Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1909-03-27
Annexed the Would-Be Pickle"

ing off the bridge or of putting bal
in that vacuum where your gray matter
ought To be. II you're asking me,
should say that the gun way would oe
better. Here's the gun. Its thirty-eight
and all of the chambers are loaded. Now
get busy. Make your shuttle off. It'll
make a hit with everybody that knows
you when he hears about it,"
The Pickle took the pistol In very
eingerly manner.
We'll. it's about the only thing left for
me to do. isn't it," he inquired feebly,
flaccidy and wabblefully Of his cousin.
yep" was the instant reply. Moth
ing else to it. You're no good on earth
you know. You're a fathead and you TO
only littering and numbering the earth.
You don't belong. You're an Internal
nuisance. You're a born crab and you IL
be going backward as long YOU live.
Better flag the whole game right now.
and without any more chewing the rag
about IL. either. Now get busy. l haven
got time to stick around here with
rummy all night. I've got a date to play
bridge. Just pop that pellet into your
empty nut and let me get away from
here in time TO keep my appointment.
will YOU
"Well, you're DANCED cold blooded about
it, that's all I've got 10 say growled
the Pickle the temperishness rising in
his voice.
vi. upll you DOiHer Nlldt l. ABOUT
it," said the cousin. Il wouldn't talk to
a sure-enough man this way. but any
thing goes with you. You've got no self
respect. no sense of shame. You're just
mud. You never will be anything else
but mud. Everybody knows that you re
nothing but mud-nl- u-double-d, mud.
You've got no right TO stick around on
the earth. You're tramp. You're hobo.
lDorA
You wouldn't even make a decent lum-
Der jack or longshOreman. Fellows like
that have got it on you forty ways. They
work for their rum, anyhow, and that's
more than YOU do or ever did. But what's
the use of. Standing here Ginning? You
know all these things. Go ahead. now.
and dent up that shell-like skull of yours
and femme get away from here, Will
you?"
Tie Pickle looked as sore as a butcher.
Why you big chucklehead." lie hawled
at his cousin as he deliberately tossed the
gun over the bridge parapet into the dark
ravine. what the devil do you mean by
handing me out mess of talk like that.
hey? For cents I'd kick You full OF
buttonholes right here and now. No good,
am i? Well. I'll show you and all the
rest of YOU cheap knockers something,
YOU big chaw-bacon! I'm just much OF
an all-there hombrey as you or the likes
of you ever dared TO be. you big piece 81
Roquefort. and I'll show you a few tricks
10 prove IL. that 5 all. Ana he hopped
into the carriage and told the driver to
beat 1t away from there, and left his
cousin standing on the bridge in the dim
ness.
But the cousin didn't appear 10 mind
being left there in the dimness. In fact,
he laughed softly to himself.
His soft laughter had found its juStif-
cation. That more than a year ago.
The former mollusc hasn't hit single
high spot since. He hasn't taken a drop.
His jaw has sort of squared out. He's
his mothers financial affairs in
a mighty Shrewd. accumulative sort OF
Il way. He's all through with the Pickle
stuff. He was sore on his cousin for the
lambasting him for six months or So. but
now they're the greatest kind of pals.
Occasionally it is only necessary to ap-
ply the caustic to a certain nerve in the
makeup of the Pickle or the would-be
Pickle. If that nerve can only be found
he'll buck up and do the rest.