The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-06-29

But" asked Caine, interested in spite of himself, there was surely danger that the Cobra might drop the little snake and strike at the man. If"
 That's just the pcint," cried Caleb. "He wouldn't. His pizen an his tenn per was otherwise engaged. He'd sunk his fangs into one emmy. An it ain't cobra natur' to let go. once he's got his grip. I found that out by askin' one of the keepers. The man with the mop was as safe in that cage. just then. he'd a. been in a Meth'dist Conf'rence. The Cobra had just one idee. An that idee was already on the job.
 Now, maybe you're wonderin' what this long yarn has to do with Blacarda. It has ev'rything to do with him. He's the King Cobra sort. if ever any man | was. An in his case. I'm the man | with the mop. B1acarda's fitted out with a whole lot of fancy venom. An he'd like nothin' better'n to get his fangs in me. I can't say exac'ly blame him. But ain't hankerin' to l get bit. So I throws into his cage little snake called 'Steeloid.' An he | in that. he ain't got the bigness of mind to bite anything else. When | SteeIoid's over. I'll toss him another 1 little snake. an so on to the end Of | the chapter. He'll keep gnawin' away, l with the idee he's hurtin' me terr' ble. An I'll go bout my winder-washin' l business meanwhile: knowin' he's too much took up with his little snake to | do me any hurt. Why, son. twas one of my men that put Blacarda up to this scheme of gettin' a special session | called so he could knock my Steeloid Comp'ny out"
 Caine made no reply but watched Caleb mop the precipitation of un- | wonted verbosity from his forehead. At l last he asked. with his bantering smile:
 Have you read me. by any chance:" | Have read my A. B.. C.?'' retorted Caleb in fine contempt.
 | "But-'
 I'm not buyin' red can'py an giv- in two-dallar character readin's," said l Conover bruSquely. Ever in the Adir- ondacks? Anything to do there?" | "Plenty-for the man who can ap- preciate it's glories," retorted Caine with pleasant insolence. "Very little for man of your type, should, fancy. Why?" ysss
 "I hope maybe you could put me on to some of the pointers answered Caleb. Its the first vacation I ever had. An I want all the fun out of it can get. But Pm blest If I know where the fun comes in"
 | "A ward heeler would probably re- gard Corot in much the same way, observed Caine. still inwardly smarting at the Fighters good natured con tempt. But surely Miss Shevlin must have told you in some of her letters | the sort of life they lead there-some- thing of her amusements? You can probably get better idea of it all l from her letters than from anything I 1 could tell you. Doesn't She-?" | "Oh ev'ry letter she writes is full of | it," acquiesced Caleb, gloomily. "But I can't make out what the good times are. Just listen to this,ssf'r instance. First letter I had from her. No. The second.''
 From & drawer he drew a small metal case unlocked and opened it. It | full pf anCn1Ona | met Gaines inquesftive eye bore De- siree Shevlin's handwriting. Selecting one from the budget, Caleb opened it | with a strangely gentle motion of his ] stubby fingers, glanced in silence over | the few lines, then read aloud:
 Its like some wonderful dream and | every day I'm afraid I shall wake up i and find it isn't so. The air is like sam Why in blazes," interpolated Conover, in perplexity, should any body want to dip crystal in balsam. I | can't-'
 "Go on' adjured Caine, "I under stand.'
 CT fell as if I were on the top of the world," pursued the letter. The sky is so big. so near. And it seems | old mountains. The Antlers is on a side hill, partly cleared of forest and running down to Raquette Lake, The hotel is white and it's on the top of | the SlOpe. It d ulCe nOCel, they say I've only been in it twice. Almost mo- body is ever indoors except at night or when it rains. And most of the people don't live at the hotel itself. They live in the cottages and lodges and tent: and eat in the two big din- ing rooms that are houses by them selves. It's the outdoorest place ever saw. We row and fish and tramp and swim and loaf all day. and go on pie nics. And late in the afternoons there's a regular fleet of boats that put out into the lake to watch the sunset. The Sunset F1eer,' call them. And in the evenings we go to the open camps and llie back among the balsam boughs and watch the big camp fires and tell stor- ies and sing college songs. And some times we coax Ed Bennett to come down to the camp with his violin and give us The ArkanSaw Traveller or tell us one of his stories. He has the vocabulary of a. college professor. He knows all the Adirondack books, and he reads us chapters from them.
 "And by ten o'clock, generally. ev- can sleep in town. One man in a tent left his mouth. open when he went to sleep the other night, and made funny | V-shaped noises that got all three of the dogs to barking and walked every body up. There's the loveliest collie here. His name is Rex. He has adopt ed me and goes everywhere with me. Sometimes even when I haven't any
 
 him and take him home. But MT. Bennett,-not Ed, but his brother, the proprietor,-won't sell him for any price. Isn't it horrid? Rex and Sieg- fried-Mickey would get on beautifully together, I know. And their color schemes harmonize so perfectly.
 "And-Oh. I forgot!-there's a yellow kitten here. too. that's made friends with me And what do you suppose one of the boys did the other evening ? We had a welsh-rarebit party at the open camp, and he poured beer all over the yellow kittens fur. just before we went away. And of course cat like. she licked it all off. And she came bounding into my room ten minutes later in a perfectly scandalous condi- tion. The beer she had licked up from her fur had gone to the poor little things head. Her eyes were as big as saucers and she purred all the time like a. wagon-ful of rattly steel rails. And she went dancing round in cir 1 cleS on three lees and irving to cliInh