A BID FOR FAME

Evening Star, Issue 16351, 17 February 1917, Page 3

A BID FOR FAME

[By J. ,T. Belt,.]

*'Hey! Hold on A cried tho apprentice fo sharplv -that Mr Redhorn dropped his brush and all but fell from the Inkier. Recovering his balance, the printer, with natural enough Irritation, but unwonted asperity, exclaimed: “What the mischief did yo yod like that lor, laddie? I might ha.'o broke ina neck." °

“ I couklna help yellin’ when I s?o vc was for puttin' the' wrong color on the cornice."

“Tho wrong color’.” Mr Redhorn looked down at the pot in Ida left hand, toe pot wiln which he had mounted the Judder a minute previously. “ Crifteas he muttered, ami proceeded to descend cautiously to tho floor.

Arrived there, lie sot down the paintpot, and polcm.-.lv presented his apprentice with his hand.

YYulhe,” he said to tho astonished youth, “if ye risk ma neck, yo saved inn reputation. What would Mistress Carver ha o said if ] had put sky-hlne, where she. ordered sawinou-pink? Thank vc, laddie —thank ve!”

“ Aw, it was naething,” muttered Willie. “ I j:st- didna want to see yc mak' a cod o’ yersd'. A’ the same, I -dinna think yo, could brink yor neck failin’ that wee height.”

” The human neck,” said Mr Redhorn seriously, “ is easier broken nor ve seem lo think, ma lad, and I never wa? skilled at, the acrobatics. I never yet tell wi'oor, Irartin’ maser, and behnldin’, a.;, a rule, a Eupcraburulanc;' o’ stars. At tho same time, as previously observed. I’m grateful to ye for stayin' ma hand afore i.t could male' a false step, as it were." 1 hiring these remarks Willie had lifted » pot. and now ho offered it to his cm [foyer. “ Here’s the sawmon-piuk. Maister Be!horn, and I’ll whisper tho next time instead o’ yellin'.” But. Y!r Red horn shook his head, and motioned the pot away, saying: “ Na, Vriillie. Til leave tho cornice till the morn’s mornin’, and meantime I'll help ve wi’ ihe skirtin' heard.” .Ho consulted his watch. “ Five oh leek. Ay ! we’ll manage to finish the skirtin’ board afore ire knock off.” “ Are yo —are yo feared to gang up the ladder again ” the boy inquired. “ I am that." tho painter replied with I sigh. “But it’s ma reputation mair nor ma neck that I’m feared for. Tho truth 1?. I’m no’ in the humor for performin’ delicate operations.’’ ‘He hesitated for a moment. “Maybe yc’vo noticed that sometiling has been preyin’ on ma mind tho day, eh?" “Is it yer dyspepsia .again?" “ I said ma mind, laddie. Maybe I Jhould ha’e said ma inlellccV’ “ Ye've got mo there," said Willie. “Ye ha’ena noticed ony thing?'' Willie shook his head. “ Has Hanks, the fishmonger, been teasin’ yo again?” he inquired, as with an afterthought.. “Na; it’s no’ Hanks this time, thou mb I darcr-ay it’ll no’ be long afore he’ll be wantin' his revenge.” “ Revenge?” “Ay! For. ye see, I got the better o' him last nicht—and noo I wish 1 hadna. But this’ll no' dae. Time's money to Miss Carvey, as weel as to Joseph 'Redliorn. Get to work on the skirtin’ board, laddie." For three minutes they painted diligently and in silence, "hen Willie's curiosity trot the better of him.

“ Wha did ye dao to Banks last nicbt?” he. casually inquired. “ Xa, na; pay attention to yer job," said Mr Redhorn, not very firmly, however. As a matter of lact, lie. was longing to confide in the only confidant he possessed.

Willies e<ars detected the weakness in the command. “Come on; tell ns, Maister Redhorn, ho said softly, persuasively, "What did ye dae to Banks “ Xaething' directly, but I could see he left the mect-in’ in a hull.’’ " W : hat ineetin’?”

