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Short Stories.
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A PATHETIC STORY.
J. H. JAMES.
The scene is in one of the fashionable
drinking resorts in .
It is a cloudless summer day, and a
number of gayly dressed young men are
passing the time away in the saloon,
drinking and talking over events of the
day.
Another man enters—a man with very
uncouth appearance, one who is surely
not expected' in so gay a crowd of young
men.
Upon observing the new arrival the
young men crowd around him, laughing
and making sport of him. When their
laugh had somewhat subsided he asked
them for a drink. This they gave him.
They wished him to tell them a story,
and without hesitation he began by tell
ing them' that he was once an artist, had
plenty of money, and was accustomed to
visit fashionable resorts. He was just
beginning to rise in fame when he met a
woman, whom he loved, and shortly
afterwards married. He had! not been
married long, however, when a young
friend of his, so he thought, stole his
wife, and he had never been able to find
her and her abductor. This had broken
his heart; he had taken to drink, lost
his well paying custom, and here he was,
a broken-hearted wretch. Many were
the sympathizers in this little crowd of
young men when he had finished has
story.
He was an artist. Would! he paint
them his wife’s picture on the floor? Yes,
he would do this gladly if they would
give him another drink. They procured
for him crayon and he began to sketch
a most beautiful picture on the bar-room
floor.
He seemed strangely excited; his eyes
sparkled with fierce determination as he
placed the last lock on the shapely head.
As he gave the last finishing touch he
gave a scream, leaped, and fell dead
across the picture.
A LAUGHABLE OCCURRENCE.
The evening the A. and M. ball team
played their game with Waxahachie a
large crowd of the cadets gathered at
the mess hall, instead of falling in with
the companies to march down to supper.
After the bugle had sounded about a
dozen of these boys marched' into the
hall and began eating. They were not
at all afraid of being caught or seen. At
this juncture Colonel Edmonds came in
from the rear of the mess hall. Such
scrambling. They all managed to get
out, and were perfectly willing to wait
for the battalion.
THE FISH SENTINEL.
J. W. HABT.
He was at retreat, and 1 as he heard
his name read out to go on guard mount
for the first time, he wondered what fate
would have in store for him on the mor
row. After retreat he began cleaning up,
continuing the process until taps. Even
as he starts to guard mount in the morn
ing he carefully dusts his shoes and ar
ranges his necktie. At the sound of the