Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 4 — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

BROTHERS 0’ Asking that question of a disgraced life convict, who had forfeited his standing even in State prison, lying flat on his face in a musty doghole helpless, hopeless! Again did Sergeant Douglass express his opinion in untrammeled fashion. ‘ S-s-s-sh!”’ fizzed the gentleman who had been serving as chorus. ‘“ He’s a friend of mine and you hurt my feelings.” “I’m the only friend he’s got,” stated the other, ‘“‘ and it’s the same the other way about. There isn’t a human being out- side who'll turn a finger for us. But you have outside friends, bo!”’ . In his despair Douglass swore at him. But the other remained calm. ‘‘ How about the little Jane with the rosy cheeks? SPINKLE’S CHIMNEY. 591 Oh, boy! What can’t a dame with /er looks do?” ‘“ $-s-S-s—sure!”’ ‘“ Damn you!”’ shrieked Douglass. ‘ I’ll come through this door, even if I have to gnaw through with my teeth. One more word on that point and [’ll kill you!” ‘“T think the talk has gone far enough for one session, Tudge,” remarked the chief speaker. ‘‘ Besides, I’ve been lying on this floor so long I’ve got dust in my pipes. They’re careless about their house- keeping in this doghole. But one last werd to you, friend, in the next cage! There’s something for sale around these diggings. You’d better do some tall think- ing as to how vou’ll raise the price!” (To be continued NEXT WEEK.) MAN sat cross-legged on the sail-cloth. Opposite him a strange, long-limbed figure lolled on a stone, half leaning against the rocky wall of the cave. The man had been reading from a tat- tered volume, discolored by salt water. At the end of the poem, he looked up, his finger marking the place. | “And that’s all of that one!” he ex- claimed. It. was perhaps the five hun- dredth time that he had read it aloud, yet his eyes sparkled with excitement. “It’s a great story, Freddy, that one of old Macau- lay’s. You know that, don’t you, even if you can’t say so? It’s about a famous sol- dier. His name was Hora-éi-us. He lived thousands of years a&o, and when all the others had run away out of the fight he stayed on the bridge alone and saved the city. “Want me to read it again, Freddy? Well, so I will. same’s before. Or wait; here’s something else you like. You haven’t heard it for a long time. Give heed, now—”’ He read slowly and painstakingly, with occasionally odd phrasings and mispronun- ciations, like a student who had been self- You keep full quiet, boy- OOO (C(O) S (C(C)