"Oh?" said the thin man, in a surprising burst of fluency; "he-he-de d-d-did-did-"

66

Who did?" queried the fat man, talking louder than any one else.

"Num-num-num-num-n-no-nobody nobody. He he d-d-d dud-didn't didn't s-"

"Then wha' made you say he did?" howled the deaf

man.

woman.

You misunderstand him," interrupted the precise "He was probably about to remark that no reference whatever had been intentionally made to the departure of any person from the train, when you interrupted him in the midst of an unfinished sentence, and hence obtained an erroneous impression of the tenor of his remarks. He meant no offense-" "Know a fence?" roared the fat man.

know a fence!"

"Of course I

"He hain't got middlin' good hearin'," yelled the big man, as apologetically as a steam whistle could have shrieked it. "Y'ears kind of stuffed up!"

"Time to brush up?" cried the fat man. "Wha' for?" "No," shrieked the precise woman; "he remarked to the other gentleman that your hearing appeared to be rather defective."

"His father a detective?" hooted the fat gentleman, in amazement.

man;

"h-h

"N-n-n-n-nun-nun-no!" broke in the thin h-h-huh-huh-he-s-s-sa-sa-said-said you w-w-w-wuh was a

little dud-dud-was a little deaf!"

"Said I was a thief!" howled the fat man, a scarlet tornado of wrath; "said I was a thief! Wha' d'ye mean? Show him to me! Who says I'm a thief? Who says so?"

"Now," shouted the big rough man, "nobody don't say ye ain't no thief. I jest sayed as how we didn't git along very well. Ye see he," nodding to the thin man, "he can't talk very well, an'-"

"Wh-wh-wh-why c-c-can't I t-t-t-tut-tut-tut-talk?" broke in the thin man, white with rage. "I-I-I-I'd like

t-t-to know wh-wh-wh-what's the reason I c-c-can't tuttut-talk as w-w-w-well as any bub-bub-body that's bubbub-bub-been tut-tut-talking on this car ever s-s-s-since the tut-tut-tut-"

"Hey?" roared the fat man, in an explosion of indignant suspicion.

"I was sayin'," howled the big rough man, he didn't talk middlin' well-"

66

as how

"Should say so," growled the fat man, in tones of intense satisfaction.

"And," the big rough man went on, yelling with delight at having made the old party hear something, "and you can't hear only tollable-"

"Can't hear?" the fat old gentleman broke out in a resonant roar. "Can't hear! Like to know why I can't hear! Why can't I? If I couldn't hear better than half the people on this train I'd cut off my ears! Can't hear? It's news to me if I can't. I'd like to know who-”

"Burlington!" yelled the brakeman. Keokuk, Ceed Rap's an' For' Mad'son! Omaha? Twen' mints f'r supper!"

"Chag car f'r

This car f'r

And but for this timely interruption, I don't think our pleasant little party would have got out of that snarl this side of San Francisco.

ROBERT J. BURDETTE.

MICK TANDY'S REVENGE.

"AND why's the ra'son ye'll not be my wife, Kath

lie ?"

"Give me yer r'asons for bein' such a fool, Kathlie," said the young blacksmith. "Bekase is no r'ason at all!"

"Don't be botheria' me, Mick," said Kathleen, in a pleading tone, with tears hanging on the long lashes. that fringed her gray eyes.

"There's some other boy in my way!" he exclaimed, almost fiercely.

Kathleen turned her head slightly, and a little flush came to her cheek.

"Is it not that same that ails ye?"

"And it is," said Kathleen, frankly.

"It's the Earl's waitin' man-a white-faced fool that chooses rather to dance round anither fool with a brush in his hands, than to do brave, hard work with the two stout fists God gave him!”

"It's niver a bit him!"

"Is it the inn-kaper's son, who wears the rid diamin' pin and drinks half his father's whiskey?"

"Niver him!"

"It surely can never be Teddy Looney, that's contint to mind sheep and shear 'em? The little spalpeen, with curls and pink checks like a girl, and a cough like a sick collie-dog?"

"It's just him, Mick!"

Mick threw back his head and laughed. But it was a bitter, scornful laugh. "Look at thim two hands o' mine, as strong as iron and as black as coal; hands that had shod two hundred horses afore they was twenty-five years old! And my father with two hunder and fifty pounds o' money in the bank for me! Look now at me with a hunder and saxty pounds o' flesh on my bones, and two arms that can thrash any three lads in Coloony! Am I like him ?''

"Yese not, indade!”

"Am I as poor as him whose father has bare enough laid by to bury his family?"

"Thin will ye marry me in place o' him?" "Niver!"

"And why niver ?"

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"Bekase I loves him and he's so pretty, Mick," said Kathlie, with amusing frankness, and blushing deeply. "Thin I'll bate him till I put out the small bit o' beauty and the little life that's in him!" cried Mick, fiercely.

"Yese not mane enough to bate a lad less than yersel', Mick! Ye were niver a coward, afore! Don't be one now! If ye want to fight, sarch for one that's yer equal for size and beauty; small chance for findin' one!''

"I'll do that, my jewel!" cried Mick, greatly mollified by this shrewd compliment. He drew a heavy sigh, and as he walked away he said, mournfully, "God bliss ye, Kathlie, whatever happens to yer poor, wake-chisted, low-voiced thing o' a lover."

Teddy and Kathleen had long had secret plans for emigrating to America-that terrestrial heaven of the

Irish. And now Kathleen, being seized with fear of the powerful young blacksmith, hastened the wedding and the departure. So quietly and quickly were their plans carried out, that they had set sail from Liverpool before their neighbors knew they were married.

Many are the gay dreams of wealth and pleasure that dance in the brains of young emigrants which are rudely broken or never fulfilled! Teddy and Kathleen were comparatively rich, for they landed with good, strong clothes and shoes, two blue wooden boxes, and "twinty pounds o' money."

Perhaps the innocent boy expected to find applicants waiting to engage him to tend flocks and to shear them åt Castle Garden! Perhaps Kathleen, in her ignorance, thought of stepping at once into a bright little home of her own, with a looking-glass and a rocking-chair ready to reflect and to receive her! But there was no call for shepherds, and Teddy was not strong enough for rough work on a farm or a railroad; nor yet for enduring the close air of a factory.

They tried first one place and then another; one kind of work and then another, till their "fortune" of one hundred dollars was gone. Then they wrote home, under charge of secrecy; and a fond grandfather sent Kathlie ten pounds, with which they went West. Next, Teddy fell ill, and they wrote again, and the other grandfather sent a hoarded five pounds, and with that they came East again!

In the meantime, Mick grew moody and gloomy, and his parents feared for his reason. They urged him to go to confession—a ceremony he had seldom gone through, as his sins never troubled him much. But he went to the priest to please his mother.