The literary editor rose with indignation in his face.
“For shame, sir,” he said, “do not act so unworthy a part. Confront your faithless wife, Mr. Skinner, and denounce her for wrecking your life and home. Why do you hesitate to stand up for your honor and your rights?”
“You do not understand,” said the man, his face white with fear and apprehension, as he climbed out the window upon a shed. “I am William Wagstaff.”
Turkish Questions
Oh, Sultan, tell us quick, we pray
What was it Pasha Said?
And have they burned the vilayet?
So many tales we’ve read.
Who was it passed the Dardanelles?
And were they counterfeit?
And why was Kharput beaten so?
Was there much dust in it?
Oh, Ottoman, to do like you
Who Hassan eye to see
The woes your country has to hear—
Armenia heart must be!
And tell us, is the Bosphorus?
Or is it still for you?
Why is it that you every day
Mustafa head or two?
Somebody Lied
Two men went into a saloon on Main Street yesterday and braced up solemnly to the bar. One was an old man with gray whiskers, the other was a long, lanky youth, evidently his son. Both were dressed like farm hands and they appeared somewhat bewildered at the splendor of the saloon.