Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1928-07-01

|wO men we're sitting in the bar
parlor of the Anglers Rest as
/ entered it. and one of them
i was telling the other a story.
I could hear an occasional Big
EeSt I ever saw in my life!" and Fully
as large as that" but. i'll such place,
1t was not difficult to imagine the rest;
and when the second man, catching
my eye. winked at me with sort OF
humorous misery. I smiled back at
him
The action had the effect Of estab-
fishing a bond between us. and when
the story-teller finished his tale and
left. he came over 10 my table
Dreadful liars some men are" he
said genially.
Fishermen" suggested. are tradi-
tionslly careless of the truth
He wasn't fisherman said my
companion. That was our local doc
tor Besides tapped me on the
knee-'you must not fall into the
popular error about fishermen. Tradi-
ton has msligned them. am 8
fisherman myself. and l have never
told lie in my life"
could we'll believe it. The thing
that struck me first about him was the
extraordinary candor Of his eyes. They
were large and round and honest.
would have bought oil stock from him
without a tremor.
The door opened, and a small man.
with rimless pince-nez and an anxious
expression. shot in like a rabbit and
he'd consumed a ginger-beer, almost
before we knew he was there. Having
thrs refreshed himself. he stood looking
81 us. seemingly Ill at ease.
"N-h-u-n-n-n-" he said.
We booked at him inquiringlv
Mr. -n-r-n-n-ice d-d-d-d-"
His fscrve appeared to fail him ana
he vanished as abruptly as he had
come
Il think he was leading up to telling
Us that It was a nice day" hazarded
my companion.
1T must be very embarrassing. l
said. for a man with such a painful
impeachment in his speech to open con-
versation with strangers"
Probably trying to cure himself.
Lake my nephew. George. Have I ever
told you about him?"
! reminded him that We had only
Just met and that this was the first
time l had learned that he had a
nephew
Young George Mulliner. My name
b Mulliner. I will tell you about
remarkable one"
GEORGE (said Mr. Mulliner) was as
nice a fellow as you would wish to
meet, but, from childhood up. he had
been cursed with a terrible stammer
If he had had to earn his living he
would have found this affiiction a great
handicap. but his father had left him
q comfortable income, and George
passed his days in the usual country
sports and his evenings in doing cross
word puzzles. BY the time he was 80
he knew more about Eli, the prophet,
Ra, the Sun God, and the bird, Emu
than anybody else in the county. ex-
cept Susan Blake. the wears daughter
who had also taken up the solving of
crossword puzzles and was the first
girl in worcestershire to find out the
meaning Of "stearine" and "crepuscu-
lar"
1t was his association with Miss
Blake that turned Georges thoughts to
a serious endeavor to cure himself of
his stammer. Naturally. with this hob
by in common. the young people saw
great deal of each other, for George was
always looking in at the vicarage to ask
her If she knew a word of seven letters
meaning "appertaining to the profession
OF plumbing" and Susan was Just as
constant caller at Georges cottage
being frequently stumped, as girls will
be. by words of eight letters signifying
largely used in the manufacture of
poppet valves" The consequence was
that one evening. after she had helped
him out Of tight place with the word
tablishmentarianism," the boy
realized that she was all the world to
him.
And yet, every time he tried to tell
her so he could get no farther than
sibilant gurgle
Something had TO be done, and
George went to London to see a spe-
ciallst
"Yes?" said the specialist.
"I-I-I-T-I-I-I--"s said George.
"you were saying"
"Woo-woo-woo-woo-w
''Sing it." said the specialist.
S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-?" said George,
puzzled.
The specialist explained
Many people he said. who are I'M
able to aritculate clearly in ordinary
speech find themselves lucid and bell
like when they burst into song"
II seemed a good idea to George. He
thought for a moment, then threw his
head back. shut his eyes and let II go
IN q musical baritone.
I love a lassie. bonny, bonny las