> \

r*,&, K

K %

'X' >:•> . • : • • • '

' t f .

fr *> { A* >

f ti * f - >' , hft PAGE FOUR

v >, ' 4 \ ' " ' S. ^ "v > 1 •». > V

' ,<*•

"\

U ?-!!

51 * *v

THE EVENING TIMERS, GRAND FORKS, N. C. M >

TBe evening times. tlMMBRALD PUBLISHING CO.

(IkwhnM-PUBLISHERS AMD PROPRIETORS

Published every evening except Sunday

5'

b>

AH papers are continued until an ex­plicit order to discontinue Is received, and until all arrears are paid.

Subscribers desiring address chanced must send former address at. veil as saw one.

SuberiptlM Kates. One year by mall or carrier, it paid

In advance Six months, by mall or carrier. If

paid in advance 92.00 In not paid In advance, per month. .40

THE WEEKLY TIMES-HER AL.D. Published every Thursday and con­

tains a summary of the week's news, both local and foreign.

< M \ H '

ii? ! *

One year In advance Six months In advance Three months In advance.... Foreign postage per year....

' • • • ..91.26 .. .75 .. .60 .. .60

Porelgn Representatives—Carpenter-Bcheerer Special Agency,. Peoples Gas Building. Chicago; Fifth Avenue Build­ing. New York.

POTATOES.

Entered at second class matter at the post office at Grand Forks. North Da­kota.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1913.

PHILIPPINE GOVERNMENT-

f tj

t i f f - . Ih t i i,' r*\ * .'e }

!• A : v ! t 15!"

I1

1: £' i'

iEj! ; 1 >

!< ' h *

I'M

t' ?i !

We had never had any patience with the theory that it was the duty of the American government to de­clare immediately that it would at a

• specified time, or as soon as the people were able to govern thmselvea, grant to the Philippines a separate and in­dependent national government. That program simply begs trouble. Such a promise Is unnecessary, for the thing

• promised can at any time thought ad­visable be done, without any promise of any Kind. It is dangerous to the peace and progress of the islands themselvesj because it will tend toward an agitation there which will retard the very progress necessary to ulti­mate independence. It is unwise and impolitic so far as this country is con­cerned, because it entails on us an obligation to at a certain time a thing which, when the time comes, it may appear should not be done then, or at all.

There is pending in congress a res­olution known as the Jones resolution which provides that at the end of eight years the Philippines shall be turned over to an independent gov­ernment. What will be the fate of| that resolution cannot be predicted. The democratic party is far from a unit on the question, and most of the republicans are opposed to the pro­posed program. The attitude of the administration on the resolution has

tnot been announced. But the ad­ministration is taking one step which is decidedly Indicative of sanity, which constitutes a safe and rational recognition of the progress being made in the Philippines in self-gov­ernment, and which leaves the way open for the future treatment of Phil­ippine matters on their merits, and on the basis of the needs of the time as they, develop and become apparent.

This step is the changing of the i complexion of the Philippine commis­

sion. or "senate," and placing control j

of it in tlie hands of natives instead of Americans- The representative leg­islative house is controlled by Fili­pinos, but the commission, which has veto power over all legislation, and

. thus controls the situation, Is a body cans. The terms of two of the Amer-of nine men. six of whom are Amer­icans expire very . soon, and is an­nounced as the intention of the ad­ministration to appoint two native statesmen in their places. This will give the native element a majority on the commission.

The plan of keeping a majority of Americans on the board was a good one when it was started, and it has doubtless been wise to continue it un­til the pMsent. But conditions are be­coming more settled, and the intend­ed change will be a proper recognition of the progress that has been made, and a demonstration of the intent of this country to grant local self-gov-eminent to the people over there just as far and as fast as Is practicable. The step is a wise and useful one, and it should be followed by the indefinite

' shelving of the mischievous and dan-gtrous Jones resolution.

WHICH PAYS BEST?

The average crop of potatoes in the United States runs, one year with an­other, about 90 bushels per acre. Charles Carson, of Larimore, told the ! editor a few. days ago that liis crop j this fall was running about 150 bush- | els per acre. Small plots, well culti- j rated, frequently run from 800 to 400 bushels-

C. W. Andrews, the Walhalla bank­er and farmer, tells of the experience of a farmer near Wallialla. This fartjier lives on an upland farm in the brush country some miles west of town. Last spring he broke an acre of land for potatoes. He grubbed the land by hand, plowed it well, and then, with a home-made harrow with mam­moth teeth, he dragged the ground back and forth and crossways until he had all the fine roots brought to the surface. These were gathered and burned, and potatoes were planted. Naturally the man who took such pains with the preparation of his soil for seed took good care of It during the summer. This fall, of that single acre of land he gathered 600 bushels of potatoes.

