Bonners Ferry herald. [volume] (Bonners Ferry, Idaho) 1904-current, 1914-10-02


his white tennis shoes resting against
rian dachel snoozing comfortably
across his knees, was man Of fifty.
He was broad of shoulder, deep of
chest, and clean-shaven. He had laid
aside his Panama hat and his hair
was clipped closely, and was pleas
antly and honorably sprinkled with
gray. His face was broad and tanned;
the nose was tilted, and the wide
mouth was both kindly and humorous.
One knew, from the tint Of his blue
eyes and the quirk of his lips, that
when he spoke there would be a bit
OF brogue. He was James Harrigan,
one time celebrated in the ring for his
gameness, his squareness, his endur-
ance; Battling Jimmie" Harrigan,
who, when he encountered his first
knockout, retired from the ring. He
had to his credit sixty-one battles, of
which he had easily won forty. He
had been outpointed in some and had
broken even in others; but only once
had he been "railroaded into dream
land" to use the parlance of the game.
That was enough He understood.
Youth would be served, and he was
no longer young. He had, unlike the
many in his peculiar service, lived
clearly and with wisdom and fore
sight: he had saved both his money
and his health. Today he was at
peace with the world, with three
sound appetites the day and the
wherewithal to crafty them.
Today Battling Jimmie" was for
gotten by the public, and he was
happy in the seclusion of this forget
fulness. A new and strange career
had opened up before him; he was the
father of the most beautiful prima
donna in the operate world, and, diff
cult as the task was, he did his best
to live up to it. 1t was hard not to
offer to shake hands when he was
presented to a princess or a duchess;
it was hard to remember when to
change the studs in his shirt; and a
e white cravat was the terror of his
nights, for his fingers, broad and
= stubby and powerful, had not been
trained to the delicate task of tying
Il UOWhuOl. by JuultlOuo DlOW Al
that spot where the ribs divaricate he
could right we'll tie his adversary into
a bowknot but this string of white
lawn was most damnable thing
Still, the puttering of the two women
: their daily concern over his deport
j. ment, was bringing him into conform
ity with social usages. One thing hi
I rebelled against openly, and with sucl
q firmness that the women did not pres
r him too strongly for fear of a genera
J. revolt. On no occasion, however i'm
s pressive, would he wear silk hat
L Christmas and birthdays invariabl
y called forth the gift of a silk hat, 70
y the women trusted that they coul
q overcome resistance by persistence
IL He never said anything, but it was NJ
+ ticed that the hotel porter or the ga
u dener, or whatever masculine hea
IT (save his own was available, cam
forth respondent on feast days an
a Sundays.
h Leaning back in an iron chair, wit
ii his shoulders resting against the oal
e. was the Barone, altogether a diffe
l ent type. He was frowning over tn
a pages of Bagot's Italian Lakes, an
IN he wasn't making much Roadway. +
lt was Italian to the core. for all tn;
he aped the English style and ma
d, ner. He could speak the tongue wit
he fiuency, but he stumbled and faltere
miserably over the soundless typ
/" His clothes had the Piccadilly Gu
and his mustache, erstwhile wake
D." and militant, was cropped at the &C
st ners, thoroughly insular He WI
of thirty, and undeniably handsome.
Id Near the fountain, on the gree
Oh was a third man. He was in the a
of folding up an easel and cam
a stool.
he From a window in the villa came
sr. voice. only a Tilt of melody,
l." words,-half dozen bars fro
Martha; but every delightful no
or. went deep into the three masculi
he hearts Harrigan smiled and patti
the dog. The Italian scowled at {
lr- vegetable garden directly below. T
lat artist scowled at the Italian.
re- Fritz, Fritz: here, FRITZ"
The dog struggled in Harrigal
?" hands and tore himself loose
went Gathering over the path iowa
a the villa and disappeared into the do
way Nothing could keep him VIII
that voice called He was as arde
On. a lover as any, and far more favor
lot "Oh, you funny little dogl Y
merry little dachel Fritz. mustn
err let gol" Silence.
de The artist knew that she was Ct
ding the puppy to her heart and
lad own grew twisted. He stopped OF
his materials again and tied the /
aid to the easel and the stool, and shift
ng them under his arm.
be- "Ill be up after dinner, Mr.. Hal
i'm gan" he said.
to IAN right, Abbott" Harrigan way
his hand pleasantly. He was becC
his ing so used to the unvarying sta
ment that Abbott would be up af
lrt- dinner, that his reply was by n
uCbasc eating