The L'Anse sentinel., 1911-03-25
Bunch inquired about Uncle Peters

never DetteT, answered. Aunt
Martha. During the last few months
he has gone about more than he used
to. Almost every day he Is at the
race track In the interest Of tho So
ciety he Is a member Of"
What society is that?" Bunch in
Quired.
THE 8. p. @. A." replied the old
lady. Peter tells me that there is
much cruelty to animals practised at
the race track 80 he has determined
TO do all he can to stop It,"
/ winked at Bunch and immediate
ly he began to cough till thought the
boy would choke. would have given
eight dollars for good excuse to
laugh out loud. Ikey took 1t all In
without batting an eye.
II think Uncle Peter Is awfully good
and noble to devote his time to such
worthy cause, don't you. Mr..
Bunch?" inquired Clara J. Bunch
mumbled something incoherent and
took another choke.
I'm SO glad that John has really
made up his mind never to bet an
other penny on horses" Clara j. went
on. II think when a man has lost
whole lot Of money in that manner
and then wins 1t back by accident he
should be satisfied and not tempt
Fortune again, don't you, Mr., Bunch?"
Il certainly do" replied Bunch Wig
orously.
"Oh, I'm all through" added. II
wouldn't bet another dollar on skate,
not II they promised to hurry It
around the track In an automobile
not for mine!"
Clara ]. patted me lovingly on the
back and Aunt Martha beamed over
her glasses.
Bunch was fixing his throat for an,
other choke when suddenly my youth.
full brother-in-law, Tacks, came to the
surface with letter in his hand.
Tacks had spotted the missive ly-
ing on the floor near keys chair, so
young Mr.. Buttinski had to get busy
and pick 1t up.
Here's letter l found on the
foor,' he chirped, and then to show
the profound depths of his learning
the little imp read the address in
slow, deliberate tones. "Mr. l.
Schwartz, Bookmaker, Brighton Beach
Race Track. New York"
Clara ]. went into the Ice business
right away quick.
Ikey never whimpered.
Then Bunch took the letter from
the open-eyed Tacks and leaped to
the rescue while | came out of the
trance slowly.
his ear trumpet" Bunch said quickly,
and Ikey was wise to the tip in min
ute. "A
Clara ]. shifted suspiciously and
knew she had the gloves on.
"Mr. Schwartz's affliction is terri
ble,", she said with chill in every
word How did you converse with
him before our arrival?"
"Oh! he understands the lip Ian.
guage and can talk back on his fin
gers" | FASTENED to explain, looking
hard at Ikey, whose mask-like face
gave no token that he understood
what was going on.
Il thought | understood you to say
Mr.. Schwartz is real estate dealer!"
Peaches continued, while the ther-
mometer went lower and lower.
$50 he is" replied, mentally ar
ranging pleasant surprises for Tacks
In the near future.
"Then why does his correspondent
address him as a BookmakerT my
wife said slowly, and could hear the
icebergs grinding each other all
around me.
Il think I can explain that" Bunch
put in quietly. Then, with the utmost
deliberation he looked Ikey In the eye
and said, "Mr. Schwartz, it's really
none of my business, but would you
mind telling me why you, real es-
tate dealer, should have letter in
your possession which is addressed
to you ASA Bookmaker? Answer me
on your fingers"
Ikey delivered the goods
IN a minute he had both paws
working overtime and such knuckle
twisting no mortal man ever INDUCED
In before.
HE says" Bunch began to inter
pret, that the letter is not his. II is
intended for Isadore Schwartz, q
wicked cousin of his who follows the
races. Mr.. Schwartz is now complain
ing bitterly with his fingers because
his letters and those intended for
his renegade nephew become mixed
almost every day. These mistakes
are made because the initials are
Identical He also says that--he--
hopes = the-presence-of this
particular--letter in--his-posses
sion-.-does--not - offend - the--la-
dies-because while-it is-ad-
dressed-to-a race-track--gam
bler--the contents--are quite
harmless = being but -a-small-
ll-from-the--denti '
Ikey's fingers kept on working
nervously as though he felt It his duty
to wear them out, and the perspira-
tion rolled of poor Bunch's forehead.
Tell him to cease firing" said to
Bunch; hell sprain his fingers and
lose his voice."
Ikey doubled up all his eight fingers