On the basis of cost as computed for the cultivation of large tracts in a thorough manner those potatoes cost the grower about sis cents a bushel, exclusive of the rent of land, which would add another half cent. Of course in this particular case the act­ual cost would be higher, as most of the labor was performed by hand, but it is easy to see what an enormous difference in profit there is between putting enough labor on the land to reap just an average crop, and put­ting on enough to realize a big crop. On the farm, as everywhere else, prof­it lies in getting the land—the plant-to produce to Ita full capacity.

n

The Evening Story

a*

THE BUNGALOW

REFORM NEEDED.

Our old friend Kiser, of the Chicago Record-Herald is back from his well-earned vacation, and his column* of humor scintillates more brllliantly than ever. Anent the confessions of a murderer he writes:

"One of the msot distressing fea­tures of our present scheme of civiliza­tion is that which makes it necessary for a murderer to boast of more mur­ders than he has actually committed. Murder, you see. has become so com­mon that the murderer who quits aft­er he has killed one or two people Is likely to be almost unftotlced in the great throng of murderers. Something ought to be done at once to remedy this condition. Why pu! a premium upon murder by denying publicity to those who murder only occasionally? If the man who murders but once, even in an ordinary way, could be assured of. widespread notoriety he might be willing after disposing of one victim to take up some other line. Perhaps somebody can be induced to start a movement which will bring about the desired result without too seriously Interfering with the business of the p'urveyori of pistols, poisons and poppy pills."

(Copyright, 1913, by W. Werner.) Eliza Martin stood at the window

mending a torn apron. Every third stitch she glanced down at the street below, it was a narrow street Into which the hot June sunshine poured and from which arose the odors of congested humanity. It was a street of plain homes, and Eliza Martin's was as plain as any—not poor, but lacking In the things which richer folks find necessary. Yet Eliza Mar­tin was well content. She had lived in the city all her life and in a much poorer way than she was living now. She was used to coping with discom­forts or ignoring them. Not that she was particularly strong or that Abel was strong, though he worked every day at his trade. It wag nb wonder that the little girl, Viva, was a deli­cate child. TJjls fact constituted Eliza's one trouble. It was that made her stand at the window and watch for her. She., was Anxious from the moment Viva left her sight until she returned.

When now Viva appeared her heart gave a leap of relief. The girl was walking slowly. Her strap of school books dangled from her hand. Her

• Rev. J. M. Palmer, who cams up . from Mcintosh county to attend the

Presbyterian synod meeting at Lang-don, tells of the experience of a farm, er down there which suggests an an­swer to the question: Which kind of farming pays best? J

.'*• This farmer drove to his nearest town recently in a light spring wag-on or buggy. In order to make the most of his frip he carried along a lit-

U ^ tie produce- He threw in two sacks Of potatoes; a few other vegetables,

I'- a few Jars of butter, some eggs and "three or four chickens, and Jogged In

'Pr ': to town. He sold his little load of stuff for $85 cash, making a quick trip, with little inconvenience,

fe/':• A little later, in' order to obtain a ° larger sum of money, he hauled to &'••• town twft loads of wheat, ordinary y'y two*horst loads, and for th* two loads, "evidently a little less than 100 bushels,

hereeeived $*s. In other words, the mixed produce

which the farmer carried to town in a buggy, as an incident of a trip to tbwn on other business, brought In more money than one load of wheat, haultd in a heavy wagon, and re-

?' quiring the full time of a man and the full labor of a team.

Mr. Palmer had no figures as to the Jk' comparative cost of the two kinds of ?products, but any one at all familiar

wltti the subject Jtnows that at any­thing like present prices, thirty-two dollars' worth of small truck can be produced on a fraction of the land re-

jf - qtilred for a similar value in wheat, Can be produced at smaller risk, with

\ smaller expenditure for labor, and fei a much better distribution of la-P-Vj'-hor. Is It necessary to lak which pays

111*": • • p^#iftill.;tha.fciiid of kisses womea give

imtik other don't cut into their after-or other spars time $ treat

' J| ', I#-"; /

* POINTED PARAGRAPHS. •

Unreal pleasures are the most ex-pensive.

marred* either self"made or self-

„ the heiress who marries a title seldom gets her money's worth.

is Taking things philosophically easy if they don't concern you.

hii'ou c®"fla"er a man by calling nlm a sad dog, but call him a measlv eur and hell try to alter your map.

