THE STORYTELLER

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIX, Issue 234, 30 September 1908, Page 6

THE STORYTELLER

A DREADFUL WOMAN. "That woman next door is really dretd. foi, John," said a young married woman to her husband. "She does nothing but talk the whole day long. She cannot get any work done, I'm sure." . "Oh," remarked the husband, "I thought she was a chatterbox. And to whom does she talk?" "Why, my dear, of course," was th« reply. talks to mc over the fence. 1 * —"Philadelphia Ledger."

MRS. MARK. TAPLET.

Philosophy, says Jerome K. Jerome, is the art of bearing other people's troutx les. The truest philosopher 1 his evet heard of was a woman. She was brought into the London Hospital suffer., ing from a poisoned leg. The house gar. geon made a hurried examination. . Hewas a man of blunt speech. "It wiU have to come off," he told her. "What, not all of it?" "The whole of it, I'm sorry to say," growled the house gm*. geon. "Nothing else for it?" "No other chance for you whatever," ex« plained the house surgeon..,: "Ah, -wellj thank Gawd It'sonot my .

THEIR ONLY QUARREII'

"Did you ever quarrel with your Trifcj Binks?" "Only once." I "Only oncel Gee! Yon are a lnckj; man." "Oh it wasn't luck. I merely fotmi out then that it wasn't worth while." "Aha! Had to let her have her wiy, eh!" ' , * "No; it wasn't that. She didn't haw her way." "Oh, I see! You won out, g«nd fcUj like a brute afterwards." "Nope. I didn't win out.". "Well, how the dickens" ' "Why, it was thin way. You see, d» wanted to name the baby Thomas, after • mc, and I wanted to name it Williaa, After her father, who was a dead gMW old sport if there ever was one. ;We had an argument lasting two whole months, and while she wept I was firm; she was adamant even in her tears, ani I wasn't to be moved by heaven orearti. And then—well, then, yon see, the baby, was born." "And then, of course, you each wanted to give in to the other, and found yourselves still on opposing sides." "No. The baby was a girl."

THE ENTHUSIAST. j

I remember the morning when we Hit* met, and he told mc about it. . His step was light and springy. H» coloud was good. His eye was bright. "Yes," he said in answer to my. i* quiry, "we are getting ready to go on on* holiday." "Have you arranged ■" "I'm just doing that now. Have giv« up the day to it." Later I met him again. "Not off yet?" I asked. "Not yet It takes a little time to «* just things. There's quite a lot to io. But," he continued brightly, "if all $? well, we shaU be started by the taM the week, Tuesday at the very late". The next day I ran across him in V» bank. He apologized for running m™ mc. "Somewhat of a rush," he said. W. had to fix up a lot of odds and endsget my book balanced, and lay out certain schedules " . "That's all right," I said sympalbetieallv. "I understand. You are —*.-i '"•Getting along nicely," he mntte ?~! ' with a slightly tired voice, as he rosM* away. Two days passed. Suddenly I r»a across him in the post office. Hei carried a bundle of mail. He dragged ow foot feebly after the other. < "Still at it?" I asked. "Still getting ready for that holiday?" - "Yes," he whispered. "Say! Maybe i haven't been working like a slave, n glanced at his watch. "Must hurry to meet my wife. She wants mc to help »«r pick out some clothes. And mc up 1 my ears!" „ I "Haven't got things fixed up ye" I "No! No! But I hope to by MonM£ I Been working every night for a w *' But maybe we won't have a good W" when we get off! The thought of it » . all that keeps mc alive." . .» I He shuffled away. Could this decrep* » creature be the sprightly one of . ago? Days passed. A week.later i » a him again. He looked better. He w» walking slow. , -graM "Hello!" I cried. "I thought you »«» 7 going on that vacation." 9* "I was, but " midt^ "You don't mean to say that you ga^j, it up?" m He nodded. doctor!; "I had to," he replied. The v «j. said that in my condition, » "J*"'' to got away from l ,on^L £ MflggflK