The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1914-11-26

c9~sl -o&Tr IT anu various
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Mrs. slattery Had tho nhvsicoi
Ns'' combat, he
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 20
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 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 good woman to work for brings
out all there is best in the male be-
ing.
Mr.. Dorsey and Mr.. Cassidy waxod
impatient.
They had come for turkeys, not for
| dissertations; and this one was partic-
ularly annoying b ause 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, MIR.
Dorsey interrupted.
Two can live as chape az wan X
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 out on the platform in
a crate" he returned frigidly, The
names rubbed off, so don't know
who it belongs to-"
Its mine," said Mr.. Dorsey.
"Ye're a liar" said Mr.. Cassidy
"'Twas on'y yesterday me son Moike
writ me tellin' me he'd sint me wan"
howled Mr.. Cassidy. "oi hov tn let
| therl"
"oh, no. you hov, hov you!" yelled
Mr. Dorsey. Well, yez couldn't read
1t. anyhow. so phwat's tn difference?'
Mr.. Cassidy throbbed with anger.
"Oill rarn ye phwat tn difference
Isl" he howied. He took off his coat.
cast II 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 whit behind.
And then there entered Lieutenant
Dalrymple of the Salvation army. He
was a little man. with a pimply face
and chest like a washboard But he
valiantly pushed in where would have
feared to tread the most fatuous and
blin6est angel that ever flew.
Hold" he cried. extending spin
ding arms.
Mr.. Dorsey eyed him truculently.
"Gowanl' he yelled. Overwhelmingly
"Phwat's tn rlatther wild ye? d. ye
wan ter git kilt? Git out o. me wa.ayi"
and he rushed at Mr.. Cassidy.
Lieutenant Dalrymple the peace.
maker, with extended hands, stepped
between. One befngered fist caught
Mr.. Dorsey in the eye. while the other
enneshed itself in Mr.. Cassidy's Glen.
garrys.
It WIS we'll for Lieutenant Dalrym.
pie that he was 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 garret, while the rest o.
the army endeavored to eject from the
building the raging Mr., Dorsey and
the trumpeting Mr.. Cassidy.
II was an election long and hard
fought But 1t 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 blackenins
eye,
"Matchew." said Mr.. Cassidy al
length,
Mr., Dorsey removed his fingers from
his mouth.
'Phwat is ut2" 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 da.ark by thin-we'l
} COON back an lay fr thot SalvashuI
ARMY divvle, be hiyyins!"-Pennsyl
vania Grit