he property. I will sell
outright, take a mortgage for the balance, which you will disburse at
the rate of five hundred dollars per year. You can do it and make money
at the same time. You will kill two birds with half a stone. Why, in
twenty years' time Rockefeller will be asking you to endorse his notes."

The sale was made and the hero jumped into a store on Railway Avenue
without a seed or cell, and in a short time the moss began to grow so
thick upon him that he had all the sharks in B.C. asking him for a
coating. And then he wrote for his wife, whom he missed for the first
time. The letter ran thus:

"Ultima Thule, B.C., March 1st. 1915.

"My Dear Wife:

"You will see by the heading of this letter that fortune has cast me off
at Ashcroft, and I must congratulate myself for initiating that rolling
stone 'stunt.' I have stumbled upon the richest mine in B.C. The gold
is sticking out of it in chunks. The auto that you will play when you
arrive will be a 'hum dinger' and no mistake. I am enclosing my cheque
for $500. Buy out Tim Eaton and bring your dear self here, for I am
lonely without you.

"Your hitherto demented husband."

She read it fifty times, placed it next her heart and pranced about like
a five-year-old. "Now, just where is Ashcroft?" she soliloquized. None
of the Bruce county aborigines seemed to know, so she consulted a world
map, and she found it growing like a parasite to the Canadian Pacific
Railway away in among the mountains of British Columbia.

But this was nothing. She would have risked a journey over the Atlantic
in an aeroplane if it were a means of uniting her with the man who was
the only masculine human in existence so far as she was concerned--the
man whom she had singled out and adopted from among the millions of his
kind. When they met the union was pathetic, but it was lovely. To make a
woman happy, who loves you like this, should be the consummation of a
man's domestic ambitions.

It was pointed out to him afterwards that, after all, the moss did not
begin to grow until he had settled down in Ashcroft. So he lost his
knighthood as an iconoclast.

Of Cultus Johnny

Once upon a time at Spence's Bridge, County of Yale, Province of British
Columbia, on the Indian reserve, there lived two Indians named Cultus
(bad) Johnny and Hias (big) Peter. They were friends until Peter got
married, and then the trouble began, because they both wanted the same
klootchman. T