The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-06-22
(Continued.A

| &AAAtAltAtoeeeeoeoeeS eoeeSeessssssssssssss (ContinuedA l NO? You wouldn't be likely to, ] | s'pose. While you're home eVenn
 learnin' hymns. he's out learnln n1e | Spends most of his evenins round al | the fire-house. Why. that kid knows | the name of each engine in town the
 minute he hears 'em whistle- Gives eyes grew wistful with envy;
 yet abated none or the the uneonsc9TI neon stiII scrutinizing the Fighter. His lack ol | response confused Caleb: who started off on q new tack.
 | "Yes. Billy'S a great boy He used | to have a .ot of cunuin tricks. too | when he was little. He's out-grown1n | 'cm now. Used to tiptoe up behind me | an put both his dirty little hands over | my eyes an say: Guess who's here? An when I'd guess General Grant an | Abe Lincoln and Queen Victoria an Tom Platt' an lot of other big guns | till all of a sudden I'd guess Billy | Shevlin,' An he'd squeal cut 'Yes,' Not much sense in it. But kind of cute | for such little feller- I remember some folks were callin' there one day | an I wanted him to play that game | to show off before 'em. But he was kind of bashful and wouldn't. An that made me mad: so I cuffed him over | the head. An since then. somehow he's never played it any more"
 "I don't wonder!" sped Give. I-
  T didn't mean to be rude.' "Go ahead-' laughed Caleb. That
 ain't rude. It's bein' honest. Don't let
 'em make a Miss Nancy of you by
 please an Sir an all those fold erols."
 1T like to say them" retorted Give.
 And I'm not a Miss Nancy. Last week thrashed a boy two years older than I am.''
 Look out. Conoverl" warned Caine. solemnly. "He may pick you for the next victim"
 At the sound of the name. Give had glanced sharply at Caleb.
 'I beg your pardon he put in. now. But you aren't Brute Conover. are you?"
 what severity he could summon up.
 ''I b'lieve I've been called that a few times" answered Caleb. in high good humor. ''Why?"
 "Because," said. Give. backing to- ward the door. from what I read in the newspapers about you.-and from something once heard Grandpa say I don't think I care to know you. MT.
 Caleb Conover had not known there were so many kinds of folks in exist ence. From his oyster plate they stretched away to the left in what seemed an interminable vista. Had Desiree told him to begin with the left hand fork and work inward. as the courses progressed? Of was it the and work outward? A furtive glance at Lefty. on his fight, solved the prob lem.
 Then. the same glance sweeping the whose doubled napkin had not disap- peared. He pulled it unnoticed down to his knee A roll fell from it's hidden interior and crashed to the floor with AIo& l,s~ I~,,, enough to shake the house. But the sound passed unheard. in the ripple of talk. Caleb kicked the offending bit of bread further under the table and sombrely attacked his oysters.
 A cocktail had heralded the meal. This. with his glass of dry sherry. now began little by little to cut away the Fighters crust of straight self-con- sciousness. He was not wont. of late years. to touch liquor at all: although in early days his Gargantuan drinking bouts had been the wonder of the local Underworld. On his unaccustomed senses the slight stimulant now acted with redoubled force. It happened his wits. banished his first feeling of stiff discomfort. enabled him to come out of himself and take note of what went on about him.
 Caine talking animated1y just op- posite. was nevertheless looking un- obstrusively at Conover. So were Reu- | ben Standish and others at the table |
 
 ment the big. silent man had per- petrated thus far nine of the capers | which comic stories ascribe to par venus He handled his soup-spoon with | an inward sweep. it is true: but he ate | quietly and as one not wholly unac- customed to civilized methods. De- siree's long and stern training was him in good stead.
 Lefty. emboldened by these repeated | signs of housebrokenness. ventured | few perfunctory remarks to him. Caleb replied briefly. but without em- He even answered a question put him from across the table | with the same self-possession- Caine relaxed his nervous vigilance. His re- luctant admiration for the newcomer was increasing.
 Conover. with the true fighters in- tuition. noted all the tokens of his own well-heing. and his dawning self-pos- session grew steadily stronger.
 The talk at his end of the table had turned into musical channels.
 We were able to get Miss Tyson for the musicale after all." Lefty was saving. "She was to have sung at the Worcester Music Festival. you know: but at the last moment they engaged else.'
 'we are SO grateful" chimed in Mrs Standish. managing to inject just a little recognition of the Divine into her one. "She has a wonderful voice. In | she once sung the Forest Bird music in performance of Siegfried. lust think! One of our own towns tool"
 She cast a vitreous beam athwart the a ble as she spoke. Caine used to say hat when Mrs. Standish's glasses diff used that look. he was always sore empted to bow his head and murmur 
 Yes" prattled the Saint. "her's is a gift I believe that sing ng may often bear a meSSa ge-"
 Its easier. I should think" put ip yaleb. suddenly finding his tongue as le set down his empty wine glass. "for woman to sing like a forest bird han for a bird to sing songs made up ,y humans.
 "Fvr instance" he proceeded. with enewed courage. mistaking the gen ral hush of surprise for a gratifying interest. there's lady I know here n Granite who has a canary bird that Lings all ahout the death of ASe. Sings