Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1896-03-14
BY sayin'. loud applause bows to me an.

by sayin'. loud applause: bows to me an
pauses.
"'You needn't be bowin' to me; 1 never
said q word says I.
"'AI the same. that's the place for the
applause says he. An IL you can't see it
In purseed to make 1t plain to you. Now,
ladies' an gentlemen and members of the
Glee Club. the crisis which is now approach
in
Confodnd the crisis which is now ap-
rroachin',' says l. How much longer is this
we're burcussed foolishness goin' to contin-
EerT
1t hain't much more than fairly begun
yet. says he. 'Thar's 'thunders of ap-
plause," loud laughter" cries of good!
good" an "deafenin' cheers" to come yet
Don't want to hear EN- says /.
But might jest as well have addressed
my remarks to the wind that far around
with fragments strewed the sea, as the Teller
my good an then went on with the obse-
quies. Thar 1 was, bound hand an foot,
You may say. by the dirt I'm which was
planted: jest had to linger right whur I
was at an grin an bear it. while he be-
meaned an riddyculed me an my party an
my political shibboleths, they call 'em in
stories. till I was plumb wild frequently
interruptin' himself to remark parenthet.-
cally. as it were. loud laughter 'tumultuous
applause an SO on.
at wasn't no use for me to try to inter-
rupt fim-his voice. bein' a public speaker.
was heap stronger than mine an he out
smart number Of objection. but pshaw--all
the good I done was to make him shoot it
into me hotter an harder.
wal, for upward of an hour he contin-
nered to heller his insultin' an diohollycal
theories. frequently interruptin' himself
with applause. an simply talkin' me down
an ignorin' me whenever I attempted to set
him right. My righteous indignation
throwed me into a ragin' fever. but could
not do anything but stick thar In the dirt an
suffer. Bime-bye, Jest my head was lop-
that thar demon remarked 'uproarous APP
pause thanked me for my kind attention.
bowed profoundly an began to fold up his
cussed MANUSCRIPT.
"'That thar was a middin' good speech'
says he, cheerily. AN hope II has done you
good. friend Cusack. At any rate
Honorable PUNK Skee" says /, in an
awful voice. I'm humane man an believe
in givin' my prey fair warnin'. So my earh-
est advice is for you to tear out of we're while
yet the lamp holds out TO burn. Me an you
have been friends in the past. but am yere
to say that the pipe of peace Is now broke.
I'll be dug out eventually, hope an trust,
an the first act of my life after that will be
to smear on my war paint an take your
trail 1 have spoken"
what did he say to that?" inquired Al
kali Ike. who seemed to be interested.
He jest laughed" was the wrathful re-
ply. Its all right. He laughed then, but
as soon as git a hold of him the boot will
be on the other side OF his mouth. lemme
tell you! In make him think he don't live
yere."
HIN! How's your ague, by now"
Hain't thought nothin' about it-reckon
left ii in the hole
wal, now. looky yere. Cusack" said Ike.
pacifically. Il reckon that thar ragin' fever
that PUNK throwed you into combined with
the curative properties of the dirt drove the
ague out OF you, an instead of huntin' PUNK
with club You ort to thank him for curin'
you"
HUH" growled the old man, contemptu-
DUSTY. And, making no further reply he
gee-hawed his team around and drove
toward the prairie, wagging his head omin~
ously.