New Britain herald., 1919-09-08

Il can't" drawled Mark Besides, l don't know thing 'bout handling tools. Shake m off y's'ef cant y? If y don't, ten t one you'll have hy- drophobia.
 Reader, if you're still reading, I ask you, Have you ever been standing in a hall, or for that matter, chicken coop, barn, cemetery, or, any other place. with a large. deep mouthed dog big enough for whole Uncle Toms Cabin troupe to winter in? Have you, I say. ever gazed into de- lightfully pink lidded eyes in which there was water, birthstone, and a whole hell of devils swimming, and shouting, and frolicking, and butcher ing one another? Have you ever watched dog like this eat some one else up? Whose growls did not seem to satisfy him? A dog that ever shifted it's 'holt' and was forever mussing things up just as a woman does when she's paving things over on bargain counter, and don't want to buy? Only, this dog didn't want !! to buy. no, he wanted me to GIVE, give him my CALVES, Talk about secret societies and GRIPS" That dog had all kinds of grips skinned a mile-not counting my calves.
 Enough" I finally yelled. I had, while swinging around, managed to grab a big walking stick with a big bone handle. I remember, the handle was yellow-just hatcher the dogs teeth.
 How much d it cost?" I panted, bending down and a an opportune moment and inserting the handle be- tween the sofe bleeding calves be- longing to me, and the harsh, yellow teeth belonging to the dog.
 Dog r stick?" drawled Mark
 "Dog," Ifgurgled.
 Dunno what tn dog is worth. He don't belong t me-must strayed i'll here--servant's gone away-Im keeping house-must slipped in when tn milkman left tn milk Tn walking sticks mine-bought it last summer at Atlantic City-fifty cents T guess-'Lantic City's beastly hot summers-cheap service--no s'ciety- An, ats a boy y got m loose aint y? Let's go'n chain m up-what say?- no-ah'e sec"
 I had detached the beast and was industrously beating it's brains out on the floor
 "What'n thunder V doing?" yelled Mark now showing a little interest
 What am I doing? Cant you see what I've DONE?" I cried in rage giving the dog a final kick in the ribs.
 "I warn you. That dogs not mine. He strayed in here when the milkman came in the kitchen a little while ago I told v once"
 I paid no attention to Marks words but dragged the liver colored brute down through the long hall, and as I did, was reminded of a cer- tain boy Mark wrote about who killed a pig and dragged it around that his drunken father would think the boyd been murdered.
 Reaching the door I hurled the carcass down the steps, It struck with a sickening thud on the hot, oozing, tar sidewalk. Ever hear a defunct dog strike a boiling tar side walk in August?
 Returning, Mark said Now young man if you've time I'D like to ask WHO you are WHAT you are, and WHAT you want?'
 I made my errand known. telling him I had come to him a brother writer for the purpose of asking where he obtained the material for his. delightful, human, as well as numerous stories. How and where he wrote them? What brand he used that made his pen and brain so po- tent that it's drippings brought ten cents word?
 "Ah my son." he began affection ately throwing his arm around my shoulder, while my poor bleeding body trembled in ecstasy, and dry sobs struggled for freedom in my neck and throat, you have just fur nished me with enough material if you will excuse me for saying so, to fill a book. Yes" he continued musingly, T shall write one and the title shall be TWO FOOLS AND A DOG''
 Thank you" I replied, twill you send me a cODy?'
 II will. Here have a smoke" Then he gently but firmly led me to the door, smiled AND PUT THE KNOB IN MY HAND. I opened the door, descended the steps and was about to pass around the carcass of the dog, when he called out Don't forget t morning."
 The door closed on the illustrious man, I stopped and raised the bloody beast to my breast, n1urmuring Good dog, yo' liver colored cuss, you've been my mascot, for had it not been for you I'd been tongue tied"
 THE END.