The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1914-11-19

o t h er ~
schools Of
nhvsio.I Mrs. SIattery Had the
combat bo Turkey.
has few equals and no superiors.
And ere Mr.. Dorsey, too weak even
to wag a threatening finger. and Mr..
Cassidy, too tired to call Mr.. Dorsey
the names that were congesting in his
being, retired TO their respective
abodes to think up things to say to
one another on the morrow, old Mrs.
Honoria Slattery, who lived farther up
on the rocks, already was removing
the last pin feather from the turkey
with a piece of faring wrapping pa.
per
One year later, TO a day. Mr.. Dor
sey glowering at Mr. Cassidy, and Mr..
Cassidy, glowering at Mr.. Dorsey, be-
took themselves down to the express
office, each to get the Grated turkey
that his son had sent him for his
Thanksgiving dinner.
Side by side. in armed neutrality,
they waited for the agent to finish
discoursing to the pretty operator
upon the benefits OF love to the work
ing man and how the stimulus of hav-
ing a good woman to work for brings
out all there is best in the male be-
ing.
Mr. Dorsey and Mr.. Cassidy waXed
impatient.
They had come for turkeys, not for
dissertations; and this one was partic-
ularly annoying because they had both
been married.
At length, when the agent had
wrought himself into verbal frenzy
in an attempt to clinch the point that
two can live as cheaply as one, Mr.
Dorsey interrupted.
Two can live as chape as wan II
they'll live on half as much he burst
forth, AN now gi'me me turkey
The agent turned in cold hauteur.
"They's one ont on the platform in
a crate" he returned. frigidly, THE
names rubbed off, SO I don't know
who it belongs to-
It's mine" said Mr. Dorsey.
"Ye're liar" said Mr.. Cassidy.
Twas on'y Yesterday me son Moike
writ me tellin' me he'd stint me wan,
howled Mr. Cassidy. 'Oi hov tn let
ther!'
"Oh. no, YOU hoy. HOY YOU" yelled
Mr.. Dorsey, Well yeZ couldn't read
it, anyhow, so phwat's tn difference"
Mr.. Cassidy throbbed with anger
"Oi'll larn ye phwat tn difference
Isl" he howled. He took off his coat.
cast it to the floor and. STOPPING.
rubbed the palms of his hands In the
dirt. Dorsey, the joy of battle in his
little eyes, was not a whit behind
And then there entered Lieutenant
was little man, with a pimply face
and chest like a dashboard. But he
valiantly pushed in where would have
feared to tread the most fatuous and
blindest angel that ever few.
Hold" he cried, extending spin
ding arms.
Mr.. Dorsey eyed him truculently.
"Gowan, he yelled, threateningly.
-Phwats tn matther wild ye? D. We
wan ter git kilt? Git out o me Way"
and he rushed at Mr.. Cassidy.
Lieutenant Dalrymple, the peace
maker, with extended hands, stepped
between. One befingered fist caught
Mr., Dorsey IN the eye, while the other
enrI eshed Itself in Mr. Cassidy's Glen.
garrys.
1t was Well for Lieutenant Dalrym
pie that he was a good runner The
half mile to headquarters he covered
in two minutes fiat. and he spent the
rest of the morning in Saratoga
trunk in the garnet. while the rest of
the army endeayored to eject from the
building the raging Mr.. Dorsey and
the trumpeting Mr.. Cassidy
1t was an election long and hard.
fought. But it was an election
Sitting side by side in the street, Mr..
Dorsey timorously wiggled back and
forth loose tooth, while Mr.. Cassidy
tenderly caressed a fast blackening
eye.
Matthew" said Mr.. Cassidy at
length.
Mr.. Dorsey removed his fingers from
his mouth.
"Phwat is ut?' he queried
Lave us go home an ate our tur-
rkey," said Mr.. Cassidy
Mr. Dorsey nodded profoundly.
"Yis," he said. An whin we've fin
ished-'twill be dark by thin-we1l
COON back an lay FIR thot Salyashun
.rrmy divvle, be hiv ,ins, ~ Pennsyl
vania Grit
Much to Be Thankful For.