Puck — July 9, 1879 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER XIII. ++ jealous tongue can poison truth.” «Hell bath no fary ike woman scorned.” Next morning when the household assembled at breakfast it was uncomfortably evident that an air of restraint and a sense of something dis- agreeable had fallen on the company, Even the vivacious Count and the equally irre- pressible Doctor felt ill at ease, and all their efforts at hilarity failed to drive away the general gloom. Gleninver himself, usually so unimpressible, felt a vague spirit of depression settle upon him, for which he vainly tried to account, in his d ir at finding a solution laying the blame on the atmosphere. Light- hearted Effie herself was quiet as a mouse, and Mrs. Macdonald looked distrait and absent- minded. It seemed to be felt instinctively that some- thing was wrong, though what it was only a few could tell. Yet the scene between Archie and Macleod of the evening before had not leaked out—at least so the parties concerned fondly ho) So it was with a feeling of general relief that every one rose from the table after an unusually brief breakfast, and hurried away —the Doctor and Count to enjoy a smoke and a game at billiards, and Archie to stroll along the beach. As for the girls, they retired to their respective rooms, to plan arrangements for the day, while Alister and Macleod went off on a visit to the old boatman to get things ready for the proposed shooting and fishing expedition to the islands of Lynedale. * * * “Jolly place this, Count, is it not?” said the Doctor as he chalked his cue. “"Yees, very mooch. Zee heels er so big, and ze ladies so fair, and every theeng iz zo grande. I could leeve here all summer. Only ze segars er very bad, and ze viskey er very strong.” . “By the way, Count, have you noticed Mile. Thollier?” further inquired his friend in an apparently careless sort of way. “Not parteekularly,” replied the Count dart- ing a quick look at his interrogator. ‘For vy do you ask?” “Oh, nothing; only she struck me as being something out of the ordinary—a very fascina- ting woman who has a history.” “Ah! that eez it; I-should zink most peo- ples had a history.” “Oh yes, in a sort of sense every one has, but I didn’t mean that—However it doesn’t matter. Be the powers but that’s a foine canon, Count.” you take an interest in ze strange Frau- lein?” resumed the other, ignoring his friend's exclamation of praise, “Oh, nothing particular; only I can’t get it out ofme head that I have seen her before, somewhere or other.” Again the Count darted a quick interrogative glance at the Doctor, but he only said: “Ah, old acquaintances, I zink I hev seen her before too.” “You have?” interrupted the Doctor quickly. “Where? But excuse me, I am too abrupt.” “Weel you tell me vy you desire so mooch to knew about Mademoiselle?” inquired the Count quietly, as he laid down his cue and motioned the Doctor to a seat. The latter flushed uneasily, but replied at once: “The question is not easily answered, but I shall be frank. I have been here so short a time that I feel ashamed to interfere in dome- stic matters, or throw the slightest suspicion on any one, but I have a very dear friend here— you know whom?” The Count nodded. (To be continued.) Se eX Puck's Firchanges, LAURA'S PAIN. Laura now doth sigh and languish In a fit of woe and grief, And the dewdrops of her anguish Gem her pocket-handkerchief. Wherefore should this breathing flower Feel the arrows of despair? Wherefore should she but an hour Feel the throes of pain and care? While perfume is to her blowing From some swaying purple bell, Still her tear-drops keep on flowing From her soul's artesian well. She'll not soon with ‘“ Yankee Doodle” Make the parlor walls resound— This is all because her poodle, Clytemnestra, is in pound. _ —&™. ¥. Star. Albani says her little boy is quite a Gye— Boston Post. Hayes was never known to veto a dollar-bill. — Wheeling Leader. Wurm ten without end—The waters of Nia- gara into Lake Ontario—W. Y. Mews. Wuen Cleopatra's needle reaches this coun: try, the need'll be to find a place to put it.— Rome Sentinel, Wuy didn’t the Harvard crew stop and bail out its boat, and give Yale a chance to catch up?—Boston Post. Tue revolution in Paraguay ought to afford a_good opportuuity for the Paraguayphers.— Cin, Saturday Night, Ir must have been in the green-cherry season that Tennyson wrote “from our waist places comes a cry."— Yonkers Gaselle, Don't buy your boy a pair of gloves until after the Fourth of July. He may need only one glove then.