“Ray attention to yer job.” Mr Itedhoni dipped his brush, made a few strokes ■with it, gently scratched tho tip of his nose with the point of the- handle, and continued : “ I suppose ye’re aware that Samuel .M’Tavish, the Fairport policeman —or constable, as ho prefers to be. designated—has got'promotion to the city?’’° “Ay! he’ll maybe get quit o’ some o’ ais fat there. He’s liter a hippapotamus aor a man— ”

“ Whist, laddie! Dinna speak evil o’ the departed—or, at ony rate, the aboot-lo-be-doparted. For a man that’s had sao little to dao for ten year, Samuel’s no’ a had chap. Ony way, it has been decided to compliment him wi’ a presentation afore he departs, this day week, A c.ommytco •was formed some time back in gather funds, etceetera. The presentation will consist o a purse o’ twintv-wan sovereigns in gold——” " 6 “Gor!”

and a clock, for he’s gottin’ mar riecl shortly.”

“ My ! it’s fine to bo a slop!” “That’s an awfu’ unseemly word, Wullie. A poiisroan’s is an honorable profession, though it involves mair boots nor brains, An Ivo nae doot Samncl’ll need to use. his held for a’ it’s worth when ho gets to the city.”

“But what‘aboot Banks? Would he no put onything in the purse?" “Uh, Banks subscribed his share. Gi’e the man credit for that. But tho meetin’ last nicht wasna entirely feenancial. In fac’, the chief business was to choose tho party that would mak’ the presentation, likewise a speech. That was where the trouble commenced, Wullie. They didna choose Banks.” “ \V ha did they choose ?” “Me,” said tho painter sadly. “Three votes to twa against Banks. And noo I wish it had been the other way. But I was kin’ o’ elevated hist nicht.” * “Eh?” Willie regarded his employer with increased interest. “I’m savin’.! was kin’ o’ elevated. Yo see, the meetin’ was in ma hooso, and I felt it ma duty to stan’ the cnmp’ny a bottle o’ ginger wine; and what wi’ the fumes o’ tho wine, as the poets say, and the popular acclamations, I lost ma held for the time bein’, and consented to male’ the presentation on Thursday, the third prox.” “ When?” “This day week, a’ but a day. And noo I'm sorry.” “But ye can draw back yet, and lot Banks get the job.” “A Kidhom never draws back,” said the painter, adding under his breath, especially when there's a Banks in the field.” “is the polisman to got his purse and clock in a field?” inquired Willio. “fits, laddie! 1 was speakin’ metaphorically. Tho ceremonv’ll tak’ place in the hall, and a’ Fairporfil be there. And as sure as death, I’ll mak’ a cod o’ masel’’ and bo the langhin -stock o’ Fairport, Banks included. Awed, let it be a lesson to you, laddie. See that ye never let yer vanity get the, better o’ yer sober judgment. i urn a deaf ear to popular applause, and avoid ”

“1 wouldna drink ginger wine if I was payed for’t,” said Willie. . “But I’m sure,” he added kindly, “y C can mak’ as guid a speech as ony man in Fairport, Maister Kidhom.”

“On paper, Wullie, on paper—or, at Dny rate, on the taibiets o’ ma imagination,” said Mr Eecihorn, modestly. “That was another metaphor, ye would observe. Oh, I wouldna shrink if it was merely a case o’ compossetion ; in fac’. I think I may say wi’oot ostentation he smacked his lips slightly over the word—“ that, barrin’ the moenister, I could beat ony man in Fairport and the vicinity at the game.”

My 1 ye re a demon for fancy words t| -Mr Bedhorn let the compliment pass. ■But,” ho went on sadly, “when it cornea to gi om’ an oral demonstration o’ ma oratorical abilities ” “ Mb?”

Weel, when it comes to openin’ ma mooth tor to emit the fruits 0’ ma lucubrations ”

Unfortunately at this point Willie permitted himself to snigger, and although die blew his nose almost simultaneously, Keel horn’s suspicion was touched. “ “Pay attention to yer job,” said the painter, “and we’ll work till ten minutes past the hour the nicht.”

But I’ve got a footba’ match on the nicht.”

“In that ease wa'll start ten minutes cm tier Uu; moms morn in’. Noo proceed. -Beep yer brush busy and gi'e yer tongue a rest. Allied was rather unjust of Mr Rodbom, ooiisiaurir.g that lie liad been doing the moss ol ilm. talking. Ho sought to nuiKo up- .or ius sharpness by inviting the boy to lea, and was iiunestly disappointed when \> uiio, iviio wire no ill-will, reminded him of the footuall match. “ I—-r uss ilnnkm' ye might care to gi'e me a iian-a wh tin speech,” he said uiii.dently, ns Uiey were audit to part. "Uu, woe l . 11l seo if Jl’ve tune;’ said Wilho oa'eiscsiy. it. I’i spile- of his bravo word*. Mr Redhot,i ,u.-vove;vd that oven mere “o:m----pii.-Aviijii was not lightly to be achieved, .it c od Millie foiuivi in.:: groaning over c. table inl-reu wu-h scraps of paper and eigaioiio asu.