We imagine that a dumb barber would be even more satisfactory than a dumb waiter.

Jealousy will not listen to reason, because it doesn't believe there is such a thing.

Let the smsll boy make the noise of the neighborhood and he cares not who does the work.

Honesty is a boomerang that never looks better to a man than when it comes home to, roost.

If a man can't persuade some wom­en to lead him Into temptation, he gets busy and butts in of his own accord.

She Was Anxious.

face was a white spot under her wide hat. When she saw her mother at the high window she waved, but without any strong exuberance. She mounted the stairs painfully and came In ex­hausted and panting. Her books fell, she pushed off her hat and sank upon the couch.

"Why. darling," asked Eliza in alarm, "are you sick?'*

She knelt beside the couch and smoothed back the girl's damp hair. She was all concern and tenderness.

"It's so hot." moaned Viva, "and I'm so tired. I'm so tired I don't care about anything."

Her brow was hot, her eyes dilated, and yet she had a strange pallor, Eliza wondered. She knew little about illness. She really never had been sick more than once or twice In the course of her whole life. She got up and, going to the refrigerator, pre­pared a glass of milk with splinters of ice in it. She brought it to Viva.

"Here, darling, drink this and you'll feel better," she urged.

Viva looked at the milk and at her mother. She wanted to obey, but dis­taste forbade her. She turned her litle. pale face into the pillow and sobbed: "I can't mamma, I can't?"

Eliza set the glass down. She did not know what next to Jo. She felt very helpless. Then it occurred to her that Mrs, Dougher, the genial Irishwoman in the flat below, might be wiser than she. She went down­stairs. She had to knock thrice be­fore the door opened, although she heard voices behind It. Mrs. Dougher apologized. -The doctor's here, Dougher is having one of his poor spells again."

"The doctor!" Eliza said. She paused. It seemed to her a strange thing that she should thus happen upon the doctor. "Viva's sick, too," she went on, "and I .don't know What doctor do you have?"

"Dr. Marlow. Sure, he's a man to be trusted."

"I guess," Eliza said slowly, "5-ou may send him upstairs when vou're through with him. I'd like to have him see Viva."

When she went back she did not tell Viva what sh» had done. The child was not used to doctors and had a horror of them. She let him an­nounce himself by entering. He was a middle aged man, with a tired, kind face. He sat down by the couch. Viva whirled about and faced him, all

suspicion. But when she saw hts smile her litle face relaxed in re­sponse. She let the doctor take her 'hand. She showed him her tongue. She let him tap her chest and listen there. He somehow reassured her.

Eliza followed him out the door. She almost felt she might have saved her 92. As far as she could tell from his face Viva was quite safe.» "Well?" she demanded.

The doctor looked at her critically. "If you want to save j our little girl,'* he said Anally, "you must get her out of that flat Into the open sir. The city is no place for her. You must take her out of school. The trouble is here." He touched his chest.

Eliza knew what he. meant. She had seen enough of humanity to real­ize what faced her. She turned Sick as the doctor went on talking. When he had finished she bowed her head silently in acceptance of all his facts. She felt unable to speak.

When Abel dame home Viva was asleep. In the kitchen, where their voices could not reach the child, they had a long talk, but they came to no conclusion, beyond—"We must do something at once."

The next noon Abel came home almost Joyous. "Luck's with us!" he cried. "I've got a place. It's Hew­itt's place—one of those new lots in that new section that was opened up last fall. Hewitt went to work and had a house built on it: one of those bungalows. But his wife Jon't like it. And he don't like it, because it's so far from his work. He had to walk a mile before he caught the car line. So he wants to sell. I heard him try­ing to make a sals with a fellow, and I just steps up and says. 'Here, I'll take your bungalow. Hewitt.' He didn't know what to say for a minute, I took htm so by surprise. But I got It all right. It's right out in the brush and the nearest thing to the country I know of. It ought to be good for her."

Eliza put her arms about his neck and looked into his eyes with tears in her own. She wss thinking of that long mile he must walk in heat and cold, of the still, longer car ride. "Dear." she whispered, and kissed him tenderly.

