asked, a quizzical
look in his eyes.
"Yes," she said, with a gentle dig
nity which sat well upon her. "Thank
you for troubling to restore It." -
"Don't mention It. I think neighbors
ought to be neighborly, and I promise
if your property strays my way again
I shall take pleasure in restoring it to
you."
He watched her with admiration as
she ascended the stairs and waa al
most run over by a plump, dimple
cheeked, auburn-haired young woman,
who seemed as abstracted as himself.
The girls laughed over this adven
ture as they had over the other, and
agreed as before that they must be
careful of this "Knight of the toastln*
fork," as they styled him, might prove
troublesome.
A week later they were returning
from their walk when Helen, running
up the last flight of stairs, turned her
foot. She slipped and went tumbling
down the narrow steps.
Dorothy caught her in her arms and
stopped her, but when she tried to put
her foot to the floor she gave a cry of
pain.
"Oh, Dolly, I have sprained my
ankle!"
"Oh, what shall we do?" Dolly wall
ed. "I remember seeing a doc
tor's sign on the floor below. Let's
get him."
Before Helen could remonstrate she
was gone. Half way down the next
flight she ran into Peter Harris.
"Oh, St. Peter," she cried, to his as
tonishment, "Helen has fallen down
stairs and broken her ankle. Where
can I find a doctor?"
"Here," he said, as he led her to
wards a door on the lower landing.
"Frank," he called, "como quickly. A
young lady has fallen downstairs and
hurt her ankle.
A hurried step across the room and
a young man stood before them.
"This is Dr. Davidson, Miss —"
"Duval," she said, In answer to his
look of inquiry.
"My sister is on the floor above. Do
come at ouce."
Then found Helen pale with pain, but
she gave a faint smile as she recog
nized in the young physician her
knight of the toasting-fork.
The doctor gavo his friend somo in
structions in a low voice, then without
a word to her picked up the injured
young lady and proceeded to carry her
to her room in his arms.
When Dorothy unlocked the door, he
deposited his lovely burden on the lit
tle white cot inside. While he was re
reinovlng the shoo from tho rapidly
swelling foot, St. Peter arrived with
the bandage for which ho had been
sent, and soon the doctor's deft fingers
had bandaged the injured ankle and
arranged it as comfortably as possible.
After receiving the thanks of thu
girls the young men returned to the
apartment below and settled them
selves for a cozy smoke.
After smoking in silence for awhile,
the doctor said: "By Jove, did you
ever soe any thing so exquisite?"
"Never," returned Harris, emphatic
ally, but thu doctor was thinking of
tho pale, sweet face with its aureole of
golden hair us It lay on the pillow,
while Harris could see nothing but thu
round, flushed, childish face with
thu big gray eyes full of tears and nux
i.-ty.
The next day the doctor called twice
upon his patient, accompanied both
times by his friend. The llrsl time they
found iHirotby wrestling with the gas
stove, ii«r cheeks pinker than ever, her
unburn hair more tumbled, lluleu was
propped up on her cot.
"Poor Dolly was not meant for a
cook," sbu said "She has three burns
already, doctor, which need your at
tention as much as my aukle does."
"Oh no," cried Dorothy, quickly, as
visions of a large doctor's bill loomed
up before her. "I wll. put some soda
oil thu burns and It will be all light
tomorrow "
Harris volunteered to assist h«»r, and
whlluthii doctor 11114 • >.d the bandag"*
on lleU<u's ankle l»Jj> friend not only
applied the soda but li<<ip> d ikirothy
to cook the lmnh<oh
Helen's ankl* was slow to mom!,
and while »h«» waa helpl»*s the inti
wavy among tin. young p«opi s gre*
The doetor paid such frequent i*|U
llt m.iuiii) had grown uiuru and
mure worried as she thought about
in bill tfb« > ven thought of giving
u hut Kio* doing feit'tiu
i ill** ui#iiin kill**
friend remained so late that she asked
them to tea.
While she and Peter were laying
the table, Helen and the doctor watch
ed them from the other room. Helen
frowned.
"Dorothy ought not to marry a poor
man. She ought to stay single, or
marry money."
"And why?" inquired the doctor
with interest.
"Because she has genius, and for
her genius to develop properly she
should not bother about the loaves
and fishes.