"iia'c yo no had yer tea yet?" the apprentice inquired, alter a glance round the

Mr Kcmiioru shook his head, j "I lou many oOvgareltcs ha’e yo smoked';"

Hear knows, the painter wearily replied. "1 thought they would ma-vbo stimulate ma- brain ’

"It ye would .smoke guid ceogarettes instead of tlu'.-t rotten sort- "

“ I vo tell t yc a-iore, f canna afford to be a. comiK -.'-wer. ’ Mr Hodnuru passt-d his hand over his almost bald scalp*. " Js yer livid luirtin’ yo?" "An jisl exactly hurt-in’ mo, but I'm hegtnnin' to uiuierstan’ why so many o’ the great,.-st thinkers end their days in the nuulhonsc. lie groaned, dippe-a b.is pm and brought from the depths ul the inkpot a blob of ncdiuieiit. "That-,'’ he slid icgarding it biturly, "is wiiat happens eveiy time I'm seized wi' an aspirnli m." Willie, having passed to tho ma-iikdpieco. missed the significance, of the ] ;teS remark! He now I'cl-unied t-aiiying a huge bottle oi medicinal apps-iiraiice.

Ve better oi ink a dose o' the Elixir Maister liidliorn." ’

ills, laddie. I've nac dyr-pcepsia tho noo. Ma trouble is memal—intellectual." "Ah' that brings on the dyspeopsia later —ye've udl't me often."

line. And, ony way, ao wiser men nor mo iiu-iviuTij j.uwtmcioii is letter nor cure. Gi eme the hoc-tie.” Uncovkinv * t - ’•R°k a goodly pull, much to the era,..ligation of \\ illio, who n-.-ver tired nt seeing his employer taking physic. "Aw, laddie, that's a • terrible taste. Tak' it awa'l I've been absorbin’ that Elixir for nine yeais. but if 1 was livin’ to be a I mndred, 1 doobt I Avouldna get to like

" But it’s guid for yo,” said Willie, returning the bottle to the mantelshelf. "I think I'll put- the kettle on to biie, and yo’ll get a cup o’ tea, oh?" Yore a- thoughttul laddie,” the painter returned gratefully, cleaning his pu and preparing to resume his task.

Prooentiy Yv’illie, having mended the fire, which had burned low, rejoined him. "Ilqo arc ye gettiu’ on, Maister Rid. horn-?"

Ylr Redhorn sighed. “M a brain feck bursiiiT wi' ideas, but as sure as I startto write them down- -feugh 1 they're awa' I” " Ha. e ye n ie notion o' what ye’ie gaun to sav?”

"Oh. I ken fine what I want to say.” said the politer a trifle sharply. "The deefficulty is to command ma. ideas, as it 'M-re. think the best way ’ll he to begin wi‘ a synopsis ■’ " W hat’s that ” ‘ Latin. lc II see what it means immediately."

Mr Had horn laid a fresh scrap of paper before him and cautiously dipped his pen. “ h’. or instance, w e’ll iui’e to speak o’ the rolismau’s connection wi’ Fairport. and the d"' TCal, resjxic’ and esteem he c-n- ---’’ Xo’ frac me, Maisuor Ridhorn.”

*’ Whisht,, laddie! When a prominent man is leavin’ the community for ony place oxcep/ tho jail, it’s usual to mention respec and esteem. Then.’’ the phiinter continued. “ wo would need to refer to the absence o’ serious crime- dnrin’ Ids residence here, t cannot deny that ma remarks would he niair pungent if he had naboed a burglar, or detected a homicide, or pertormed a brave deed o’ some description——”

_" He once got a motorist fined—and dye mind wlieu ho was lor arresting a photographer for ” Oh. we’ll no’ refer to these incidents. Wo'll jist .say he did his duty. And then well congratulate him on his promotion to a wider sphere, which is tempered wi unspeakable grief to think that his feet will never (n.vd tread these hospitable shore# again. 1 hat’s the synopsis,” Mr Red horn concluded, with a'wave, of his pen and a long breath. ■‘My! ye re a demon at speeches!” cried Willie, in honest admiration.

