Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 74: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

—~@ iiert: © PAC AGAVOP OVE MED? ATOV AI AGA aE GROWING HENS OF tay TOTULU 4% 3- ALLAN DUNN Author of ‘The Gold Lust,” ‘“‘The Island of the Dead,” etc. RIEVER speak to a woman before twelve o’clock, noon. Follow that rule, Jimmy, my lad,” said Riley Hardin, ‘‘and you'll avoid Sane with the sex. By twelve their blood gets to circulatin’ properly and they forget to be peevish.”’ “Ho, yus,” replied Jimmy. ‘‘That’sa fine hold bit hof a rule, that his. You ’as your dooties on deck, an’ w’en you ain’t got none you can pretend you ’as, an’ she none the wiser. But w’ot price me? My job’s below an’ she knows hit, an’ fair chivvies me hall hover the place till Hi’m barmy. Hi’m sick of hit, Hi tell yer. W/’ot did she come ha- board for hanyway, that’s w’ot Hi’d like to know? Wot hif she his the skipper’s missis. Hi’ve got shares hin the ship my- self.” ‘She came aboard, Jimmy, my son,” re- plied the first mate,” because she preferred the Margaret Ann to jail.” “She’ll turn the ship hinter a bloomin’ loonatic asylum hif she keeps hit hup this W’y, wiv me has chief patient. W’ot was she goin’ to get hin jail for? Wimmen’s wrongs what they wants made wimmens’ rights, I suppose?”’ “Well, Jimmy, you know she’s had the sufferaging bug bad for a year. She’s what we call back in the States a lime- lighter. Wants to stand in the spot all the time and thinks she’s a natural-born leader.” “Hi know hall that. get the coppers hafter ’er. W’ot appened to 72 ‘You were out of town, Jimmy. It was a week before we sailed : “W’ot did she do? ’Eave ’arf a brick hat a bobby?” “Fj rat ”” said Hardin, “‘her limelightin’ got her to start a subscription to place a marble monument above the grave of an English sufferagette that had tricd to blow up all the poets’ and dooks’ and warriors’ tombs in Westminster Abbey, but had miscalculat- ed the length of the fuse. That fell flat, owin’ to the lady who was fightin’ her for the leadership of the Sydney Sufferagettes being a sixteenth cousin of the nephew of Nelson, or Byron or some one, “So then some of ’em got into the gallery at the mayor’s banquet and threw a lot of cheap eggs while the soup was being served. One egg was a chiny one and hit the mayor on the bean, so that his bald head looked as if it was tryin’ to raise eggs on it’s own ac- count. The skipper got the tip that the police knew who chucked it, so we smuggled Mrs. B. aboard and telegraphed you, and the next day we sailed. “T told the skipper they couldn’t prove it on her, because she couldn’t possible have aimed it at the mayor and hit him too, but he didn’t see the joke.” “Well, Hi’m goin’ to tell ’im something hon my hown ’ook. Blowed hif she don’t think Hi’m some sort of stooard. Started harrangin’ my trade-room shelves. Told me Hi ’adn’t got no tyste in dress goods. Me! Wot ’ave hintrodooced more ’its hin percales hand muslins than hany supercargo COmiclboolkks,. Com