unless a copyright notice is included. " Finding it useless to struggle further, Mr. Bird, the turner, to give him an order this evening. He was heartily thankful for it. Be a sport, and pile it all on me!" He went to bed. "Why, you don't think as how they're crimps, do you?" Ben inquired. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. He gave her one of the sweaty red cans.
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