revolved around the $2 bargain in
Britannia. Mrs. Pallzey had to use Metal Polish on it to keep it from
turning black.

When the Visitors lined up in front of the Mantel and gazed at the tiny
Shaving Mug, the Cellar Champion on the World would regale them with
the story of hairbreadth 'Scapes and moving Adventures by Gravel
Gullies and rushing Streams on the Memorable Day when he (Pallzey) had
put the Blocks to Old Man McLaughlin, since deceased.

Then he would ask all present to feel of his Forearm, after which he
would pull the Favorite One about Golf adding ten years to his life.

Mrs. Pallzey would be sitting back, pouring Tea, but she never chimed
in with any Estimate as to what had been the effect on her Table of
Expectations.

MORAL: Remain under the Awning.

THE NEW FABLE OF THE LONESOME CAMP ON THE FROZEN HEIGHTS

Elam was the main Whizzer in a huddle of Queen Annes, bounded on the
North by a gleaming Cemetery, on the East by a limping subdivision, on
the South by a deserted Creamery, and on the West by an expanse of
Stubble.

Claudine was the other two-thirds of the Specialty.

She was a snappy little Trick and it was a dull hour of the Day or
Night when she couldn't frame up a new General Order for the
Breadwinner.

The Marriage came off during the third summer of her twenty-seventh
year.

She accepted Elam about a week before he proposed to her, thus
simplifying the Ordeal.

While the Wafer on the License was still warm, she put on her spangled
Suit, moved to the centre of the Ring, and cracked the Whip.

After than Elam continued to be a Hellion around the Office, but in his
private Quarters he was merely Otto, the Trained Seal.

Claudine could make him Bark, play the Cymbals, or go back to the Blue
Bench.

There is one Elam in every Settlement.

All the wise Paper-hangers and the fly Guitar Players had him marked up
as a Noodle, but somehow, every time the winning Numbers were hung out,
he would be found in Line, waiting to Cash.

He was not Bright enough to do anything except garner the Gold
Certificates.

Elam had no Ear for Music, and, coming out of the Opera House, never
could remember the name of the Play or which one of the Burglars was
the real Hero.

His Reading was confined to the Headlines of a conservative Paper which
was still printing War News.

Baseball had not come into his Life whatsoever.

A cultured Steno, who knew about George Meredith and Arnold Bennett,