Next day she took Viva to see the house, it was very cool on the hill­side in the shade. The town seemed far away, so still was It. The bunga­low had only four rooms, but there was a goodly porch. Eliza saw that she must do without many of the things she had found useful in her flat, and it made her regret the flat. But for Viva's sake what was there she would not do?

"Mamma!" The child came running in shouting, "tiook what I've found!" She had a daisy In her hand. Her

The Future Was Full of Dreams and Promises for Her.

«

face had suddenly lost the deathly listlessness of two days before.

Eliza smiled at her. "You'll like It here, darling?"

"I'll love it. mamma." That night Eliza told Abel what

Viva had said and he laughed. Two days later they moved. They had not over much of household furnishing to encumber them. One big van took it all. And there they were in the midst of the silence and the loneliness and—the good air.

They rigged up a sleeping porch for Viva, and because she dare not sleep out doors alone they Slept there with her. It was amaxtng how soundly they all slumbered. There were no sounds to disturb them. One morning Abel actually overslept and had to

Which Will He Disown? —By Webster.

wADDV HOW!

Lb

m L V4\X&

(P

FRIDAY, OCTOBBRid, ii iiiii ii

T s t "f s P * 1 iv ' f ' • '

Shopping by Mall, satisfaction Benner & Begg Shop for the

advertised guaranteed

Ii "THE STORE ACCOMMOpATINQ" bargains ^

• . • • 1 ,

Dozens and Dozens of Money Saving Inducements

FOR TODAY k <"Y '

x X A*" S 3 *.

To the economical shopper—Today at this store means a day of special money saving values. Our bargain counters are crowded with dozens and dozens of spe­cial sale items for today's selling. Read every item over carefully, then come to the store and find them just as advertised.

Ladies' and Children's Underwear Today in our Bargain Basement we offer some remarkable UnJer«*ear vAlues; the entire assortment

Consists of Ave lots of wool ribbed, cotton ribbed and cotton fleece, in separate pieces and union suits.

IjOt Xo. 1—Values, up to 35c, at f Bo I Lot No. 3—Values up to $1.00, at »8c Lot No. 2—Values up to 50c, at 39c J i^ot No. 4—Values up to fl.60, at $1.19

Lot.No. K—Values up to $3.00, at 91.45

Ladies' new fall Coats $9.75 Visit our basement cloak Depsrtment and see our complete line of Ladles' New Pall Coats, In the very-newest styles and materials, in striped Zibalines, heavy mixture* etc., worth up to $18. Yo\ir choice at ••>75*

Ladies' Coats $5.00 One lot of ladies' Last Season's Coats in sercM, mix­tures, etc.; sll good weight garments, and with slight alterations can be made good as new.

. Bargain BasemeQt

MEN'S AXD BOYS' SWEATERS. As an extra special inducement

today, we offer you choice of one lot of Men's and Boys' high-neck Grey Coat Sweaters. Tour

- choice today at, each He Bargain Basement.

BOYS' SHOES. Boys' good solid leather school

Shoes'. In all sizes, 9H to 12, at $1.29; 12 to l at gl.48; 1 to 6

. at S1.69-—all very good values. Bargain Basement.

GIRL'S SHOES. One lot of Girl's Button Shoes,

with patent leather tips, sizes from 12 to 2. Your choice to­day at, per pair $1.69

Bargain Basement

LADIES'SHOES. L*dle*' Gun Metal Button and Viet . Kid, Lace Shoes In all slses,

worth up to $3.00. Your choice at, per pair 91.98

Bargain Basement.

CHILDREN'S DRESSES. One lot of Children's Gingham

Dresses; new materials and pat­terns; all sites from < to 14 years.- Your choice for to

91.19 Bargain Bagement.

OUTING. FLANNEL. One lot of ahort length outings,

regular 12 1-2 and lSe values, Special today only at, per VMd go

Mala Floor

run to his car munching as he went. But that night he said:

"It's worth coming clear out here just for the chance of a good night's rest. I saw somebody moving Into our flat as I went past this morning and I didn't envy them."

They had borrowed most of the money in order to pay Hewitt and borrowed money extorts heavy toll. Eliza found she must economize more than she had ever done. Though It was June they made a bit of garden planted with beets, onions, lettuce, and tomatoes. There was a corner for flowers, and this was turned over to Viva. She was taught how to spade, rake, hoe. The tiny flower garden be­came here great enthusiasm. She went to it eagerly in the morning and left it reluctantly at night.

