The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-06-22

iy. A most f1attering attention-far o1Herent from the slight a1oofness of
 Lne evenings earlier moments-greeted
 ms every word. Caine, however. seem ed actually jealous of his friends 1 popularity: for he cut in now with a
 complete change of subject.
 wonder he conjectured. address | Ing no one in particular. why tenors invariably are born without inteIli- | gence. When Providence gives a man ! great tenor voice. He gives him
 s noenins else. Perhaps. though. he | needs nothing else"
 But an avalanche of trite saying
 could not have halted Caleb. He list
 ened with ponderous deference to | came; then glanced about the table
 and cleared his voice.
 Speak1n of 'needin' nothin' else' 9
 said he. reminds me of Old Man
 Wetherwolks who used to live at
 Pompton when I was a kid. He used
 to get jagged as reg'lar as payday
 came round. Had a battin' av'rage of seven nights week. Then when
 he'd blowed his last nickel he'd make
 us boys pilot him home. It wasn't any
 cfnch. either. For his wife was always | waitin' at the door. An the chunks
 of language she'd hand out to us
 would a fried an iceberg. One night,
 remember. we brought the OF sot
 home worse'n usual. She was right | there with the tongue-lashin'. She told | hum what a swine he was to spend all
 his fam'ly's cash on booze and how | he was a disgrace to his town, am | other nice comfortin' things like that
 She wound up by screechin': An you | haven't a single redeemin' trait, you
 worthless drunkard! That was too on the bottom step and began to cry. 1 You're right. m'dear.' he whines.
 'Ev'ry word you say is true. I haven't
 single redeemin' trait. But an l S-ern am noble. But in ev'ry respec' | I'm dam fine manr"
 | The anecdote somehow did not "go'' 1 as we'll as when Conover had told it
 in the back room of jKerrigan's saloon. But if there was constraint in its re- | ception. he did not observe 1t. Lefty. | dropping her voice, to shut him out of | the general talk. inquired: Where is Pompton? I don't think
 I ever heard of it. Did l. Are our
 Pompton Avenue and the Pompton Club named for it?''
 'I don't think SOL he answered Its Jersey hills. Swarmin' with commut- CTS. by now. I s'pose. I used to live there for while. once. when I was learnin' railroadin'. There's a lake. down around it like they loved it. The sun used to set bout a mile from our house. It'd turn the like all gold color. An then blue sort of twilight would roll up through the valley. Am the hills would seem to stretch out like they was gOin' to Sleep.-Kind O. pretty place." he ended 1amely.
 You are a poet" the girl assured him with gushing une-~:-~ss "I had no idea you looked at nature through such roseate glasses"
 Neither I do.'' he replied. ashamed of his unwonted flight of fancy. "I was only tellin' you know it used to seem 70 me when I was half-baked kid. Since then I've been so busy liv- in that I've lost all the knack of get tin enthooSed over measly lan'scapes They don't fa AS for po'try.-honeSt, I never wrote a rhyme in my life. Never read one neither when I could help it. Guess you was Stringin' me. weren't you?'
 Nevertheless he was inwardly hatter- ed at her praise and began to look on her with an even more favoring eye. If marriage in such a set were really the keystone to social achievement he felt he might do far worse than choose this comedy. uuivering-nosed damsel at his side.
 Fond of rabbits?' he asked-as un- intentionally as irrelevantly.
 What an odd question: she cried, | her round eyes raising incipient dis tresS signals. "IS it a joxe?"
 Nc" he answered. f1oundering. 'I- I just happened to say it. You-you look just a little like one. very pretty one of course.'' he supplemented with mammoth gallantry.
 Her eyes. this time. hoisted the dis tress signal so perceptibly that Cafne. | skilled to read the signs. broke off in | the midst of a sentence to his right | hand neighbor and engaged Caleb in momentary conversation. Lefty. in the | interval. stared appealing1y about the | board. But. thanks to her own sue cess tn drawing Conover into tete a | tete. the others were not. at the in- stant. noticing either of them. Thrown upon herself for comfort. she decided | the rough guest had intended his asinine remark as a compliment The l. thought did much to console her. She glanced. sideways. at him. with new interest: and. Caine. relieved. saw the Fair Weather standard flying once more.
 But Conover. subtly aware of her knew he had somehow blum dered. He saw how far he had de- fected from his original plan of stony He knew it was the few glasses of wine he had drunk which while in no way befuddling his brain. had given his tongue an undue loose ness. A wave of selEcontempt passed over him: sharp. unaccustomed. A bent to fill one of his glasses. Caleb. recalling the etiquette book maxim. clapped his hand hastily over the top of the goblet The ges ture was sudden and carried with it an unintended force. The wrought stem of the thin Venetian glass snap ped.
 Conover. purple with angry mortif- cation. surveyed the wreck he had Then. pulling himself to-
  glare behind his forced grin challeng- ing any and every eye that might dare to show derision.
 "It doesn't matter. MT. Standish!" he called down the table to his host. "Il1 save the pieces and send you a whole set like it tomorrow. Where d'you buy it?''
 .'It is of no consequence at all," re- turned Standish. the consumption spots on his cheek bones burning little darker red than usual. He turned to the neighbor with whom he had been talking. and with his usual dry cough took uD the shattered thread of con versa ation- But Caleb was reSoIVed not to permit his overtures at restitu- ton to be s1ighted.
 ''Where'd you buy it?" he repeated. raising his voice a little. "I want to know so T."
 ''It is of no importance at all." pro- tested StandiSh. guiltily avoiding his saintly gaze. "I-" "But I want to know. persisted he l