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Show PETITE HISTOIRE. THE languid wind was soughing between the wavelets. Some persons pronounce it "sowing" and others "suffing." But no matter. He, the muchly eligible parti from a material point of view, stood sur la plage. Plage sounds so much better thah beach. I only said that because I thought most of you would not know what plage meant. A pollie form of onlightenment. Oh, dear! But in the maidly opinion he was entirely impossible. Except on account of his wealth. Small, weak-eyed, anemic, opposed to all forms of exercise, he was hardly the type of individual to find I1I3 milieu among the brawny anmed Hebes of the shore. Milieu sounds so much (TJiis padding pad-ding has got to stop. Ed.) Oh, very well. He stood beside an ambitious mother, whoso Junoesque daughter was disporting in the water far from shore, performing stunts which might have driven Annette Kellerman wild with rage. Whether 'twere premediated or no I have no means of discovering but oi a sudden the symmetrical amphibian amphi-bian (Gee, that's good) uttered a piercing shriek of "Help! help!" and disappeared beneath the surface only to reappear and reiterate her cries for assistance. Tho hyp'3rlcal and gasping mother turned to her companion. "Do you not hear my daughter ory-ing ory-ing for succor." she Imperiously inquired. in-quired. Yes, but I ain't one," he replied as ho turned and made his way back to the hotel. Which proved that he was not such a fool as he, looked, althougn even this fact has not rendered him additionally addi-tionally popular amonr the residents. The Scribe. |