"-Ma mother aye wanted me to be a mecuistor,” said the gratified painter; but, modestly, “ I couklna think to soar that high. Still, I’m glad ye approve o’ the synopsis, Wullie, which, ye must understan , is merely the entrails o’ the observations at present seethin’ in ma brain. If 1 can j;?t manage to get a tenth part o ma thoughts on to paper, and a tenth part o the result oot o’ ma mooth, I promise ye Til gi© Fairport something to talk aboot for a month—or at least a week. I confess, laddie, yer kind words ba’o filled mo wi’ now enthusiasm, and I 11 proceed wi’ ma task Wi hope. And noo I liear tlie kettle siiigin’, so we’ll get oot the dishes preparatory to enjoyin’ a dish o’ tea.” •Slukes me, said W uhe, ” vc’ro focliiv the better of the Elixir.” “I’ll no’ deny it,” returned Mr Redhorn, rising briskly; “nor will 1 deny that I feel at this blessed minute like a young lion—or an ostrich—l mean to say an oagio which has renewed its youth.” W lion Vv line had recovered from a severe fit of coughing, ho said ; “ Maister Eidfiorn-—” and halted. “ What is it, laddie?” “\\ hat think I was nearin’ the nicht: [ was for tollin' ve suner, but I forgot.” from the cupboard where ho kept his provisions Mr Red horn had taken a plate of butter. “What did ye hoar?” he asked fearfully, and Laid the plate of butter on the dresser. “There a reporter frae the ‘Greenhill Herald comm to the polisman’s meet in’ noxi. week.” “A reporter? Groat goodness!” He s sumo relation o’ the polisman’s. I suppose ho’l! be writin’ doon yer -speech for the paper, Maister Ridhorn.” For several seconds Mr Red horn remained absolutely motionless. Then ho strode noiselessly to the door and turned the key. Then he walked over to the hearth, and stood thy re for a moment or two gently rubbing his long nose. Then ho stopped firmly across to the dresser half-turnon, and faced his starinc* apprentice. ° 1 1 . “ this.” he said, with emotion, raisimr hm clenched, fist, “if this isna fame Wuliio, it-—its <1 ashc-d near it’" Tho clenched fist fell with a. muffled thump “Oh, the butter!” yelled Willie. 111. The prospect of benolding his speech in print was as a spur to Mr Rcdhorn’s flagging ambition and faltering selfconfidence. Yet a spur means pain no leas than encouragement, and the painter a sufferings during the next five days, and nights—are bettor not described here.

It was about 9 o’clock on the fifth evening that Mr Eedhorn made the announcement to Willie, who had several times fallen asleep in the oasv-chair, on tho completion of the great work. “Gor!” said Willis, sit,tine up. “ Xoo in tho first place,'’ Raid the author. is ycr mother aware that here the nicht?”

“-Vy.” , g'econdly, will she he alarmed if vote no hame afore nine-thirty?”

“AW’ her!” was tho prompt irmly. Then, sn:d Mr Red horn, “'seein - I ve cot to gang to Glosca. the mom to settle quarterly accounts, etcetera., ] think T best road ye the speech noo. Accordin’ to_ me calculation, it’ll tak forty odd minutes to deliver, and ’’ ‘‘ H t ol y,!” the hoy exclaimed involuntarily.

Mr Red horn permitted himself to smile “Yer remark;” he said, “suggests to me". Wullie, that I’ve .com nosed a "sermon ; and I may say I’m not wantin’ in hope that ma speech contains sundry moral reflections. At tho same time, it is aboundin’,

mair or, less, in humor and innocent pleasantries. Moreover, it is rich in. poetry. The poetry, hooevear, is unoriginal.” “is it V*

But, on the Whole, appropriate. A wool, I’ll begin—and if there’s ony thing ye dinna undorstnn’, kindly preserve iu° qtiines till 1 come to ‘ finis.’ ” “Could I get a drink o’ water first?” the apprentice asked, with some diffidence.

" Mercy, laddie, 1 clean forgot to inform ye o’ the presence in thonder press o a bottle o’. Iceiiionado, specially purchased for yer aiti consumption. * Help yerscl’ quick ; but try no’ to let the gas ttot the better o’ ye durin’ ma recital. I doubt I'll ha’e trouble enough tryin’ to road ma ain deplorable penmanship, wi’oot ony exterior interruptions.” A minute later, tumbler in hand, Willie settled himself to listen. Ho had, during the past, few days, hearkened to endless quotations from his employer’s “notes.” so that he did not expect to be vastly entertained. Nevertheless—so long, at least, as his refreshment lasted—ho gave his best attention to die somewhat stumbling “ recital. ’ And lie sometimes managed to laugh or look grave at the right moment. Mr Ibid horn never raised his eyes from the pages except to rub them, vviiilc ho mildly cursed his own bad wriliiv.

