The Winslow mail., 1900-03-08

after there was a succession of deafen-
| ing reports, and amid cloud of smoke
| Smith could see the disintegrating par
ticles of his snake futtering down upon
an empty bed. BiXby threw himself,
yelling, upon the floor, and, casting his
revolver from him, scrambled on all
| fours to the nearest door, which hap
pened to be the one that sheltered
Smith. Grabbing Smith by the knees,
he proceeded to give very fair imita-
ton of fit of Mysteries. Smith seized
the seltzer bottle and gave him the
stream full in the face. 1t was not with
that intention that he had brought it
upstairs, but it answered admirably.
Gasping and choking, Bixby came to
| his senses.
"Tell me it was; tell me it was" he
brokenly besought Smith.
"Of course it was, old man." said
| Smith, perfectly comprehending the
somewhat elliptical query. He knew
what was filling BiXby's tortured mind
to the very brim at that moment. ''It
was a stuffed snake that had about the
| place."
and fervently. "Whew, 1t was awful"
Shooting the rest of the seltzer into
the pitcher of ice, Smith handed it to
him, and he drank chokingly, shaking
all over with the reaction of the relief.
Smith wondered why his friend wasn't
furiously angry at the trick that had
been played on him, and felt himself
somewhat onscience-stricken, but de
termined to make the best of the octa-
sion.
"It might not have been real, Blk" he
said.
Bixby groaned.
you'd never have known the differ
ence," said his host.
Bixby groaned again and pressed
some ice against his head.
"What are you going to do about it?'
asked the persistent Smith.
"Eh?" said Bixby, duly. 'Do? Oh,
my head! You're sure that thing was
there, Smithy? You aren't fooling me?
I wouldn't look into that room for a
thousand"
"Oh, it was there" Smith assured
him. 81 fixed it myself while you were
dead to the world. But don't you think
it's time you whistled down brakes on
this gay career?"
"Smith," said Bixby, after a long
pause, "I'll buy you a new snake. You
give me that one as soon as | feel well
enough to stand its company. Did you
teach it to fly yourself? I-I-I-I-mean-I
guess I'm not very steady yet. lwant it
as memento to remind me of what it
can do if man goes too far, you know
you'll get it as soon as you prove
that you are fit company for I. sober
and decent snake" said Smith
Don't you fear" said Bixby, solemn,
ly. 'This is the end. Three drinks
per day after this is my limit. And
that goes, too. That isn't the common
or garden variety of neXt-morning.
never-again. Bring me out my gun, old
boy. 1 don't feel steady enough to go
in there after it yet"
When Mrs. Smith got home, which
was after Bixby had left, there were
certain matters to be explained to her.
First, there was the snake. Smith said
the cat did it. Then there was the bull
let-rlddled ceiling; he couldn' t say that
the cat did that, but he explained that
it must be the work Of rats. Bridget
had reported hearing shots fired. Smith
said yes, that Bridget was undoubted-
" right; he had heard them himself,
and they seemed to be very near at
hand. Mrs. Smith doesn't tell all she
knows, or even all she believes, and
Smith appreciates this spirit. She now
enjoys the possession of a handsome
snakeskin purse and a cardcase to
match. BiXby has the rattlesnalle,
cleverly put together by taxidermist,
mounted on a panel in his room. Ev
erybody is satisfied except Bridget, who
suspects that she ought not to stay in
house once perforated by the presence
of representative of the prince of
darkness, and the cat, who never did
come back.-N. Y. Sun.