" The boys in the
gallery cheered, and the curtain was rung up again, but her flag was still
there. Then they had a fighting scene, where everybody gets mad and goes
out into the dressing room and clashes old swords together, and come back
wounded. The king, after killing up a lot ahead, got a furlough and came
in and lallygaged with the Greek slave a spell, and then the battle was
lost, and "Sardine." said he might as well die for an old sheep as a lamb.
So he ordered a funeral pile built of red fire, and he got on it to be
burned up. The Greek slave said if that was the game she wanted a hand
dealt to her, as wherever "Sard." went she was going, as she had
an insurance policy against fire in the Northwestern Mutual. So he invited
her on to the kindling wood, and after hugging enough to last them through
perdition--and mighty good hugging it was too--the pile of slabs was
touched off, the flames rolled, and "Sard." and the Greek slave went down
to hell clasped in each other's embrace, and we went to the People's store
and bought a mackerel and went home and told our wife we had been to a
democratic caucus. We don't know what all the other fellows told their
wives, but there has been a heap of lying, we know that much.
[Illustration: "SARD." AND THE GREEK SLAVE.]
INSECURE ABODES.
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