Before the summer was over Viva had became very brown. Her dark hair was gently faded by the sun. The hollows In her little neck were not so striking. She ate and slept well. Eliza and Abel took hope once more. Be­fore the year was over both Abel and Eliza began to see that they too had changed as much as had the girl. They weighed more, they were strong-

Laugh With Us

A man of high social position was forced to stay over a couple of days in a small country town. Desiring to post some letters and not knowing where to And the postoffice, he said to a small boy gruffly, "Son, I want to go to the postoffice."

"All right, hurry back," said the boy soothingly.—Ltppincott's.

The late Mayor Gaynor of New York was talking to a group of Rus­sian" educators about the corrupt; vot­ing that has now been abolished in the metropolis.

"They tell a story," said the mayor, "a story of the past, about, a newly elected official who was holding .a re­ception on the evening of his victory.

Among the visitors was a red-fac. er. they took a keener interest in life" ^ * fur caP P«rched

and their views had broadened. Happiness, indeed, became of an Im­mensity for which there was no ac­counting when one day the doctor took a tape measure and smilingly as­certained Viva's chest development.

"I've lost my patient," he said. "Well, what are you going to do now ?"'

"I'm going back to school," Viva breathed. "And I'm going to be a teacher in botany."

So VlVa went back to school. She grew tall and round. She led her classes and presently she graduated.

The bungalow was paid for now and a bank account began slowly to ao cumulate again. Viva was going to normal. There was no reason longer for Eliza and Abel to stay in the bungalow. They could rent it to ad vantage. The little place on the sr<le hill doubled in value since . they bought it.

"No, the bungalow has given <us too much for us to forsake it," ssld- Eliza,

"It is home," Abel murmured, smoking and watching his garden jRrow.

"It's the dearest and best spot in the world," cried Viva. "I want it to come back to vacations." (

She put an arm around each and drew them close and kissed them.YThe future was full of dreams and' prom­ises for her. but It included them al­so. And with them the bungalow.

BEST VACATION TIME.

Real Trouble, However, is-Not Sea­son. But Brevity.

(From an Exchange.) "About this time," an almanachist

might remark, "look out for letters in the papers vaunting the superiority of autumns I vacations to those taiken during the heats of summer." Wheth­er he remarked it, or not, the on­looker would always And them, and, if a thoughtful person with much knowledge of human nature, he might proceed to propound the the­ory, or hypothesis .that every such let­ter is written by somebody who, hts vacation being past, wishse it wasn't.

Hence come, or at least very prob­ably may come, those fervid eulogies of fall ss the year's pleasantest sea­son—the season when, much more thSn in summer, life in the open ha* its rewards and joys, of course, the eulogies of autumn, are an true enough, but, just the same,, when next summer arrives everybody who can. will quit the city for the sake of avoiding work when It comes hardest to do.

We think more of present woes than of future pleasures, and while we all know that the country is at Its finest in autumn, we also all know that the city Isn't bad then, either, while It is very distinctly so in sum­mer.

The real trouble with vacations Is their brevity. Six months, or nine, would lie about the right length. Still better, perhaps, would be a vacation from Idleness of two weeks In the year devoted to toll, done just to make the other fifty appreciable by contrast. Probably most of us would love our work if it didn't take more of our time than that.

REJECT PETITION.

Mountrail Board of Commissioners Act on Pslermoo Bid.

Stanley, N. D., Oct. 10.—Last week the board of county commissioners re­jected the petition for the removal of the county seat from Stanley to Pal­ermo on account of the insufficiency of th* patltum.

"ii"

his left ear. "'Howdy, boss,' said the.fur cap. " 'My dear sir. good evening,' said

the official. 'And so you Were one of my supporters, eh?'

" 'One? Excuse me, boss. I was eight.'"

"I was going down the street the other day." the fellow said, "and I met a little boy crying. He was a miserable object and seemed to be suffering keenly. So I stopped and spoke to him.

"What's the matter, son?" says I. " 'A b-b-big boy hit me!" he sob­

bed. "Well, that's^ a shame. You tell me

who the big boy was and I'll give him a talking to that he won't forget."

