Clark went out, and there,
apparently, lay the incinerated and shrunken remains of his charger.
The boys idd not have any fun out of Mr. Clarke, who looked at the
body and, with the non-committal expression to which he owes so much
of his political preferment, went away. But walking home late that
night he saw his mule standing silent and solemn by the wayside in the
misty moonlight. Mentioning the name of Helen Blazes with uncommon
emphasis, Mr. Clark took the back track as hard as ever he could hook
it, and passed the night in town.
General H.H. Wotherspoon, president of the Army War College, has a
pet rib-nosed baboon, an animal of uncommon intelligence but
imperfectly beautiful. Returning to his apartment one evening, the
General was surprised and pained to find Adam (for so the creature is
named, the general being a Darwinian) sitting up for him and wearing
his master's best uniform coat, epaulettes and all.
"You confounded remote ancestor!" thundered the great strategist,
"what do you mean by being out of bed after naps? -- and with my coat
on!"
Adam rose and with a reproachful look got down on all fours in the
manner of his kind and, scuffling across the room to a table, returned
with a visiting-card: General Barry had called and, judging by an
empty champagne bottle and several cigar-stumps, had been hospitably
entertained while waiting.
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