The Yale expositor., 1906-06-08
IN THE HAND-PAINTED BEANERY.
BY HUGH McHUGH
George v. Hobart)

and fork and gave me the stalled
gaze.
| never whimpered.
Oh, scold mel scold me!
Lord Hope! sage she. why,
John Henry, you never told me you
knew Lord Hope!"
Didn't II" | says; my! my! how
thoughtless! Well! that's His Lord.
ship all right, all right"
Clara Jane thought while and
carved my initials on a silver of celery.
But you called him Abie!" says
she, after a pause.
Sure thing!" / says; what else?
Want me to call him Nose or Rosey or
Meyer or Ikey? He's not Irish"
Il can't imagine an English noble.
man being called Able" says my lady
friend, for she's a first rate Believer
by nature, but a Doubter when the
dice roll heavy.
was beginning to feel just about
as happy as a hard-boiled egg, but
was in up to my neck and couldn't
boiler for help.
"Englishmen have queer names, es.
pecially noblemen. Say! won't you
have a charlotte russo or an apple fritz
ter?-it'll do you good" | says, hop
ing TO swing the conversation close
enough to the shore so that | could
jump off and take TO the timber.
My finish was ringing the door bell.
Just then Mike Mcguire strolled
into the neighborhood and wanted to
hang up his hat on my hook.
Once in a while Mike breaks into g
theater and tries TO act till some one
catches him with the goods. Then he
apologies, backs out of his harness
and is up and away to the swamps.
Good evening"" says Mike, push
ing out the familiar nst.
I'm right back at him with a short
arm nod of recognition, and in a
minute I'm busy with my beans.
"Feedin', sCe!" says Mike, wish.
ing TO show my lady friend that his
powers of observation are strictly
homemade.
/ gavo him a look that | figured
would comb his hair, bur he's out to
make deep impression on Clara Jane
so my naughty expression didn't finish
one, two, three.
Before | can get back from the
breakaway l find him reciting the sad
story of his life and watching my lady
friend to see if she enjoys light litera-
ture.
"Oh, yes" says Mcclure, II do sc
love the stage. I've been paying the
Provinces for eighteen weeks as Hot.
spur, the Boy Hero, in Ben Hur, and
! was the hit of the show!"
Two to one he was out doing the
potato plantations with a No. Unc.
Toms Cam. Co
About all that guy could mix with
is a parcel of Uncle Tommers.
Finally, after writing about four
chapters and getting his life lines
crossed with George Washington,
Nanny Friend, John Mccullough and
Tod Sloan, he begins to notice that
the wind is blowing chill across the
wild moor so he signals the conductor
and hops off the wagon.
"Who was that?" inquiries my lady
friend, as Mcclure ambles back to his
own table.
That" | says; ooh! that was the
Earl of Yarmouth"
Clara Jane handed me swift
glance, then she patted her hat-pins
and grabbed her gloves.
Come along, John Henry!" says
she, King Edward will be here in a
minute and after what I've read about
him | don't think | care to meet him.
Let's go home"
She wins in a whisper.
It'll take three weeks to square my.
self.
Hereafter, me to Dement'S! Me to
the stack O. wheats symposium where
the rest of the entries stick to their
stalls. Where the outside conversa-
tion is confined to Draw one!" and
Boil two, meejum!"
No more swell Sandwich Salons fer
me. where the grafters want to butt in
all the while.
Oh! scold me! scold me.
Copyright, 1901. by G. w Dillingham; co.