" 'It was th' Simpklns boy,' an­swered the abused youngster, with a show of interest. 'He's down' there with all those other kids/

" 'Which one of that crowd is he?" " 'You kin tell easy enough- He's

the one with th' black- eye an' th' bloody nose, an' he's cryln', too!'"

Two Irishmen arranged to fight a duel with pistols. One of them was distinctly stout, and when he ssw his lean adversary facing him. he rais­ed an objection.

"Bedad," he aaid, "I'm twice as big a target as he Is, so I ought to stand twice ss far away from him as he is from me."

"Be aisy now," replied his second, I'll soon put that right."

Taking a piece of chalk from his pocket he drew two. lines down the stout man's coat, leaving space be­tween them.

"Now." he said, turning to the other man, "(Ire away, ye spalpeen, and remember that any hits outside that chalk line don't count."

A venerable white-haired clergyman of Newport had received many re­quests from young women for a lock of his hair. The clergyman, pleased at this expression of respect granted the request In each instance.

This continued for several days, but one morning his wife received a note which put an end to her husband's pleasant delusion, proving, aq it did, that, their motives were too practical and utterly devoid of sentiment. It ran:

"Dear Mrs. White; Won't you please ask your husband-to send me just a little lock of his hair? All of the girls here at the college have been taking lessons In making hair flowers, and so many of the girls have already asked him that I thought I would rather ask you. I do so hope you will do this for me. as It la almost impos­sible to get white hair sultabls for lilies of the valley."-—Harper's Maga­zine.

"I suppose you don't get much fog over here." remarked the smartly dressed young man who had been talking of London fogs.

"Wall," replied the old salt, "we do get a bit of fog now an' then. I mind last summer I was shingling that barn ye see over thar on the point. I had Just" used up what I had figured would do both sides of the roof, and was calculatin' to crawl back to the ladder when a fog lifted and I dropped plump Into the middle of the harbor. There I had gone and shingled 'bout a hundred feet of that blamed fog."—Woman's Home com­panion.

Donald was troubled with Indiges­tion, which made necesssry a eare-ful supervision of his diet. One night at dinner he asked for a second help­ing of dessert.

K "No, Donald," said his aunt; "Don't

Hoos' Hoo Today

(By John W. Carey.) Who'a done more stunts and

seen more life in isolated nooks any dashing hero he has

piped us in his books? Who sought for gold in Klondike land, and sailed the bounding main, and chased the seals In Bering sea, lest life should be inane. Who hiked the land from coast to coast and mingled with the 'bo's, and spieled for socialism as a cure ' for all our woes? * Who starched our collars and our cuffs and boiled our Sabbath shirts, and as J

a farmer now loomsup—a shark on fertile dirts? Who, there­fore, when he'd spring s taie. needs naught but this to do—to lift a chapter from, his life ? Jack London, E-8-Q. ,

GREAT DEMAND FOR GYPSUM.

Production in 1880 Was 90,000 Tons; Last Year It Was 4,500,000.

. An increase from only 90.000 tons In 1680, to more than 2,500,000 torn last year, has taHen place in the pro­duction of gypaum, a miners] princi-pally used in manufacturing plaster in the United States, according to Statistics by the geological survey.

The production laat year, which Wo.'oor1, wag vahwd at mor# th»

MU8/Q BAGS, METRONOMES,

MU8IO R0LL9 A new and complete

stock of neat and "Up-to-the-Minute" leather music bags, and everything for the music student.

Stone Piano oo. Everything Known in

I s ^ Music

Parr>

l.l ii

•i" rl

you, remember the last time you ate so much pudding how It made vo» dresm about Hons and bears and tl-

" w # n T a H « « ' » r t " o f „ a n i m a l s ? " "it careL h* whimpered, It made me dream that I had a great big gun there, too"—The Delineator

•£!it h,m UP «n the roof to paint it. That was early in the morning. Toward nightfall the boss clambered up the ladder to see wheth­er his workman had flown away or been eaten up by the birds. There was Jim sitting on the edge of the house singing.

"Jim. you lazy piece, what you been doinr?

"NufflnV' the^'oof?" send y°u "P here to paint

"Yasslr." "Well, did you do it?" "Yaislr." "What elsfe did you do: " "I went to sleep." "Why didn't you come down if you

had finished?" * " 'Deed. boss, you jes* said paint de

roof. You nevah said nuflln' "bout comin' down."

'• MP '• tV

"Ly » & ' ^ ;

4]

V

\

f> ,1V"

y