—Vorristown Herald. Tue Cincinnati S/ar wants the police to club together. No use—they won't do it while the supply of citizens holds out.—W. Y. Express. Ir seems pretty certain that André will get his monument some time next year. We have still great hopes for the Washington monument. —Burlington Hawkeye, A TOMBSTONE with a simple cucumber carved upon it is oftentimes more expressive than one carved with ten thousand lines of obituary poetry.— Phila, Kronikle- Herald, Lots of people have gone to their Summer resorts at Manchester-by-the-Sea and West Point-on-the-Hudson. We have sent our trunk to Snumshire-on-the-Canal.— Boston Post, Hunprens of years from now when David Davis's grave is overturned some one will pick up his shinbone and claim to have discovered the skeleton of a mastadon.—Piila. Kronikle- Herald, Sounp travels at the rate of 1,145 feet ina second of time, and yet hand-organ men grind away as though it took four hours for it to reach up to a sleeping apartment in a second story.— cling Leader, Ismait I., the Khedive of Egypt, has retired from the throne, In twelve years he ed to run Egypt in debt to the extent of $20,000,- 000, from which it is strongly inferred that he was formerly a member of New York Tammany, —WNorristown Herald, One of our printers has recently received a button-hole bouquet from an unknown youn, lady. If he discovers the galley will chase this type of loveliness around the block, lock her form in his embrace and imprint an indelible impression upon her rosy lips.—Zoronto Gos- siper. Horrisie! Horrible! A new subscriber says that he has just heard that the refriger- ator, and wants to know why it ate her. if that person had not paid for a whole year in advance, his name would be cut off the list in- stanter. Refrigerator, indeed! That's an ice subject to bring up, isn’t it —Rome Sentinel. Dip you ever notice the broad, comfortable, shady-looking Leghorn hats in the milliner’s window? Just buy your wife one, and the first thing she will do with it will be to double up her dainty fist and punch a three-cornered dent on the right side, then she will pinch the front rim down, and the back rim up, and then stave in three or four more big dents at odd corners, and when it resembles in shape an old tin pan that has been a target for a stone- throwing match, she will remark upon the “ele- gance and grace” of the affair. But let John- nie serve his new straw hat in the same way, and he will be stood up in a dark closet, and forced to go without strawberry shortcake for supper.—New Haven Register, A NEW comet is coming—sit down, sit down; what's the use of getting excited? It is only visible from the second peak of Mount Ayt- chimboguandalahasta, in Central Asia, and only there with a three-story telescope, and then it is only visible twenty minutes at mid- night, and not then unless the atmosphere is exactly right, and when it is visible it only looks like a star about half the size of the lit- tle one in Job's coffin. By all the starry worlds that swing in space, when “ we” were a boy, the comets used to come around every summer, with heads on them like fire-balloons, and tails that stretched from the big dipper to thesouth- ern cross, and wagged back and forth like a bewildered torchlight procession, and came so close to the earth that they put the moon out. Out on these single-barreled comets, three for a quarter, that they get up for us in these de- generate modern days. We wouldn't walk from here to Asia to see a hundred of ’em.— Hawkeye. Tuey were on the march toward Capua, to meet the revolted Latin tribes, those wicked people who talked in six cases and more excep- tions than conjunctions, and who were named after the Latin grammar, when the consul, Man- lius Torquatus, remarked to his colleague: “I should hate to marry a girl whose father is dead, because my lungs aren’t very good, anyhow, and I would have to asth-ma for her.” «And you think you'd need the old man’s influenzy, hey?” replied Decius. “Oh, as to that,” said Manlius, ‘I wouldn’t need it so very lung.” “No,” rejoined the friend, “but you wouldn’t want to throat away, for all that.”” ‘Indeed not,” said Manlius, that would be no choke.” «No, there’s no inspiration in it.” The consul made one or two ineffectual ef- forts to get in something on the bronchial tubes, but failed ignominiously, and Decius, laughing at his failure, mockingly sang, “Tom- my, make room for your uncle,” It is thought that this had something to do with Decius’s death the following day.— Hawkeye. .