The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1920-10-22
with Hamilton at the Turn
A SHORT STORY By sEWELL FORD
home and beating up my family"
By SEWELL FORD

home and beating up my family"
why, Torchy!" says Wee.
Anyway, gotta treat somebody
rough says I. But the best l could
do was to work it out on Buddy. the
Alredale, who liked nothing better.
Somebody ought to take that Mil
ton Wilde and feed him raw meat
for a month";" suggests, land then
maybe he'd snap back at her some of
these times"
Why" says Wee, "Pm sure think
Mr.. Wilde is a perfectly nice man.
He's so kind and thoughtful"
And well trained, eh?" 1 suggests.
why, yes" says Wee.
I'D like to try snappin' my finger
quick at him." says 1. "Tll bet he'd
lie down and roll over"
At which Wee giggles. 81 wonder
If Mrs. Wilde couldn't be induced to
give lessons in the art of managing
husband?" says she. "She could get
up quite a large class right here in
Harbor Hills"
HUH" says l. She'd give lessons
in anything to anybody, that woman"
I'd almost worked up quite a lot of
sympathy for Milton. l tried to figure
out what it must be like, being dictated
to at every step, told where you must
go and when you must come back, as
well as what you could eat and prob
ably what you ought to think. Why.
even her pet Pekinese had more indie
pendence than that. He would get out
and roll in the mud occasionally. But
Milton hardly dared smoke cigarette
while wife was around I've seen him
sneakin' puff or two on the sly in a
corner of the club veranda. The poor
prune!
And then here a short time back
begins the great revolt. First | knew
about it was one night at the club
when l discovers Milton stridin' bold
into the smokin' room with big black
cigar between his teeth. Not only that
but he stands around with his feet
wide apart and his chest thrown out
and pretty soon he's lippin' into the
general debate believe it was about
which of the world series teams had
the best string of pitchers-and he
gives off some cock-sure opinions.
Next thing know he's drifted over to
where little game of quarter ante
is going on and is sizin' up the play
critical.
II say he cuts in, "what about let
ting me have stack, eh?"
why, sure, old man." says one of
the crowd. Didn't know you were
an addict"
ooh, Pm little rusty" says Milton,
"but perhaps 1 can brush up. Three
cards, please"
It's such an odd sight, seeing Mil
ton Wilde actin like a regular guy
that l had to tow Mr.. Robert in and
point it out to him.
What do you know about that?"
says 1. Millions playing hockey"
"The wickid old boy!" says Mr.. Rob-
ert what if his wife found out?"
Don't says 1. You curdle my
blood"
All that evenin', too, was expectin
any minute to see her come leadin'
him by the ear out to the limousine
and lock him in. But nothing like
that happens. In fact, l didn't get a
glimpse of Mrs. Wilde at all, and when
we left along about 11.45, Milton was
still sittin' in the game. He'd shed
his coat, and his hair was mussed,
and there was reckless look in his
eye as he bought a fresh stack and
lighted another double Corona. 1 was
telling Wee about it as we drives back.
What do you suppose has happened
to make him act like that?" she asks.
"II can make a better guess at
what's going to happen to him when
he gets home" says l, "but wouldn't
like to harrow up your feelin's. Any
away, he's having a night out and l
guess it's coming to him. What I'm
wonderin' is. how many years it'll be
before he gets another"
But instead Of that being Millions
finish it only seemed to be his start.
Next time 1 saw him he was all dolled
up in tweed Knockers and a pivot
sleeve coat and is luggin' a golf bag
out to where our near Scotch pro. was
waitin' to give him golf lesson.
Huh" thinks 1. "That means
Saturday afternoon and Sunday morn
in sessions, and maybe flask on the
hip. Tut, tut, Milton! l don't be-
lieve you can get away with it"
He seems to, though. Anyway, in
side of month he's chummin' around
with other buffers and talkin' loud in
~. oh hn could