The Caucasian. (Shreveport, La.) 1900-192?, 1911-01-29

my researches and observations. AS
to their habits, their times and man
ner of laying, their many varieties and
crossbreedings, their span of life,
their
"Oh, don't make an Ibsen drama Of
itr' interrupted the young man flip
PANTY. "Riddles-especially old Hill
debrant's riddles-don't have to be
worked out seriously. They are light
themes such as Sim Ford and Harry
Thurston Peck like to handle. But,
somehow, | can't strike just the an.
swer. Bill Watson may, and he may
not. Tomorrow will tell. Well, your
majesty, I'm glad anyhow that you
butted in and whiled the time away.
/ guess Mr.. Al-Raschid himself would
have bounced back If one of his con-
stituents had conducted him up
against this riddle. I'll say good night.
Peace TO- yours and what-you-may
call-its of Allah"
The margrave, with gloomy air
held out his hand.
"T cannot express my regret" hf
said sadly. Never before have
found myself unable to assist In some
way. What kind of hen lays the
longestf 1t is a battling problem
There is hen, believe, called the
Plymouth Rock that"
'Cut 1t out" said the young man.
1.-THE caliph trade is a mighty serious
one. don't suppose you'd even see
anything funny in preachers de-
tense of John D. Rockefeller. Well
good night, your nibs."
From habit the margrave began to
tumble in his pockets. He drew forth
a card and handed 1t to the young
man.
EDO me the favor te accept this, any
how" he said. "The time may come
when it might be of use to you"
"Thanksr' said the young man, peck
citing it earelessly. "My name is Sim
mons"
y
shame to him who would hint that
the readers interest shall altogether
pursue the Margrave August Michael
Won Paulsen Quigg. / am indeed
astray If my hand fail in keeping the
way where my peruser's heart would
follow. Then let us on the morrow
peep quickly in at the door of Hide
brant, harnessmaker.
Hildebrant's 200 pounds reposed on
a bench, silver buckling raw leather
martingale.
Bill Watson came IN first.
"yel1." said Hildebrant, shaking all
over with the vile conceit of the joke
maker, "haf you guessed him-'Vat
kind of hen lays der longestp p"
eEr-why. I think So" said Bill, rub
bling servife chin. II think so, Mr.
Hildebrant-the one that lives the
longest Is that right?"
"Neinp' said Hildebrant, shaking his
head violently. you hat not guessed
der answer"
Bill passed on and donned a bedtlcf
apron and bachelorhood.
In came the young man of the cara
bian Nights" fiasco-pale, melancholy
hopeless.
"yen," said Hildebrant, ''haf yot
guessed him Vat kind of hen lays
der longestY"
simmons regarded him with dull
sayagery in his eye. Should he curse
this mountain of pernicious humor-
| curse him and die? Why should
But there was Laura.
/ Dogged, speechless, he thrust hi
hands into bis coat pockets and stood
His hand encountered the strang
touch of the margraye's card. HI
drew it ont and looked at 1t as mel
about to be hanged look at a crawlini
/ fly. There was written on it in Quigg'
bold, round hand, GOOD for one roas
chicken to bearer"
/ Simmons looked up with fashini
| eye.
"a dead oner' said be.
| "Gootp' reared Hildebrant, rockin
the table with giant glee. DOT
right You gone at mine house at
o'clock to der party"