Match as a Fakir; or, The Pumpkinville County Fair — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

0 6 6 ‘About seven o’clock.”’ ane ~*~ +. would always remember his visit to this 10 fal event of his life.” “nis tickled all hands immensely, JT will slide over the breakfast, which was ban qT couldn't resist having a little fun during the at the table, and I did not intend to let the ok become mare for the rene of use. But all such things must have an end, and, fi i them {for their kindness, and promising to Mate ee jeft, first, however, bidding the gushing Clarissa a fond good-b yleading with her to keep my ghostly secret, and pronilaine goon to send her a delightful letter of twenty-odd pages, and r ld watch, as a memento of my meeting w; : Froature as herself. : 6 with such a charming “And you will remember me?” I sighed, “Yeou don t care ef I do,” she said, coquettishly, “Pll die of a broken heart if you don’t,’ I replied, fervid] “Oh, laws! I don’t want yeou ter du that.” re “But I will, unless you’ll promise.” ie wien seg ire oh come to take you out?” i dont go eout with other fellows,” she repli “Though I could hey a dozen ef I wanted Mee ae Satiarnh And she heaved a sigh that really shook the building. “Oh, Clarie!’’ “Charlie!” ‘You will remember me?” ‘‘Always!” ‘‘Never forget me?” ‘‘Never!” ‘Sure?’ ‘Sure as I’m alivin’!’’ “Say it.” “Say what?” ‘‘Say you'll never forget me.”’ ‘‘T’ll never forget yeou.”’ ‘‘Never?”’ ‘‘Never, never!”’ “Clarie, you’re a daisy, a buttercu,, and a hot-house tea-rose ombined,” I said. ‘‘In the words of my great-grandfather, Rip an Winkle, ‘may you live long and prosper.’ And health, vealth, and happiness be your portion. Good-by, farewell, so ong, see you later, ta-ta!’’ And I vamoosed. And wretch that I was, I forgot all about her immediately. But she didn’t pine away in consequence, Nary & pine. On the contrary, she married a rich commission merchant of Pumpkinville, and is to-day the happy mother of ten grown-up pple blossom farm sprouts. But the Pumpkinville County Fair is waiting, and I must \UITY ON. 5 Of course alf hour spent brilliancy of my CHAPTER XIIL FAKING. Pumpkinville County and its neighborhood had broken forth 2 all its glory. Crowds of country and city people were walking, running, iving, and pushing on to the fair, each determined to get his loney’s worth in time, if in nothing else. As I entered the gate I felt a fat hand on my shoulder, and irning, saw Jim, pale as death. . : ‘Hello, Jim! where in the dickens did you go to?” I ex- aimed. ‘Thank the stars you’re alive!” he ejaculated. “Alive?” I queried; ‘‘why shouldn’t I be? Where have you ben ?”’ ees you hung?” he ree ‘‘Hung? Jim, are you crazy?” ‘Now spouts off, Mitch: I Eno you were caught badly last ght. How did you escape?” ‘Jim, you’ve got ’em bad.” ‘No, I ain’t; you’ve got ’em, Match,” he replied, stoutly. ‘‘Now Jim, see here. When I went to sleep last night, y a sre alongside of me. When I woke up this morning bia ps ne. Why didn’t you stay to breakfast? Were you afraid o eadow would rake us up about that ghost story? im’s face was a regular Chinese puzzle. ray didn’t I s-stay to breakfast?” he faltered. "* Yes.” ‘“D-did you s-stay ?” ‘Why, Jim, do you suppose lout touching it?” ‘W-when did you g-get up?” I'd go off and leave a fine spread ; : farm as the most de-| “Oh, Lord!” he groaned. a Rt What’s the matter now ?” T asked, sympathetically. | slowly, “Oh, Jim, I didn’t think ‘I don’t believe in ’em.” ‘Yes, you do; i nN ay J you were afraid of the very ghost you helped “I ain’t afraid of ghosts, butI am of men who want you up in an apple orchard,” he groaned. ‘I’m sure I don’t understand you.” ‘‘W-when did you go t-to s-sleep?” ‘‘Why, when I came up with the bed-sheet, Jim; don’t ask such simple questions.” “Oh, Lord!” ‘Did you see any one, Jim?” ‘‘N-no, I-I guess not,” he replied, very slowly. ‘‘And why did you leave?” - “T-T had a bad dream, and wanted to walk it off,”’ he con- tinued, desperately. And then he switched-off on another subject, and refused to. say a single word about the previous night’s occurrences, In a quarter of an hour we had our stand open for business, ani then I must say Jim was in his element. The way he raked in the country people was a caution. He put me on my metal, and I sailed in, determined to outdo him in my sales, or throw my share of our goods away and go out of the business. ‘Say, Sally, just look here!” exclaimed a lank youth—a sample customer—as he edged up to our stand, ashort girl, with red hair, hanging on his arm. Sally looked. ‘‘What is it, Peter?” she asked. ‘“T dunno,” he replied. Neither did I, but I offered the following: “The genuine Japanese Handkerchief Perfume, ladies—the sweetest and most delicious scent in the world. Manufactured under the directions of the Emperor of Japan, and the only per- fume allowed by Queen Victoria in her royal palaces. One drop of it is as strong as an ounce of ordinary cologne, and will last till time shall be no more!” And as Sally had her handkerchief in her hand, I quickly reached over, secured it, put a few drops from our private bottle on it, and handed it back. ‘Oh, Peter, hain’t it jest scrumptious!” she cried. Peter gave it a sniff. “Tt is good, but-——”’ “One bottle be enough?” I asked, wrapping it up, and hand- ing it over to Sally. ‘‘How much is that?” faltered the youth. ‘One dollar, please.” ‘“‘A dollar!” groaned the youth. ‘‘An’ Lonly brung tew dollars ter spend all day! Reckon we can’t git no’dinner, and sit on the flyin’ horses an’ hey peanuts an’ popcorn, on that.” And with another groan he passed over the dollar and walked sadly away. ‘‘Har-oil? Let's see it,” said a way-backer. grease?’ ‘Far superior,’ I replied. ‘‘It was first introduced into this country by General Jackson. Know him?” ‘Wall, neow. yeow kin jist splutter ef I don’t, guess, ef he used it.”’ ‘He said it was the only thing fit to put on a man’s head,” I wenton. ‘Madea statement to that effect in writing, which I now have in my pocket.”’ 4ir “Orickety! Old Andy Jackson’s own writin’?” ‘Yes, sir, indorsing this hair-oil as the best.”’ ‘“‘T’d like ter see——” “Of course we don’t show the recommendation to every one, because handling would wear it out, and to us it is worth more n its weight in gold.” ver eeokon: it is. e But darn my suspenders ef I wouldn't like ter see the old man’s hand. I can’t read, but——” ‘Well, you shall see it,” I replied. ‘I know you will appre- ciate the perreeeey “So I will.” . I aah out an old letter and let the way-backer inspect it. He squinted it over, ee it upside down, looked through if, : nded it back. ‘ ge oth ha abliged,” he said. “It’s wuth ‘more’n the hull fair, darn ef it hain’t. The old man’s writin’—never thunk I'd live ter see it.”’ 6 ise ge és se you want a bottle of the ou. : eI Laie euess! Du yeouthink I'd go back on him? Why, I'm votin’ fer him yit. See hgre!” He took off his hat. “I you believed in ghosts!” I cried. to hang ‘*Ts it as good as Darn good, I ‘““D-did you see anybody in o-our r-room last night?” he asked, bs if se CS -comicboo ~~ ¥ J, x ad ry Be ly dl