The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1913-01-18

one who laughs through tears. seein,
the piteous; so closely iptermtngled
with the amusing. Her eyes were
brown. clever, with delicate brow,
and high, smooth forehead. The Wa
termelon decided that she was moi
pretty, but distinctly classy. He
smiled at the friendliness he saw in
the eyes and turned to the old gentle
man, who was now thoroughly alb
sorbed.
Il need a monkey-wrench," said he
| II thought at first that there was
something the matter with the car
buretor, but think now that it must
be in the crank shaft assembly.
ooh, yes,'' agreed the Watermelon
vaguely, and got the wrench from the
tool-box as directed.
IL think that maybe you had bet
let us tow yor to some garage" said
the lady timorously, her voice barely
audible above the old gentleman'a
noisy administrations.
Search me-" returned the Water
welon, standing by to lend assistance
with every tool from the box in his
arms or near by where he could reach
it instantly at an impeMous com.
mand
Automobiles" said the lady, "are
like the modern schoolmarms, always
breaking down."
Like hoboes," suggested the Water
melon, always broke"
The old gentleman Strengthened up.
There is something the matter with
the gasoline inlet valve" he IN.
nounced firmly.
1.-THE whole car must be rotten"
surmised the Watermelon, catching
the oil-can as it was about to slip
from his already overburdened hands.
mo, no." returned the old gentle
man reassuringly. as he buttoned his
long linen ulster securely. 1.-THE crank
shaft seems to be all right. but the"
He knelt down, still talking, and
the Watermelon had a horrible fear
for moment that his would-be bene.
factor was about to offer up prayers
for the safety of the car. He reached
out his hand to stay proceedings.
when the old gentleman spoke:
II mus. get under the car"
Maybe It's all right" suggested the
Watermelon, who did not like the idea
of being forced to go after him with
the Dis.
Father" the lady's voice was gen
tie, hut firm. and the old gentleman
paused. Let Alphonse 60. You know
we are to dine with the Bartletts. Al
phonse. please find out what the
trouble is."
Alphonse alighted promptly. He was
a thin, dapper little man, with
blase superiority that was impressive
as betokening a professional knowl.
edge Of the idiosyncrasies Of motor
cars. He approached the car and on.
nounced the trouble practically At
once.
"There is no gasolene.'
The old gentleman was not in the
least perturbed over his own slight
error in judgment. "A frequent, very
frequent oversight" said he, rising.
eve will tow you to the hotel. my
dear sir. You can get the gasolene
there"
Never mind" said the Watermelon.
IL can hoof it"
"Hoof it," The old gentleman wa.
panied and hurt. "Hoof it. when
have my car right here! No, indeed.
Alphonse, get the rope"
The Watermelon protested. Jaw.
really, you know"
Weren't you going to the hotel?"
II was thinking some Of 1t. But
the car"
"Alphonse, get the rope. 1t will be
a pleasure. We have always got to
lend assistance to a broken car. We
may be in the same fix ourselves some
day."
Alphonse brought the rope and tha
Watermelon watched them adjust It.
When the last knot was tied to the
old gentleman's liking, he turned to
the Watermelon and presented him
with his card. The Watermelon took
it and read the name. BRIG. Gen.
Charles Montrose Crossman, u. 8. A..
Retired" Then, not to be outdone,
he reached In the still unexplored
pockets of his new clothes with conf.
dent ease, and finding pocketbooh
drew 1t forth. opened 1t on the mere
chance that there would be q card
within, found one and presented II
to the general with lofty unconcern
trusting that the general and thu
owner of the clothes were not 40
quainted.
civilian Hargrave Bachelor" read
the general aloud. while his round
fat face beamed with pleasure. II
have heard about you, sir, and am
glad to make your acquaintance"
The Watermelon grasped the e1
tended hand and wrung 1t with fervor.
"The pleasure is all mine." said he
with airy grace and sublime self-assur
ance.
LET me present you to my daugh.
ter. Henrietta, this Is young Mr.. Bat,
chelor of New York. You have read
about him, my dear. In the papers. He
broke the cotton ring on Wall Street
last week. You may remember. Miss