White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1926-05-28
CONTINUED from Last Week.

mine. / know how she felt. Sh,
wanted to marry me; she did like me
But she wasn't cut out for the sof
stuff what some danes bat thou
sand at Her old man is askin' he]
pointblank to fake a fondness fol
the stuff, and save him a pennant. OF
course she was upset-the real rea
son was me. thrills, and sets Out
to be hero.
"Ophie, l don't think it'd be right
to disappoint your daddy"
She raised her face. II couldn't dc
what he wants. A man who would
starve himself to satisfy the vanity
OF a woman doesn't appeal to me-"
He's not supposed to appeal"
comes back quick. "Your main job
will be to make him eat"
II don't think Dad can get hin
here, anyway"
why not? The hardware stores
| still sell rope"
He's desperate, isn't he?"
HE is," I admits.
Il will help" Ophelia remarks.
thought Mac would go into Mysteries
he is so happy.
Prepare a feast for tomorrow
night" he details. "Jimll stay home
and help. We can lose tomorrow
without him"
ESPECIALLY If you're there" evens
the score.
Did you ever see that movie where
clerk gets million dollars sudden ?
His face takes on the appearance of a
risin' sun, and then he clears the top
of the desk with one sweep of the
arm. Well, that's half of my actions
when fuss round hinderin' Ophelia's
efforts the next day. day-dreamed
of shack
When Mac finally comes he has
made good. Bimbo is beside him. We
couldn't believe our eyes, Ophelia has
enough calories stacked on that table
to make a giant outa Tom Thumb
Appetizin' lookin'?
"Mr. JONES'" Mac emits diplomatic,
like statesman pleadin' for national
peace, II want to make you acquaint-
ed with my daughter, Ophelia."
II am delighted" Ophelia tells him,
and suffer a chill. Then 1 remem-
bers.
Bimbo acts like bus-driver at a
street-car mems convention. How
could he help it? A window is open
in the dinin' room; he is lingerin' to
the windward side. Into his ,nostrils
the call Of old is batterin'. Steak!
Smothered in mushrooms. Mullins!
II have followed your playing close
ly," murmurs Ophelia. II expect
have worried more about your recent
slump than Dad or you. do so want
to win this year."
"I'll get goin' soon," Bimbo whines.
Daddy, invite Mr.. Jones to dine
with us. I've got enough to go
around"
Go round? l should say-th world
ten calories high. But Bimbo is
balkin.'
"Bosh," exclaims Mac. Don't be
bashful, my lad I'm confident that
some Of Ophelia's output would break
your slump.
Lord, if Bimbo only know the faith
Mac had in that statement.
'T'm almost SICK" drones Bimbo.
II can't-eat."
Come on" Mac grabs him play
full.
Sure" l chimes in, clutchin the
por simp. We was desperate enough
to feed him with spoon. We land
ed him high and dry on chair near
est the steak-to the windward Bim-
BIO stiffens, like man with convul-
sions threatenin'. His eyes dilated.
pass Mr.. Jones the steak, jim"
Mac orders, before Bimbo is clear
down.
"1'll try little piece" declares
Bimbo. Ophelia took the steerin'
wheel.
MIR. Jones am considered an ex-
cellent cook. If you are true gen.
tleman you won't offend me by doubt
ing"
Il didn't mean that" Bimbo hur-
ries, while his tremblin' hand weak
ems. He takes fair-sized portion.
Please, Mr.. JONES'" Ophelia pleads,
and abruptly sticks another piece on
his plate. Mac kicks me under the
table.
Well, sir, when Bimbo got started
there wasn't no stoppin' him. Mac
and me tries to keep him company
but it took lotta stallin' towards the
last.
"If die, Miss Mathews, I'll say this
is the greatest meal l ever laid lips
to-" Bimbo flatters. He amt bad at
that stuff Ophelia passes him the
fourth helpin' O. French fried. You
know, they're fattenin'.
II love people who eat as their ap-
petites dictate" Ophelia smiles. l
kicked myself I got the idea after