Judge — July 26, 1919 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ae 4 Denes by NW. Waren “Never More” later visit Emmy Benham at her cottage. I may stay over night.” “But how will you let me know if you decide to stay?” he asked. “I know of no way. You will send the launch over to the shore in the morning for me “Of course. All right, dear.” So they went ashore, had dinner, and danced. Was Mrs. Kensing intuitive as to possibilities? As it hap- pened, while she was looking for Miss Benham, who had promised to be at the hotel to confirm the next eve- ning s engagement, she heard Kensing’s voice with another's. They were screened by a great palm. His companion was Mrs. Dudley. They were sitting out a nee. “Mrs. Kensing has an er t to-morrow eve- ning way up the Sound,” he ying. “IT shall come over here with her. We can dance a bit—you and I— d then I shall be opy to show you my houseboat if you like.” geme as sa must be ac arming place to spend an hour or two in the even she repl Mrs. Kensing had heard enough. But when she and Kensing returned to the boat late that night she Was as sweet tempered as usual.“ goit g to-morrow night tak remain ashore lor me over?” she asked. “Oh, I shall amuse myself awhile and return to the island in good time When they went ashore the next evening Mrs. Ken- sing tarried a moment at the launch. “Mr. Kensing will have a guest or two this evening,” she said to the skipper am going up the Sound to the Club. When you have taken them to the houseboat please come up to the Club with the launch and await my order there.” With the skipper her word was law Mrs. Kensing went to the Sound Club, several miles away, by auto. After din | ner there she located the launch, with her friend, Miss Benham, and they went to the latter's cottage in it. Here she ordered the skip- per to ren morning to take her back to the houseboat It was quite voyage, but Mrs. Kensing was up with the birds. The launch hove to at the houseboat at six o'clock a.m. It was a chilly hour. Early as it was, she saw on the houseboat deck a moody and sullen husband and a nervous, wilted-looking woman in last evening's costume. They were pacing about separately. Kensing did not deign to help Mrs. Kensing at the ugway, but she didn’t mind. ‘Did you need the launch, dear?” she asked, smiling at him. “Stupid of me to send it up the Sound!” And then she turned with the same bland smile to Mrs. Dudley with: “Of course you'll stay to breakfast with us!” The Usual Way By Tou P. Morcax PEOPLE make a good deal of fun of old Riley Rezzidew,” admitted the landlord of the Petunia tavern, “but I sometimes think he is as public spirited as some of the rest of us who consider ourselves ¢ istly more importance to the community than we admit he is. His specialty is hopping out day or night when the fire alarm sounds, and racking off to the holocaust and yelling criticisms and advice to the firemen, and then when the fire fiend has finally been scotched, going home all tuck- cred out but by the con sciousness that he has ¢ done his whole duty Of course he never t a drop of water and takes no ac tion toward extin guishing the blaze except. to prance and howl, but how many of the rest of us do anything fe the up-building of our town or to prevent its decay save to loudly declare that something 4 < must be done, and roar Wi 9 \ ibout the —moss-grown 4 other then, when procrastinatios people, ani any public improvement that will increase our taxes dollar and forty-three cents against / it in solid’phalanx, as it were’ Just about one-half of one per cent., I reckon.” a year comes up, vo Such a Business “The postmaster-general boasts that postal receipts have increased ten per cent. since the first of the year.” “Why Shouldn't they increase with everybody writing to inquire why they have received no replies to letters that never were delivered?” Easily Remedied Pessimist—I have only one friend carth—my dog. Optimist—Why don't you get another Dowen by Dosatn McKie comicbooks.com