Williston graphic. (Williston, Williams County, N.D.) 1895-1919, 1903-08-20
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a Discord in
a lat
~ HARLE oREN cUrr1Ns
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Eopyrisht. I'm, b. Daily Story Pub. Co..

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I Copyright. I'm, by Daily sesry Pub Co.,
Mrs. Edith HornunE "a hishly-struns
woman.) @
49,, Nj. Jack Hornung Gust an average man,
Mrs. Medlar "a sympathetic friend. also
tuned q little above concert)
Scene-A non-hous excepting fiat uptown.
Tlme-Nearly nine a. m. ss
A FEW HARAlONICS.
The Average Man, (buttoning up
his overcoat) -"Well, dear, I must be
of. Its the first of the month, you
know, and there is lots to do at the
Office ,>os *, aSasza
The Highly-Strung Woman GENDER
ly)-Poor old Jackets. Has to work
like slave all day SO his little wife
can wear the latest things in fou-
lards. ,
The A. M-Oh, by the way, I have
comps. for the Hollis tonight. Would
you like to go? .-<$....-
The II. S. W.-Would like to go!
Why, you dear boy, I should say I
would. That's where Held is playing
and I've just been dying to see if
those fifteen hundred dollar dresses
of hers are real or not.
The A. -M.-Don't plan too much on
it, for may not get the tickets.
There's an awful rush for seats and
the 'specs" have bought up almost
everything. If do get them I'll be
home early and we'll 60 over TO the
Somerset to dinner. ((He kisses her
and starts for the elevator. She fol-
lows him. .
The II. S. Willow perfectly love-
ly! But Jackets, dear, who's going
to give you the comps? You haven't
any friends on the stage, have you?
The A. M.-Oh. I've lots of friends
you've never heard about. Good-by,
dear. Gle enters the elevator and dis
appears. The HighiyStrung Woman
sits down and begins wondering if
Jack means what he said, and if he
really has lot of friends on the
stage.)
- THE DISCORD.
Late afternoon. The Highly Strung
Woman in the sitting room of the
uptown fiat reading the latest novel.
The Average Man enters.
Mrs. H.-Back SO soon. dear, and
its hardly five o'clock. Oh, did you
get the tickets? .[
Mr.. H.-Yes, there they are. (Hands
her: a small theatrical envelope.)
Mrs. Fl. Clearing open envelope and
examining bs)-What luck! We're
way down in D. Now III find out if
they are $1,000 dresses or not. You'll
have to promise me, Jack, not to
make goo-goo eyes at any of the
chorus girls, for We'll be almost in
the bald-headed row.
Mr.. H.-You seem to forget that
I'm out of college now, and that 1
have become a sedate old married
man of Twenty-Five. Whew! but I'm
tired. Throws himself down on the
couch; she picks up the pass which
accompanies the stubs.)
Mrs. II. (reading aloud)-On &C.
count of Kit. Who on earth il this
Kitty, Jack?
Mr.. H. (foolishly trying to joke
with highly-strung woman)-Why,
that's one of the forty-thousand-dol-
lar chorus girls. L used to know her
before I met you-and reformed.
Mrs. H. (excitedly)-You don't
mean It,, Jack, do you? You don't
know any of those horrid creatures?
Tell me you were just trying to
plague me.
Mr.. H. (soothingly)-Of course I
was only joking. Don't get so ex-
cited, my dear. You fly up like
skyrocket. never knew any chorus
girls.
Mrs. H.-You did too. Mrs. Medlar
told me so the other day, and she
knew you before you ever heard of
me. She says you used to be regu-
lar rounder, Jack.
Mr.. H. (energetically)-Darn Mrs.
Medlar and her continued meddling.
If any woman was ever well named
its she.
Mrs. H.-Now don't get profane,
Jack. There's no need of losing your
temper about it. I'm beginning to
believe you do know some girl in the
troup, and that's where you got
those complimentaries.
Mr.. H. Cmpatiently)-I told you I
was only fooling. Besides, chorus
girls don't have tickets to give away.
They never give anything away. But
believe whatever that gossiping old
hen tells you. I don't know that it
makes much difference.
Mrs. H. (on the verge of tears)-
Why, Jack, how can you say such
horrid things to me. OF course it
makes all the difference in the world.
You know if really did believe it
Id go back to mother tomorrow.
Mr.. H. thoroughly exasperated)-
Well, that would be pleasanter for
me than having mother in law come
here.
(The Highly-Strung Woman begins
to weep. At the same time the maid
ushers in Mrs. Medlar, who has run
in from the fiat below.)
Mrs. H.-Emily!
Mr.. H.-Oh, Hades.
Mrs. M.-Why, Edith, what on