Bisbee daily review., 1918-06-16
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 ASMaRt0Ndhn| FG3 By GIllen A. Cain.~~-.

lioNt AnAooNh AAr tAAAANAf lOA a ANdAntt0 farm.
 Bulldog Was the Belle Of the Ball. The dance was held in the dining room of the hotel and every ranch and valley and mountain peak for forty miles around had sent it's quota And it was no common ordinary, week day dance, either, but masquerade, if you please. Some mighty pretty young ! women graced this ball and many of the couples danced exceedingly well But a white bull dog, husky and bandy legged and pink eyed, was the belle of the ball. This dog was modest. He did not butt in and carry off the hon ors of his own initiative. Far from it. The village cut up dragged him into the festivities.
 The village cut up came to the ball decked out in striped clothes as Con vict No. 999" His die kick was at tired as a railroad conductor. cap brass buttons and all. Well. these two funny fellows cut all sorts of di- does for the delectation of the dancers. For instance. the convict, between the dances, would take a fast rLnning start and slide about twenty feet along the sanded floor like small boys do on the ice He was some little slider Iy Cobb's famous hook slide was cold molasses compared to the speed of Convict No. 999.
 All went merry as a marriage bell with these two Keystone comedians until the convict began to enlarge the scope of his comedy. In the midst of one of his lightning slides he spied this white bull dog on the sidelines and reached out with gay noncha lance and grasped the dogs sJarbOard ear and carried him right along down the course. Pleased with the success of his exploit and intoxicated by the handclapping and cheers of his audi ence, the convict pranced gayly back to his starting place for another slide. Here he came like a Canadian ski down a cathedral roof. But the dog did not wait for him. This dog was sore. He was not playing on this stage. He was out for revenge for that dis jointed ear. And they mixed it in the middle of the dance floor. Fer mo- ment all 6ne could see was a whiling blurr of white dog and convict stripes. And then out of it came the convict, minus one leg of his trousers, and skinned up one of the pillars in the middle of the floor like a cat. The conductor rushed in to his partners assistance and the dog took him on with glee. The dogs owner rescued the conductor after ne had lost part of his uniform and all of his brass but tons.
 And the dance went serenely on. minue a convict and a conductor among the gay masqueraders. The gay will laugh when we are gene and each one as before will chase his fav- orite phantom" thought fully quoted the newspaper man as he walked over to his room to seek rest and sleep for the long drive home.
 The dance broke up at dawn and amid the Xii vi of the galloping cow punchers and the tOOt of the Stude- baker and Ford horns and the splitting exhaust of the gas pipes these ranch CTS and their danes and daughters streamed away across the desert for home
 More Tire Trouble.
 The next morning when the news paper man came down stairs he found mine host of the inn on the front porch looking with thoughtful restrospection at flat tire on the flivver More valve trouble. The garage mans services were enlisted and new valves were placed in all the inner tubes, all pune. lures patched and the flivver's nose pointed for Bisbee. After about fifteen miles of smooth sailing on the return journey the auto editor suddenly be- came possessed of a brilliant idea. "I will pump up all the flat tires on the right hand side Of the car" he said. and you pump up those that fail on the left This proposal the newspa- per man accepted in good faith.
 Eight miles out of Douglas tire went down. It was right side tire. and the auto editor swung on the pump like sailor on a sinking ship of the old days at sea. The flivver bounded forward into Douglas and the party stopped for the monday meal. The suns rays scorched like furnace. It was the hottest day of the young sum mer. Two miles out of Douglas a tire died. It was a right side tire. The auto editor said things that cannot be repeated here and took his trusty pump and climbed over the mudguard and went to work
 Three miles further on another righ. side tire gave up the ghost and again the auto editor and his pump giittered and swayed like a bird on bough in the burning rays of the summer sun.
 This tire lasted four miles and then the valve went wrong The b.g auto editor and the little yaIve met in a death grapple in the dust Jf that blaz- ing roadway and for five terrible rounds it was draw. Tho auto editor won in the sixth. But the newspaper man will always maintain tna. it Was his frightful language and not his strength and skill that finally cowed the little valve into submission.
 And Still They Rave.
 And this is about all, except that when the newspaper man tries to tell his friends m the Warren district that he still likes the Huachucas best, they hOOt at him and aouse him ana tell hilI he diG Lot go far enough up Cave ~.