The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1912-09-24

porter: THAI, you idiot, are you con-
WINGED now?'
The porter gazed at the billet with
ill-concealed triumph. "Yassah- Is
convinced" Mr.. Wedgewood settled
back and closed his eyes. rs con-
WINGED that you is in the wrong
BERTH"
impossible. l won't believe you!"
the Englishman ragged, getting to mis-
feet in a fury.
Perhaps you'll believe Mista Tick
et," the porter chortled. He says
numba ten, and that's ten across the
way and down the road piece"
This is outrageous! l decline to
move"
You may decline. but you move
just the same" the porter said, reach
ing out for his various bags and car
ryalls. The train moves and you
move with it."
Wedgewood stood fast: You had
no right to put me in here in the
first place"
The porter disdained to refute this
SANDER. He stumbled down the aisle
with the bundles. Its too bad, it's
sutt'nIy too bad, but you sholy must
come along"
Wedgewood followed, gesticulating
violently.
"Here-wait-how dare you! And
that berth is made up. / don't want
to go to bed now!"
'Mista Ticket says, Go to baidl'-
"Of all the disgusting countries!
Heah, don't put that thah-heah."
The porter flung his load anywhere,
and absolved himself with a curt, as
got otha passengers to wait on now
Il shall certainly report you to the
company" the Englishman fumed.
"Yassah, | p'sume So"
Have l got to go to bed now? Real
ly, /" but the porter was gone, ana
the irate foreigner crawled under his
curtains, muttering, Il shall write q
letter to the London Times about
this"
To add to his misery, Mrs. Whit
comb came from the Women's Room,
and as she passed him, she prodded
him with one sharp elbow and twisted
the corner of her heel into his little
toe. He thrust his head out with his
fiercest, How dare you!" But Mrs.
Whitcomb was fresh from a pro-
longed encounter with Mrs. Yelling
ton, and she flung back a venomous
glare that sent the Englishman to
| cover.
The porter reveled in his victory till
he had to dash out to the vestibule
| to give vent to hilarious yelps of
| laughter. When ne had regained COM
| posture, he came back to Mallory, ana
/ bent over him to say:
"Yo' berth is empty, sab. Shall l
make 1t up?"
jorie, with a sad, Good night, darl-
! ing"
The porter rolled his eyes again,
| and turned away, only to be recalled
by Marjorie's voice: Porter, take
this old handbag out of here"
The porter thought of the van
| pushed Lathrop, exiled to the smok-
ing room, and he answered: That be-
longs to the gemman what owns this
| BERTH
Put it in number one," Marjorie
commanded, with a queenly gesture.
The porter obeyed meekly, wonder.
ing what would happen next. He had
no sooner deposited Lathrop's valise
among the incongruous white ribbons,
| than Marjorie recalled him to say:
And, porter, you may bring me my
own baggage"
"Yo what-missus?"
Our handbags, idiot" Mallory ex.
planned, peevishly.
| Il amt seen no handbags OF you.
alls," the porter protested. "You-au
didn't have no handbags when you got
on this cah.'
| Mallory jumped as If he had been
shot. Good Lord, 1 remember! We
left 'em in the taxicab!"
| The porter cast his hands up, and
walked away from the tragedy. Mar
jorie stared at Mallory in horror.
I'VE had so little time to catch the
train," Mallory stammered. Marjorie
leaped to her feet: I'm going up in
the baggage car"
For the dog?"
For my trunk"
And now Mallory annihilated her
completely, for he gasped: Our
trunks are on the train ahead"
Marjorie fell back for one moment
| then bounded to her feet with shr1l
commands: Porter. Porter! l wan,
you to stop this train this minute!"
The porter called back from TIE
depths Of a berth: This train don't
stop till tomorrow noon"
Marjorie had strength enough fol
only one vain protest: DO you mean
to say that I've got to go to San Fran
cisco in this waist-a waist that has
seen a whole day in Chicago?"
The best consolation Mallory could
offer was companionship in misery
He pushed forward one not too i'm
maculate cuff We'll, this is the only
linen l have"
Don't speak to me-" snapped Mar
jorie, beating her heels against the
floor
But, my darling!"
GO away and leave me. l hate
you!"
Mallory rose up, and stumbling
down the aisle, plounced into berth
number three, an allegory Of despair
About this time, Little Jimmie Well