Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1903-10-16
ALL I'm THE SILLY MIGHT.
hDagtnation Got the Better Of Judw-
ment I'm BIibmore's Case and
Made Him RddIcuIous.

body had ever tried TO enter his
house feloniously and tangibly, but
many masked desperate had bro
ken into his Imagination and robbed
him of much valuable sleep. Hardly
night passed that he did not have
a rush of burglars TO the head as he
went about, fastening windows, set
ting electric alarms and fitting
chairs in the passageways so they
would tumble over and make racket
if anybody touched them, says the
Brooklyn Eagle.
"Parmelia," he said to his wife one
night, ''haye you been up to see if
the girls window is locked?''
NO, nor amt a-goin'; that's
more" Mrs. Blibmore answered.
sharply, from her pillow. "Sakes
aliyel How could anybody git in at
a third story window? Do you ex-
pect 'em to come with hyin' ma
chinese"
"All right" said Blibmore, re-
signedly. Il can STAN it if you can
But when you git up some mornin'
don't come to me for any more"
Joshua Blibmore, you've been say
I'm that for the las 20 years, an
we've got them same spoons yet.
Goodness graciousi / most wish
the burglar'd hurry up and git EN-,
SOS to have it over with"
Blibmore slept very little that
night; and even that little was trou-
bled by dreams of burglars letting
themselves down to the girls win
dow from the roof or climbing up
to it with 40-foot ladders. Some time
sitter midnight. as he lay awake lis
Nsning. he thought he heard noise
downstairs. Slipping cautiously into
the upper hall, he leaned over the
banister and harked. Yes, he was
sure he heard the sibilant sounds of
whispers below.
Tip-toeing back to the bedroom, he
closed the door noiselessly and awoke
his wife.
SSH Parmelia," he whispered, "the
house is full of burglarsi"
"Stuff and nonsensei" said Mrs.
Blibmore, who had heard the same
remark many times before. "Do, for
mercy's sake, git into bed an go to
sleep"
"But, Parmelia, tell you there are
burglars downstairs. heard EN-"
''Well. why don't you go down an
chase 'em out? You don't want me
to do it for you, do your" With
which the good woman turned over
and resumed her slumber.
Blibmore, revolver in hand, stole
out to the hall and listened again
This time he heard no sound. save
the measured ticking of the dining
room clock. As minutes of silence
passed, he began TO doubt whether
what he had heard before was really
in the house. 1t might have been q
street car; trolleys sometimes make
Kissing noises that at a distance
may be mistaken for whispers close
at hand. Somewhat embroidered by
this thought, he went softly down
the stairs, stopping often to bark
with bated breath. At the dining
room door he stood, well behind the
easement, and peered cautiously into
the room. The light, which he al
ways left burning low for just such
an emergency, enabled him to see
that there was nobody there; so he
ventured in and turned it up. As he
did so a sharp SSH" came through
the closed door of the closet just
behind him-the closet where the
silver was kept. Blibmore leaped be-
hind a corner of the sideboard and
called out hoarsely:
"Who's there?"
"Bangl" A loud report from tie
closet was the answer.
Bang! went Blibmore's pistol, as
he broke from the room and dashed
up the stairs, four steps at jump.
The shooting had aroused Mrs.
Blibmore, and she sprang from bed
Just as her husband bounded into tho
room. slamming and locking the door
behind him.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
"I've killed a burglar-I guess"
Blibmore gasped.
"Killed a burglar? Where?"
"In the dining-room closet. He
shot at me through the door, and /
shot back at him."
Mrs. Blibmore had her doubts. She
knew her husband. Regardless of
his warning she opened the door and
listened over the banister. All was
quiet below.
"I don't believe a word of IT," said
she, starting down the stairs.
ssParmelia." Blibmore implored,
"don't go down there. I tell you
they're armed to the teeth"
"Fetch that pistol, then, an come
along with me-" said she. "We'll see
about It."
Blibmore kept close to his wife,
whose courage was doubtless aug
mented by the belief that the bur
glars existed only in her husbands
imagination.
At the dining-room, however. she
paused with a look of horror on her
face. In the bright light she saw a
small red stream trickling out under
the closet door.
didn't / tell you SOP" Blibmore's
voice had a hollow sound. didn't I
say killed a burglar? Shan't I GO