Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-11-06

heart hull lot more than / am said
the friend. breathing hard. What's it
your business, anyhow, how soused
was?''
None whatever" replied the truth
teller. "As I recollect the matter. YOU
asked me IL you were intoxicated when
l met you yesterday afternoon, and re-
piled that you were
oh. just like that, hey?" snapped the
friend. his breath coming fast well.
by gosh. I'd like to know what the deuce
you've got TO edo with it if / was lit up
and I'm not admitting that was, at
that! You don't have to pay for my rum.
that's one thing. I'd like to know where
it's your slam-in if l ease a little red-eye
into my diaphragm once in a while
that's what I'd like to know. It's up to
somebody that knows you to let you
member of the Buttinski Association.
that's what ii is. Hereafter I'll thank you
to keep your lectures to yourself. / don't
need your homilies on the booze question
or anything else'' and he wheeled around
and wheezed on his way. saving the air
with his arms.
Just as he was about to turn into his
office the truth-teller heard a hail and
an optimistic friend. seated i'm a decidedly
fattletybang automobile of an obviously
ancient vintage, drew up at the curb
with huge rafting and spluttering, ia
the course of which all of the air of the
neighborhood was poisoned with clouds
of acrid smoke from the aged motors
exhaust
INV are yuh. party?" called out the
driver of the rough-stuff old automobile.
Want q ride for yourself?"
The truth-teller replied that he didn't
have time; was just about to meet a
man at his office for an important con-
ference.
"Oh. all right-s'mother time said the
driver of the joke car. Wanted to give
you a ride in a regular car, that's all.
Amt she a pip?'
The truth-teller, not at all DESTROYS OF
hurting the feelings of his friend. again
had recourse to a collection of indis-
tinguishable sounds that proceeded num-
blingly from his epiglottis.
'Yep-a piperino. enthusiastically said
the driver of the comic supplement motor
car. viewing the machine with enormous
pride. "Djevver hear more noiseless
one in all your life?"
Once again the truth-teller stalled by
gurgling words that couldn't be picked out
and differentiated.
Huh? 1 didn't get you.' said the driver
of the katzenjammer car, beginning to
gaze curiously at the truth-teller. 'I
said, d'jevver hear one that made less
noise.
well, / couldn't rightfully say that"
replied the truth-teller, pinned at last. II
have heard many cars that made great
deal less noise than that one Of yours"
Deuce yhave.' exclaimed the driver
of the freak car. his jowls sort Of folding
together. I'D like Z know where!'
The truth-teller had no response to make
to this
Anyhow. you'll have to admit that
got a sparkling bargain in this baby"
went on the driver of the vociferous, d.
lapidated machine. paid only eight hum
dred beans for 1t. Some dickering and
some bargain. what, old top?"
st do not regard II as bargain" re-
piled the truth-teller.
.sOh, y'don't." snapped the driver Of the
old thing. glaring hard at the truth
teller. Huh! Got your hosiery on wrong
side out this morning, haven't you? Coin
round jumpin' on people tday jes for
luck, hey? Huh!' and he fiddled with the
gear of the machine and started II again
with a terrific clamor and disappeared
around the corner. wagging his head an.
grily. CLARENCE L. CULLEN.