'Ugh! These clothes are all wet
and cold, and It feels like blood!"
"Nothln" but the mornln' de."
'It's perBplraiion."
"Well, a little sweat won't hurt you.'l
"Nasty word." Speed yawned In
turn; "Perspiration! I can't wear wet
clothes," 'and would have crept back
Into hlB bed.
This time Glass deposited him upon
a stool beside the table, and then
lighted a candle, by the sickly glare
of which he selected a pair of running-
shoes. "
'Why didn't you leave me alone?"
grumbled the younger man. "The
only pleasure I get Is in sleep I for
get things then."
"Yes," retorted the former, sarcas
tically, "and you also seem to forget
that these are our last days among
the living. Saturday the big thing
comes off."
PERIL OF FRENCH FASHIONS
Rev. Alpheua C. Karr Tells of an In
cident at the Opera In
Denver.
The Immorality of French fashions
was being discussed at a tea In Den
ver. The new idea of American fash
ions for American women was being
praised. Rev. Alpheus then said:
"It Is time that we removed our
women from the peril of French fash
ions. I attended the opera last year
during the Easter holidays. My com
panion pointed out to me a young ma
tron, blazing with diamonds, and he
said: '
" 'That is old Gobsa Golde's daugh
ter, the countess. I knew her rather
when he went about with his pants
held up by one suspender."
"I regarded the beautiful young
woman through my glass. Her cress
was audacious. I said, dryly:
" 'She must take after ber father,
then. Her gown, I see, la ield up by
one strap.'"
No Sun Here.