At a quarter to 10 tho bulky man use it pi. fell £iv,ni the Jingoes of tiic exhausted maker th.ereof.

“Splendid!'’ cried Willie. “Splendid ! ’ He really could not think of anything else to say, lie had long since decided not to ask any questions? “1 diiun think onybocly T! deny,’’ said Mr Redhorn, wiping hi/ streaming forehead, “ that, it's a speech.'’ 11l knock the face off onyhmlv that docs,” the apprentice declared! \e re loyal, laddie, ye're loyal ! But, between you and me. I’m thinkuv it’s no’ see tract—eh?”

“It’s splendid:'’ said Willie, cliccking a vn-v.n.

I. jist wish 1 hadna to ca iv to Olesca the morn. | would like fine if there had boon time tn mak’ a fresh copy o (ho speech. I’m feared I’ll Higgle at some <>' the words that I’ve altered, and lo>.-- ma held. Mr Redborn began to look gloomy. ° Willie had been given a holiday on the morrow, and had planned to go fishing. But something compelled him to sayh “If ye like, I’ll copy it not for ve, Maister Ridhorn, and 'ha’o it ready for ye when ye come hame at sax o’clock.” Wbnt! Ye would dae that for me, Wullie' Deed, it would mak’ a’ the difference in the world to me—and vc're a grand writer, I ken.”

“Ay. Til dae it." said tho bov, almost regretting his offer.

“Wee!,’’ the painter said, “it’ll be a benefit that’ll never Ik> forgot. I'll bring yo the manuscript and a supply o’ paper, etcetera._ afore 1 yang for the oarlv boat! so as ye'll no’ yer long lie. I dinna kcr w hat to say to ye. laddie, but I'm grateful. And noo I'm feared ver mother’ll be anxious.”

hen, on the following evening. Mr Rechorn stepped across the gangway he vva„s not surprised to see a strange policeman on the. pier, for ho was aware that the man had been in Fairport for several aays, learning his way about under the guidance of .Samuel M’Tavish. But he was surprised—nay, stricken with astonishment when the picrrnaster, receiving his toll, remarked : “We missed ve badly the day, Ridhorn/*

Eh . exclaimed the painter, staring, then, assuming {hat ho was being chaffed, no gave a good-humored laugh.' “Weal! t hope the. rest o' Fairport has surviv'd my aosencc ns wed as you appear to ha’ done, Ta

“But, it was a pity ye left wi’ the early boat.” the other said, seriously; lor tao news arrived at 8 o’clock—-'as siine as the telegraph wire was open.” Wh—v; hat news '’ ’ “ I suppose I best tel! ye the truth,” the piermastor replied reluctantly, for he was a sympathetic soul. “ Samuel M’Taviku got a-wire frae heidquarters commanr.in him to report hissed’ at the fdesca office first thing the morn’s morning >.o he gaed off wi’ the aftennmo boat. A great pity ye wasna here/’ Mr Redhorn cleared his throat. “ Bae ye, mean to say the polisman has left w. oot receivin’ Ids presentation''” he stammered.

„„ 0 w E ot Iliq r r e ? ontation right enough. Banks seen to that Banks made the commytec call a public meet in’ :or twa oejock The folk turned not V'cel; fn fac the hall war. packed. Banks put hissol m (he chair, ami made the presentation, and a . speech forhve.” Banks made a speech?” it ’VVn*’ v,aqna ' vort h a damn, but I thought it was best to tell ve. Rirlhorn ” i rwre was a short pause." during which ■ho painter appeared to swallow ?0mo-:-rm‘ M h ° a f siU(l * Ulit!i ' v l,nt Pont I\' ; nidh'”' >bk ''° C U> • VO ’ T;lmn!:lq - Onid

Ho made for his bachelor a Unde avoidimr several neighbors who would' have spo.Ton wu-h him. He could „nt, however avoid passing the fish shop. i„ the doenvavor hj Inch Dames, literally swollen with importance, was standing with some of ins erome*.

