Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 172: what you’re looking at

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

514 off, a large, uneven stain upon the water. It was oil. Rapidly it grew larger, and from beneath it a steady stream of bub- . bles wobbled slowly to the surface and broke. Egan leaned against the rail, and with his mind’s eye saw a ghastly struggle against violent death far down beneath the quiet water, where the crushed sub- marine was sending up its dying gasps with each bubble that broke on the sur- face. | ‘* How much water’s in the hold?”’. de- PHYLLIS ON THE ARGOSY. manded the captain of no one in par- ticular. ‘Not very much, sir,’”’ answered Egan in a funny little voice. ‘‘ And the fires are pulled. I don’t believe we'll sink, sir.” He leaned weakly against the rail. He heard some one tell the captain of the fight in the stokehole. He listened and a tired smile crept over his face. “Well,” he muttered to himself, “I showed ’em; but, my Gawd, I was scared.” A PULLMAN 9°T“WAS on a bounding Pullman car That, like a vision from afar In matchless beauty—tress of gold And eyes to turn the arctic cold To tropic shimmer with their glance And ways suggesting song and dance— She dawned .and held me ’neath a spell No words can adequately tell— But oh, good Lord! When evening fell, my, how she snored! The cries of Indians lifting scalps! avalanches of the Alps! roar of cannon and of shot! echoes of some mammoth grot! scream of sea-gulls in their flight! song of tree-toads in the night! oompah of the big bassoon! honk of some impending loon— All got aboard, And swelled the tune that Phyllis snored{ Mozart and Verdi—both were there, And hints of Wagner filled the air: And every dissonance in life Was added to the nasal strife That permeated near and far Each nook and cranny of the car, And made me feel as if I trod Some battle-field’s encrimsoned sod Where nations warred Steel-armed and shod, as on she snored{ Oh, Maxim great, or Edison— It matters not to me which one— Wilt thou not take this chance in mind And for the good of all mankind Some day from out thy genius rare Devise an instrument with care— A sort of nasal silencer— To still the tumult and the whir That wholly floored My heart when lovely Phyllis snored? John Kendrick Bangs MICLOOOK C©