The Press., 1898-12-08

DlMCAntQuCs VI 1OAAObAG0 b4uS J0@ could hear things in that room so clear ly."
 'sIt's a very still night" her hus- band mumbled wisely.
 The footsteps moved softly acrosssthe room again. "Slum chunk P The frag- ments of bottle tinkled on the hard sur died away before there arose the long wall of the overtures to cat battle
 "W-o-o-o-o-o-o, WOW wowP
 Softly and cautiously the footsteps crossed the room again. Again bottle broke and scattered. Again rose the wall of war.
 There was nothing cautious about the footsteps this time. Instead of the clink of bottles heavy boot soles clattered to- gether. The time consumed in gather ing ammunition indicated that an arm ful was being collected.
 Swat-bang-biff-
 "T-f-f-t, wiokokp' yowled a victim.
 "Thank the Lord l'' shouted the Hon. MT. McShane. "Whoopr'
 m-smash-siap-biffl
 "There, by damn !'' they heard MT. McShane mutter. The silence of Sun day morning settled down again.
 The Blackstones slept rig, reously in to daylight, but not so late as they had in tended. AG about the time folks up the state go out to feed the stock before preparing for church there came a rap ping at their bedroom door.
 "Billi Say, Billw said a worried voice.
 "Wassermat?'' asked MT. Blackstone.
 "Did you send anybody into my room to take my shoes out to clean them?" asked MT. McShane.
 "No," responded MT. Blackstone. Whats up:"
 "They're gone, that's all, !" was the melancholy answer. "I put them in the closet when went to bed-the one that isn't the magazine, you know-so that in the excitement of battle I wouldn' I get mixed up and throw them, and now they're gone."
 Mrs Blackstone slipped out of bed and gingerly opened the door of the narrow closet that connected the two rooms.
 "n he put them in here, 7" she said, peering in the darkness, "they certainly | must be here.
 She opened the door a little wide, and shrieked Her husband was beside her in an instant.
 "Look l'' she cried, pointing into tho | closet. "Lookp'
 "For goodness sake, you people, , said wondering voice in the nall whats the matter?' The voice of Blackstone answered him, enunoiating slowly and soiemnly recounting catalogue of things.
 "One quart bottle of mucilage, on, quart bottle of red ink, one quart bottl, of green ink, one-half gallon jug O whisky, enc bottle of Ponds extract one box of dry plates, two bottles of de | veloper, one large bottle of lime wa ter''-
 "One pair of russets, one pair bicycl, shoes, |" Mrs. Blackstone took up tn, list. "The' skirt frame. Your big shoes your patent feathers. your winte shoes''-
 "Gone. all gonep' they said in cho rus.
 "Have you found my shoes. yet?' asked a voice from the hall. | "Your shoesr' bawled MT Black stone. "You good for nothing but sharl bait, steam snowplows Oh, you''- | "WillianIP' said Mrs. Blackstone. | Her husband strode out into the hall He took his guest by the scruff of th neck and led him to the window. Ther' in the area they looked down upon sucl an ink bespattered gnmmy wreck as sel dom man is privileged to look Hoon On the stone steps lay one dead @eat and by his side 8 huge, yellow, gor stained Syracuse boot. The other restet under the largest fragment of the inl bottle. :,
 ''I must have got into the wronI closet, after all," said the Hon. MT McShone after awhile. "And they COS &s. 5O.''
 I His case went against him by defaul the next day because he had to wait fo Blackstone to go down town, his owl feet clad in tennis shoes, and order full assortment of shoes sent to tn house "for @ gentleman with the big gest feet on, earth" But MT. Black stone was unfeeling enough to say b didn't much care.-New York Sun.