Big Poker Site hazard of new fortunes 88

based upon responsible slavery would hardly be acceptable to your commercialized society." "Well, not as a practical thing, of course," Fulkerson admitted. "But as something retrospective, speculative, I believe it would make a hit. Theres so much going on now about social questions; I guess people would like to read it." "I do not know that my work is intended to amuse people," said the Colonel, with some state. "Mah goodness! Ah only wish it WAS, then," said his daughter; and she added: "Yes, Mr. Fulkerson, the Colonel will be very glad to submit potions of his woak to yo edito. We want to have some of the honaw. Perhaps we can say we helped to stop yo magazine, if we didnt help to stawt it." They all laughed at her boldness, and Fulkerson said: "It ll take a good deal more than that to stop Every Other Week. The Colonels whole book couldnt do it." Then he looked unhappy, for Colonel Woodburn did not seem to enjoy his reassuring words; but Miss Woodburn came to his rescue. "You maght illustrate it with the potrait of the awthoris daughtaw, if its too late for the covah." "Going to have that in every number, Miss Woodburn!" he cried. "Oh, mah goodness!" she said, with mock humility. Alma sat looking at her piquant head, black, unconsciously outlined against the lamp, as she sat working by the table. "Just keep still a moment!" She got her sketch-block and pencils, and began to draw; Fulkerson tilted himself forward and looked over her shoulder; he smiled outwardly; inwardly he was divided between admiration of Miss Woodburns arch beauty and appreciation of the skill which reproduced it; at the same time he was trying to remember whether March had authorized him to go so far as to ask for a sight of Colonel Woodburns manuscript. He felt that he had trenched upon Marchs province, and he framed one apology to the editor for bringing him the manuscript, and another to the author for bringing it back. "Most Ah hold raght still like it was a photograph?" asked Miss Woodburn. "Can Ah toak?" "Talk all you want," said Alma, squinting her eyes. "And you neednt be either adamantine, nor yet--wooden." "Oh, ho very good of you! Well, if Ah can toak--go on, Mr. Fulkerson!" "Me talk? I cant breathe till this thing is done!" sighed Fulkerson; at that point of his mental drama the Colonel was behaving rustily about the return of his manuscript, and he felt that he was looking his last on Miss Woodburns profile. "Is she getting it raght?" asked the girl. "I dont know which is which," said Fulkerson. "Oh, Ah hope Ah shall! Ah dont want to go round feelin like a sheet of papah half the time." "You could rattle on, just the same," suggested Alma. "Oh, now! Jost listen to that, Mr. Fulkerson. Do you call that any way to toak to people?" "You might know which you were by the color," Fulkerson began, and then he broke off from the personal consideration with a business inspiration, and smacked himself on the knee, "We could print it in color!" Mrs. Leighton gathered up her sewing and held it with both hands in her lap, while she came round, and looked critically at the sketch and the model over her glasses. "Its very good, Alma," she said. Colonel Woodburn remained restively on his side of the table. "Of course, Mr. Fulkerson, you were jesting, sir, when you spoke of printing a sketch of my daughter." "Why, I dont know--If you object--? "I do, sir--decidedly," said the Colonel. "Then that settles it, of course,--I only meant--" "Indeed it doesnt!" cried the girl. "Whos to know who its from? Ahm jost set on havin it printed! Ahm going to appear as the head of Slavery--in opposition to the head of Liberty." "Therell be a revolution inside of forty-eight hours, and well have the Colonels system going wherever a copy of Every Other Week circulates," said Fulkerson. "This sketch belongs to me," Alma interposed. "Im not going to let it be printed." "Oh, mah goodness!" said Miss Woodburn, laughing good-humoredly. "Thats becose you were brought up to hate slavery." "I should like Mr. Beaton to see it," said Mrs. Leighton, in a sort of absent tone. She added, to Fulkerson: "I rather expected he might be in to-night." "Well, if he comes well leave it to Beaton," Fulkerson said, with relief in the solution, and an anxious glance at the Colonel, across the table, to see how he took that form of the joke. Miss Woodburn intercepted his glance and laughed,

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