The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1912-06-19


Ize a clearinghouse of off-coIor stories.
The doctor listened in spite of him
self, and in spite of himself he was
amused for stories that would be
stupid If they were decent, take on a
certain verve and thrill from their
very forbiddenhess.
The dear old clergyman felt that it
would be priggish to take fight, but
he could not make the corners of his
mouth behave. Strange twitchings Of
the lips and little steamy escapes Of
giggle-iets disturbed him. And when
Ashton. who was a practiced racon-
teur, finished a drolatic adventure
with the epilogue, And the next
morning they were at Niagara Falls, "
the old doctor was helpless with laugh.
ter. Some superior force, the devil
no doubt, fairly shook him with glee.
ooh, that's bully" he shrieked, 81
haven't heard a story like that for
ages"
"Why, where have you been, DR..
Temple?" asked Ashton, who could
not imagine where a man could have
concealed himself from such stories
But he laughed loudest of all when
the doctor answered.: you see, live
in Ypsilanti. They don't tell me
stories like that"
"They-who?" said Fosdick.
&c. 70
doctor explained, and laughed so hard
that he forgot to feel guilty, laughed
so hard that his wife in the next room
heard him and giggled to Mrs. Whit
comb
Listen to dear Walter. He hasn't
laughed like that since he was "a
medical student" Then she buried
her face guiltily in book.
Wasn't it good?" DR.. Temple de-
manded, wiping his streaming eyes
and nudging the solemn-faced English
man, who understood his own nations
humor, but had not yet learned the
| Yankee quirks.
Wedgewood made a hollow effort at
! laughter and answered: Extremely
very droll, but what | don't quite
get was-why the porter said" The
others drowned him in a roar of laugh
| ter, but Ashton was angry. why, you
| blamed fool that's where the joke
| came in. Don't you see, the bride
| groom said to the bride" then he
lowered his voice and diagramed the
story on his fingers.
| Mrs. Temple was still shaking with
! sympathetic laughter, never dreaming
what her husband was laughing at
She turned to Mrs. Whitcomb, but
Mrs. Whitcomb was still glaring al
Mrs. Wellington, who was still writ
ing with flying fingers and anderson
ing every other word.
Some people seem TO think they
own the train" Mrs. Whitcomb ragged
THAT creature has been at the writ
ing desk an hour. The worst of it is
I'm sure she's writing TO my hus
band"
Mrs Temple looked shocked, but an
other peal Of laughter came through
the partition between the male and fe
male sections OF the car and she
| 5eamed again Then Mrs Wellington
finished her letter, glanced it over, ad
dressed an envelope, sealed an'
| stamped Il with "a elaboration tina
msddened Mrs. Whitcomb. When a
last she rose, Mrs Whitcomb was il
the seat almost before Mrs. yelling
ton was out of it.
Mrs. Wellington paused at anothe
wave Of laughter from the mem
room. She commented petulantly:
What good times men have
They've formed a club in there al
ready. We women can only sit aroun'
and hate each other"
why, / don't hate anybody, d.
your" Mrs. Temple exclaimed, lool
ing up from the novel she had foun'
on the book shelves. Mrs. yelling
ton dropped into the next chair;
ION long railroad journey | hat
everybody. Don't you hate long joul
ncys?"
tits the first ! ever took" Mrs
Temple apologized. radiantly, 'and III
having the-what my Oldest boy woul
call the time of my life. And dea
Z Walter-such goings on for him!
few minutes ago ! strolled by the doc