W Itn a great effort the painter raised his head and murmured "Fine nicht!" though fashion 111 "' aS dnzzlillff in melancholy

Ono of the cronies answered affahiv enongh, but the others sniggered and the fishmonger broke out with a «arc-stic cackle, which followed Mr E.-dbc-T to uin door.

He had left the key with his apprentice whom he expected to find awaiting him at the fireside. But the door was locked and no answer came to his knocking until a neighbor appeared with the kev and the explanation that the bov had left it j n her charge some hours previously. Mr Red horn entered, to find tin fire out and neither message nor manuscript from his apprentice Ho threw himself i„to the shabby easy chair. • I '^ r °, n . ' V^l,lli « 'll he laughin’ at me,” he sighed (utterly.

Threatening# of a cold in the head presently caused him to relight the lire and mak° a cup of tea. Ho' look a dr?., ortho Elixir, too, possibly for the simple raison fiat it was extremely nnstv ihereafter he settled down to 1 rrwd and perhaps wrathfullv. on the perfidy of the Glasgow police authorities th© triumph of Banks, the aniureme llt n T his neighbors, liis own fatal conceit that had led to his dignity’s downfall, and, last but not L^aot, tlio joujidi hj \ must surely cut in the eves of his apnrentice.

Hine o’clock arrived, and the pour, struggling hope in at, in spite of all ’Willie might turn nn with a word of ovmpathv. died out. And a? lie once more called himself an old fool, a knock fell on the door, and a voice called Giforfullv • ‘‘lt’s mo—Wullie !"

A moment later he was admittM-dri taping, mud-bespa timed. ‘‘Laddie, laddie, re're drool; it! Ganv over to the fire. I'll h:i.‘e th« ket.l" t in nae time, and ye'll drink 3. <.lr« s 'V,’ ginger wiuo~hot-—whethf.r ve tike it or no'. Man. I'm pieced to W e -o '" Yet even as he uttered the last wntenc- Mr Red horn’s heart flopped nnw more {n the depths. “I suppose ye gaed to the fishiid after a’,” he, .said, trying not to rp-ak coldly. “Weel, I suppose it was the ],e[ thing ye could line d ine in the circumstances."

“ Fishin’!” cried Willie, watch im? th-» bteam rising from his garments. “I was busy wi’ yer speech till 1 .va o'clock. An ai\ fu lot o writm , yon ! I 1 1ad to rot- rna. mother lo the a. sharp"

“But—but. oh, laddie, did ve no' ken that the poiisman got a wire, and ” ‘‘Fine! But T thought it would be a pity to waste the. fpeech ” “But it was wanted afore ye started to copy

Wiilio laughed and shook his head. “_Na; it's no’ wasted. T bad it ready in time for the. meetin*. but, of course,* tho reporter didna come the day. and ’so I logged it tn Gri-enhill.” “ frveanhill?”

“I thought T would gang and see tho mnt that has the weekly paper there. T was jist- in time, for it cnincs out the morn. Ho cannot print a’ ycr speech, hut he's gaun to gi’e ye a. column, he «ivs —” “ A column ! Laddie, are ye 'tollin’ mo a whole column o’ ma speech is to be printed?”

“ Jist that. Tho paper man said it was I (splendid!” Willie may bo forgiven his suppression of the fact that the editor had muttered something like “screamingly ■ funny,” and choken a dozen times in the j course of the manuscript's perusal. I Mr Red,horn sat slowly down, his hand j to his head. “ And ye’ve walked 16 mile i in this weather to due that for me! Oh, Wullio, but ye’re loyal!" “It was a pity to waste, it. Ye've buret Hanks this time, oh?”

“Criftens!” cried the painter. “I had clean forgotten aboot Hanks. He—he'll be furious. I hope ye explained to Ihe paper man that Hanks was in the chair.”

“ Oh, the paper man's gaun to put in the paper that Hanks said a few words,” said Willie carelessly. “Hanks canna speak for nuts, I heard him. It was like a moose squeakin'. Gor 1 I would like to see his face when -he gets the paper the mam s nicht. The paper man's garni to send yo a dizzen copies free." Just, then the kettle boiled over, and Milled horn, curbing his excitement, hastened to concoct, the hot drink for his guest. “ Heed. I think I’ll l a’o one niasd’,” he said suddenly ; “ for if this isna fame, it’s dashed——" lie paused. “It’s kin’ o’ rough on Hanks, too," be. muttered thoughtfully. "Weel, weel, as ye grow aulder. V\ ullie, ye’ll learn that every f!v has its ointment."