"And, besides, her cooking would
drive any man to drink."
"You needn't worry about that if she
marries Peter. You see what a good
coo khe is. And then —he isn't a cook
by profession. He learned to do it on
some of his many camping expedi
tions. He is really a very rich man,
with a handsome home which he shut
up when his mother died, and came to
live with me."
"Oh, I am so glad," exclaimed Helen,
as she saw Peter furtively kiss a burn
on Dolly's arm.
The doctor's voice recalled Helen.
"I suppose you ought to marry a
rich man, too —a man who could
furnish the proper setting for your
beauty."
"I —oh, no," she replied, sweetly.
"My only talent is home-making, and.
that could be cultivated to better pur
pose in the modest home of a man in
moderate circumstances."
He bent over her quickly.
"Helen, Helen! Do not play with
me! You know I love you. Am I
the man for whom you are willing to
exercise your talents?"
The blue-gray eyes met the brown
ones above them in one look of under
standing, while his hand found hera
and clasped it.
"Supper is ready. St Peter bids you
come and feast on viands of his pre
paring. Let us eat, drink and ba
merry today, for tomorrow —"
"We marry," finished St. Peter.
QUAINT OLD MAYPOLE INN
House of Public Entertainment That
Stood at the Edge of Epplng
Forest.
In the year 1775 there stood upon
the borders of Epplng forest, at a dis
tance of about 12 miles from London
—measuring from the standard ia
Cornhill, or rather from the spot on or
near to which the standard used to be
in days of yore—a house of public en
tertainment called the Maypole; which
fact was demonstrated to all such
travelers as could neither read nor
write —and 66 years ago a vast number
both of travelers and stay-at-homes
were in this condition —by the emblem
reared on the roadside over against tha,
house, which, if not of those goodly
proportions that Maypoles were wont
to present in olden times, was a fair
young ash, 30 feet in height, and
straight as any arrow that ever Eng
lish yeoman drew.
The Maypole—by which term from
henceforth is meant the house, and
not its sign—the Maypole was an old
building, with more gable ends than a
lazy man would care to count on a
sunny day; huge zig-zag chimneys, out
of which it seemed as though even
smoke could not choose but come in
more than naturally fantastic shapes,
Imparted to it in its tortuous progress;
and vast stables, gloomy, ruinous and
empty.
Its windows were old diamond pane
lattices, its floors were sunken and un
even, Its ceilings blackened by tho
hand of time and heavy with massive
beams. Over the doorway was an
ancient porch, quaintly and grotes
quely carved; and here on summer
evenings the more favored customers
smoked and drank —ay, and sang
many a good song, too, sometimes—
reposing on two grim-looking, htgh
backed settles, which, like the twin
dragons of eomo fairy talo, guarded
the entrance lo the mansion.—Charles
Dickens, in "Harnuby Rudge."
Importance of the Recess.
"The school recess is one of the
most important features of child edu
cation. Its Influences are moro pow
erful than those of the classroom and
more vital than any other the child
participates in," said W. E. Watt,
principal of tho Crahani school. Chi
cago.
"During this playtime activity,"
continued Mr. Watt, "ho loams his
true relation among thoae who are
stronger than himself. One helpful
lesson Is that tho fellow who appeals
to tho teacher or principal Is not es
teemed highly
"The children of the grammar
school And the recess to be the most
profitable period. Every teacher goes
down with her own pupils. She or
ganizes the games, of which she
knows a great many. She encourages
the pupils to play the games familiar
to their parents, perhaps In the old
country. We have printed a little
book of r«ces* games which require
little or no apparatus. Tho teachers
get as much benefit out of the games
ss do the pupils." —Christian Hclem-e
Monitor.
A Bibulous Blunder.
"How did Colonel goaktoy happen to
liny a copy of 111 ler Haggard * "Red
Kvs' T'
"tilt, th' t'oluuel glaaeed at the title
ratH< i haatlly and thought It was
lt«4 Ky«'**
A New 0««"Uioe.
I Ittln Cobby V\ hat are Ihe •'»»• of
OKI I lull? |VI« I lob Tk<NW •*
Il.tte li<ig<|tfc*tl to commit, but Willi h
a* 'MlttV *H> iid to as kutiß m *«
,! legit; ' k"t on rat#»l.