98 BULGERS REP UTATION.

and me were meandering down by their cabin, We sorter turned into the Woods to wait till they ’d come out. Then all of a suddent Lance stopped as rigid as a pointer that ’s flushed somethin’, and says, ‘B’goshl And thar, under a big redwood, sat that slimy hypocrite Bulger, twisting his long mustaches and smiling like clockwork along- side o’ little Meely Baker—-you know her, the pootiest of the two sisters—and she smilin’ back on him. Think of itl——that unknown, unwashed, long-haired tramp a11d bully, who must be forty if a day, and that innocent gal of sixteen. It was simply dis- gustin’ I

I need not say that the older cynics and critics already alluded to at once improved the occasion. What more could be ex- pected? WVomen, the world over, were noted for this sort of thing! This long- haired, swaggering bully, with his air of mystery, had captivated them, as he always had done since the days of Homer. Simple merit, which sat lowly in bar-rooms, and conceived projects for the public good around the humble, unostentatious stove, was nowhere! Youth could not too soon learn this bitter lesson, And in this case