The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1914-08-27

all alert instantly. 1t was Mrs. Fay
Anderson who engineered the move
ment Miss Flora was an accomplice
Mr.. Tracey" says Miss Flora, in
the interval between the fourth and
] fifth times he made her cry "if you
knew the goings on at No. IA you'd let
poor girl like myself alone"
What is it," demands the reverend
shifting.
only gambling and drinking, and
smoking-ladies, too answers Miss
Flora. "They meets every Sunday
afternoon"
| What, after church," yells Mr..
Tracey,
Hush! Not so loud, Yes"
How can get in?" inquiries the
reverend
Password for the weeks cham
pagne,' answered Miss Flora.
It's a wicked word" signs the rev.
erend, However, I've got to be as
wise as a serpent as we'll as harmless
as dove Suppose | was to go in
and break them up?"
The best thing in Raw Gulch's his.
tory" answers Miss Flora.
You are really very discriminate
Ing young woman, and I'm sorry I've
been harsh with YOU" answers the
reverend. On the following Sunday
afternoon he goes up to the door of
NO. IA. Mrs, Fay Anderson herself
opens it.
Mr.. Tracey" she gasps in horri.
fled tones.
Champagne" answers Mr.. Tracey.
not knowing her I'm invited by a
friend" With which he pushes his
way past her, into room filled with
cigarette smoke The ladies Tin
blonde wigs was smoking as hard as
they could go, and Mr. Tracey had
never smelled such horrid tobacco
before. There was open champagne
bottles on the table, and glasses half
full Of it, and cards-face downward
and sort of stock ticker machine,
which was busy ticking out things.
Mr. Tracey stood still in the middle
of the room and surveyed the crowd.
The men and women looked kind Of
embarrassed.
Miserable creatures he began.
so this is how you spend the Sab
bath day Within a block Of the
church, where l have seen many of
you in attendance, pretending to say
your deyotions! am going to clean
up this haunt of infamy. I am"
why, what's the matter, Mr., Ira
cey?" demands Mrs. Fay Anderson,
apparently surprised.
THE matter? Smoking! Women,
calling themselves ladies', smoking vile
tobacco"
20, pardon me, Mr.. Tracey; these
are eubebs," answers Mrs. Fay. For
asthma, you know. Try one! The
dry air is very facilitating for the
passages of the throat"
She pushed the box toward him,
and, sure enough, they were cubebs.
That staggered the reverend, but only
for a moment.
Champagne" he reared
Water, Mr. Tracey" answered Mrs.
Fay sweetly. 1T comes in champagne
bottles, you know, because they are
thicker than others, and the light
doesn't spoil It,"
She poured out tumbler full, and,
sure enough, 1t was water, and good
water at that.
Cards." roars Mr.. Tracey, and
turns the pack over. And on the faces
Of them was marked Abraham, Mel
chisedek, Noah, Paul, Barnabas, Sap
phira, etc
The Bible made a pastime," says
Mrs Fay. We're thinking of intro
ducing this system into our school,
Mr.. Tracey. Try once more"
THE stock-ticker," mutters the rev.
erend feebly.
THAT" inquiries Mrs. Fay, looking
toward the instrument. Why, that's
how we study Browning. Look!
Here's a quotation from 'Paracelsus'
and the one that guesses how 1t ends
wins a cubeb. Next?"
But the Rev Mr. Tracey was al
ready on his way homeward. think
he understood what had happened
about couple of hours later, because
Raw Gulch has first-rate sky-pilot
now-and he's going to be married to
Mrs. Fay next spring.
Copyright, 1914. by W. @. Chapman)