go, for I can find," said he,
"No penalty for murder in the thirty-third degree!"

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Lippincott's Magazine.

TABLE MANNERS[2]

BY JAMES MONTGOMERY FLAGG

When you turn down your glass, it's a sign
That you're not going to take any wign.
So turn down your plate
When they serve things you hate,
And you'll often be asked out to dign.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] By permission of Life Publishing Company.

THE GIRL AND THE JULEP

BY EMERSON HOUGH

In the warm sun of the southern morning the great plantation lay as
though half-asleep, dozing and blinking at the advancing day. The
plantation house, known in all the country side as the Big House, rested
calm and self-confident in the middle of a wide sweep of cleared lands,
surrounded immediately by dark evergreens and the occasional primeval
oaks spared in the original felling of the forest. Wide and rambling
galleries of one height or another crawled partially about the expanses
of the building, and again paused, as though weary of the attempt to
circumvent it. The strong white pillars, rising from the ground floor
straight to the third story, shone white and stately, after the old
Southern fashion, that Grecian style, simplified and made suitable to
provincial purses by those Adams brothers of old England who first set
the fashion in early American architecture. White-coated, with wide,
cool, green blinds, with ample and wide-doored halls, and deep, low
windows, the Big House, here in the heart of the warm southland, was
above all things suited to its environment. It was all so safe and sure
that there was no need for anxiety. Life here was as it had been for
generations, even for the generation following the upheaval of the Civil
War.

But if this were a kingdom apart and self-sufficient, what meant this
thing which crossed the head of the plantation--this double line,
tenacious and continuous, which shone upon the one hand dark, and upon
the other, where the sun touched it, a cold gray in color? What meant
this squat little building at the side of these rails which reached on
out straight as the flight of a bird across the clearing and vanished
keenly in the forest wall? This was the road of the iron rails. It clung
close to the ground, at times almost sinking into the embankment now
grown scarcely discernible among the concealing grass and weeds,
although the track itself had been built but recently. This railroad
sough