The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-01-09
COPyriSkt 1908 by BenJ.B.HampfoN.

1%GI E AAGA
 copyright 1908 by BenJB.HAmptoN
 hunted stag drinking from iak- slowly strength 'eturneo. and with it the realization of what she
 Taking last big breath of the blessed air. she made another rush for the room the rear. But he smoke hand, seiizng her by the throat, forced her, staggering. back to the window.
 There was pitcher of water upon the table. She seized it, then snatched lone scarf from the mantelpiece (bang! went the little clock to the floor, and went ticking with it's idiotic cheer fulness). She soaked the scarf in the water and tied over her and mouth. Then taking her direction carefully, she shut her eyes and made another rush into the smoke depths
 It was gropng, blind charg it seemed long and she losing of direction when at last, like blessing she felt to right and left the walls of the narrow bath room. She brought up against obstacle. It was the door. She opened it. She within the room.
 Here the smoke was little less thick. She closed the door behind her and made for the bed. In the suffocat-ng darkness her two hands met two other hands. These were limp
 She pushed arms beneath him, and raised him up against her bosom; carrying him. she opened the ooor and staggered out
 But the smoke now, if in frenzy at being cheated, eddied about her in mad Whirl as of a myriad carrion birds again, heavy and naccid. the Hand placed l.~elf upon her mouth. She went on step, two steps, then fell, with her bulde
 Close to the floor there. though. there was a remnant of air. She crawled on alone, to the win dow took three long life-savng gulps then crawied back, seized two outstretched hands. and. pulling madly, drew the unconscious form toward her. She laid it the sill head in the air, then drawing 1t up against her again. stepped out with 1t upon ever the ice-smooth streets; Policeman Mulcahy, who had been delayed slightly by an inter esting anecdote told too interestingly and completely in Patrick Doalan's cafe, was running up the fire es- cape, and the Muck-Raker {returning from the theater), and the two Sun Hooking for trou- ble) were meeting to nose, very much excited.
 They were just in time to see very pretty pie ture; upon the second-foor balcony the Pallid Child, in a white garment like angels leaning back against the wall with head dropping like a tired lily's, holding in her arms if it were a babys. the limp form of the Crippled Hero.
 Here, it must be said, at the risk of an anti climax, that, if there is smoke ever without q fire, this was an awful lot of smoke about mighty
 It was smudge, more than fire, and was rapidly put out by the brave fremen. :,
 Tick-atickatick, r-r-r; tick-atick-r-rr" went the typewriter of the Muck-Raker in the inside parlor
 Why did you do it?" said the Crippled Hero to the Pallid Child.
 He was in his wheeled chair and she was on the sofa. The chair was uncompromisingly facing her, and his gray eyes rested upon her in sof luminous. but stubborn inquisition.
 The room, by the way. was marvelously clean, much cleaner than Lizzie had ever had 1t. You could see that fremen had passed through here s'
 ck-atick-atick-r-r-r-r-roo." went the type writer; tck-atick-atick-r-rr-roo." Why did you do it?" repeated the Crippled
 "Oh." said the Pallid Child (and she wasn't tell ang ang the truth that bad faal pad Ghd know; who can tell?) II knew you were in there; and that John (the Muck-Raker) out: and that your chair was broken The elevator boy had told me the chair broken. He's an awfully nice elevator boy. isn't he? The other day. when and do you know. he wouldn't take any tip; no, sir. not one cent I was going to Texas. But I my my mind. Mamma. she 'sa says T I'm always changing my mind. But don't. Not near as much she thinks; a1Hs,, Nov. Nov sister. she~ e., -o"o ~ Hero, calmly and evenly. The eyes of the PaIlid Child dilated with weary. haunted, persecuted look her lips pursed in bout and, pouting. began to tremble.
 But she caught herself sharply. "oh. you will keep on asking such questions!" she said. ''I don't know. just came down, ran down, and then happened to remember you were there. The ele- 6a yator b9y had had told me John had gone to ban, He's awfully clever It must be hard to get up and 5pea ak lots of fe speech. When I was at the convent A little bit orable Crippled Hero.
 Again the Paid Child's eyes went wide with a haunted look, and her lips began to tremble But this time the eyes kept on going wider and wider, and the lips kept on trembling, and suddenly she had slid off the sofa to her knees on the hoor and would break.
 "Oh." she said between sobs; ooh, don't-I don't want to marry-I don't want to marry MT. Halton-ooh-ooh-ooh!'
 The Crippled Heros right hand laid itself upon the little head shaking there beneath him: his eyes rested upon it, upon the palpitating little body below, and poured about them luminous tenderness; and his voice had grave resonance that filled the room.
 well. you won't have to. little Pallid Child" he said soothingly; 'us won't have to. bless us ones!'
 "Tick' went the typewriter behind the portieres. stopping abruptly. There the sound of door dscreetly opened, discreetly shut the Crippled Hero and the Pallid Child were alone in the apart 1nent.
 Actress Lady," said the Muck-Raker. "rm get ting bald, I'm lonely, want home. Will you give Johnnie homer"
 The Actress Lady looked at him long, and search ing1y (and tendery).
 "Muck-Raker," she said, "I don't think you're ready for home. Maybe you're meant to get bald, and get bald alone. You're moved, fear, mostly by spirit of emulation. The kiddies in the front have started you sentimentalizing."