“After what we guys heard to-night,” said John Hogan, “I’m beginning to think that old Schuppy was more of a prophet than we give him credit for.” “You have invited me over here from Number 9,” said the man, “and I must ask you men not to say things that might have a tendency to kill my faith, because that’s all I have left.” “You have more than we have,” said Higgins, “and we are going to try to strengthen your faith, rather than weaken it.”
“We’ll try to,” said Ikey. “Better go to bed now,” said John Hogan; “you look tired. Ikey’s room is the coolest in the house. Show him his bed.” “Good night. Thank you for your kindness, men,” said the man from Number 9, as he followed Ikey to his room. “Good night,” said Higgins and Hogan. “Poor devil!” said Bill Wiley, as the man disappeared into Ikey’s room.
“He’s got the right dope on religion,” said John Hogan, “and is happy in it.” “He bears no ill-feeling for the woman who ruined his life,” said Higgins. “Why pity him? He’s happy because he believes in a living God.” “That check he’s got must be worth good money by now,” said Ikey, returning. “Why don’t the darn fool cash it in?”
THE CANAL ZONE ARCHITECT’S WEDDING
N Germany, before the days of the American occupation at Panama, there lived with her mother a beautiful, golden-haired, blue-eyed girl named Hulda Schneider. The Schneiders were very poor, but they had held their own, for they had been fighters. But of what use are fighters there nowadays, except as bodyguards to the Kaiser’s numerous off-spring? Hulda had tastes inherent in such people, and, having no means of gratifying them, she chafed in her environment. “I’ll tell you what to do,” said a sophisticated girl friend, who had lived for a time at Hoboken, N. J. “Put an ad in a New York City newspaper, saying that you are young and pretty and just dying to make some good American happy.”
“Shall I get a millionaire, do you think?” asked the innocent Hulda.
“You may,” said her adviser. “If you don’t, you may get a Jew, and that’s almost the same thing.”
“But I don’t want a Jew,” said Hulda. “I want an American who is rich, young and handsome.”
Accordingly, an advertisement was sent to a New York Sunday paper announcing that a good-looking girl in Germany was pining to marry a rich American. Meanwhile, blue-eyed, golden-haired Hulda settled down to await a reply.