The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-08-11

these two fighting for herl Here in the
public gaze on the flatsi For almost
five minutes she was Helen Of Troy.
And in much less Billy tasted repent
ance. The haze of half pints was dis
PEELED, and some teeth went with it.
Presently he rose and made a running
kick at the other, but being thwartedi in
a bolt flung himself down, and it was
like to go hard with him at the hands of
the crowd. Punch, you may, on Wan
sted flats, but execration and worse is
your portion if you kick anybody except
your wife.
But as the ring closed the helmets of
two policeman were observed working
inward above the surrounding heads,
and Sam Cardew, quickly assuming his
coat, turned away with such an air of
blamelessness as is practicable with a
damaged eye, while Billy went off I'M
needed in the opposite direction.
Billy was all very well, but Sam was
better. She resolved to draw him for a
feathered hat before next bank holiday.
So the sun went down on her and her
bloke hanging on each others necks and
struggling toward the Romford road
with shouts and choruses. The rest was
trafncar, low music hall, half pints and
darkness.
Billy took home his wounds, and his
mother, having moved his wrath by ask
ing their origin, sought refuge with a
neighbor. His revenge he accomplished
in two installments. Two nights later
Lizerunt was going with a jug of beer
when somebody sprang from a park cor
ner, landed her under the ear, knocked
her sprawling and made off to the sound
of her hullabulloo. She did not see who
it was, but she knew, and next day Sam
Cardew was swearing he'd break Billy's
back.
He did not, however, for that evening
a gang of seven or eight fell on him with
sticks and belts. (They were Causeway
chaps, while Sam was a Brady's laner,
which would have been reason enough
by itself, even if Billy Chope had not
been one of them.)
He lay at home for nearly four weeks,
and when he stood up again it was in
many bandages. Lizerunt came often
to his bedside, and twice she brought an
orange.
But the weeks went on. 1t was a
month, and Sam had left his bed, and
L~izerunt was getting a little tired of
bandages. Also she had begun to doubt
and consider bank holiday-scarcely a
fortnight off.
For Sam was stone broke, and a plush
hat was farther away than ever. And
all through the later of these weeks Billy
Chope was harder than ever on his
mother.
There was a milliner's window with a
show of nothing but fashionable plush
and feather hats, and Lizerunt was lin
gering Whereabouts one evening when
some one took her by the waist, and
some one said: (Which dyer like, Lizer?
The yuller un?'
Lizerunt turned and saw it was Billy.
She pulled herself away and backed off,
sullen and distrustful. "Garn," she said.
straight" said Billy. cpl sport yer
one No kid, l will"
"Garn," said Lizerunt once more.
''Wot yer gettin at nowy"
But presently she approached less
g~uardedly, and she went away with a
paper bag and the reddest of all the
pushes and the bluest of all the feath-
ers, a hat that challenged all the fats
the next bank holiday.
AS for Billy, why, he was as good as
another, and you can't have everything,
and Sam Cardew, with his bandages and
his grunts and groans. was no great
catch after all.
This was the wooing of Lizerunt, for
in a few months she and Billy married.
And they lived with Billy's mother
National Observer.