He's camped by himse'f in a reemote corner of the room, an' he ain't been noticin' nobody an' nobody's been noticin' him.

All at once, in tones which is low but a heap discordant, Dave hums to himse'f something that sounds like: 'Bye O babe, lie still in slumber, Holy angels gyard thy bed.' "At this, Cherokee in a horrified way stops, an' we-all looks at each other.

Enright makes a dispar'in' gesture towards Dave an' says: "'Gents, first callin' your attention to the fact that Dave ain't over-drinkt an' that no nosepaint theery is possible in accountin' for his acts, I asks you for your opinions.

As you knows, this thing's been goin' for'ard for some time, an' I desires to hear if from any standp'int of public interest do you-all figger that steps should be took ?' "In order to fully onderstand Enright in all he means, I oughter lay bar' that Dave's been conductin' himse'f in a manner not to be explained for mighty likely she's eight weeks.

Yeretofore, thar's no more sociable sport an' none whose system is easier to follow in all Wolfville than Dave.