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| THE TICKLEMORE |
8 BOOM I
§
By F. E. CHASE
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(Copyright, by Shortstory Pub. Co.)
Thomas Ticklemore, author, will
hardly be remembered by the pres
ent generation of readers of fiction,
though his vogue some ten years ago
was as great as it proved ephemeral.
He had served the usual weary ap
prenticeship to letters, during which
his only extravagance was postage
stamps, and his superlative luxury
three meals a day, when the publica
tion of his striking tale, "King Sub
terfuge, the Subtle," first brought him
into prominence. At the very thresh
old of fame he encountered the auto
graph collector. His greatly augment
ed mail now brought him fresh com
missions, fat chocks and flattering
words of praise and encouragement,
but also, in the proportion of twenty
to one, requests for his autograph
from that incomprehensible class that
attaches a value to this simple product
of the writer's art.
Had his success been less sudden,
and the resulting demand for the more
lagitimn e product of his pen been less
overwhelming, a pardonable vanity
might have induced him to yield to
these requests; but as It was, he took
the advice of his friend Coolpltcher,
the comedian.
"Never, dear boy," said that vet
eran in popularity, “on your blessed
life. Ignore ’em. Don't make your
self too cheap.”
In this counsel Coolpltcher was en
tirely i (insistent with his own prac
tice; for though he had never been
niggardly of his autograph, and had,
indeed, given it freely during a long
qiwI Mirtflfftrpfl niihHr» nftrppr nhlpflv
in Hie form of I.O.U.’s, he had never
made it at all cheap to Its re
cipients. Ticklemore adopted it forth
with. employing the requests which
continued to crowd his letter box as
pipe lights, and utilizing the re
turn postage stamps they occasionally
contained for the forwarding of manu
script to his publishers.
It was not long before it got abroad
that the distinguished Mr. Tickle
more had never given his autograph
to any one, even going to the length
of signing private notes with a rub
her stamp, and of making verbal con
tracts only, to the jeopardy ®f his pe
cuniary interests. This singular fact
circulated widely in the newspapers
by his astute publishers as a literal}
note, stimulated his admirers to re
doubled energy In the pursuit of sc
unique a possession. More than one
hotel man privately wrote the dlstln
guislied name in an old register, anc
then employed some disinterested pet
son to discover it.
The few genuine autographs tha
had survived front earlier years hat
been long ago absorbed by collectors
and the situation thus created w'as o
inestimable value, for advertising pur
poses, to the author's delighted pub
Ushers.
That Coolpitcher’B advice was like!;
to be a source of direct profit to th<
author himself never occurred t;
either of them; nor was It so at first
save in the small economy in postagi
stamps that it occasioned, until thi
growth of Ticklemore’s income ne
cessitatel the opening of a hank ac
count. This expedient was agreeabl;
forced upon him in a very few month:
afl^r the publication of “King Subter
fnge, the Subtle,’’ which ran nimbi.'
into edition after edition.
Doctors’
i say take Cod Liver O/Y—they
undoubtedly mean Scott's
Emulsion.
It would be just as sensible
for them to prescribe Quinine
in its crude form as to pre
scribe Cod Liver Oil in its
natural state. In
Scott’s
Emulsion
the oil is emulsified and made
easy to take—-easy to digest
and easy to be absorbed in to
the body—and is the most
natural and useful fatty food to
feed and nourish the wasted
body that is known in medicine
today.
Nothing can be found to take
its place. If you are run-down
yoi ' take it.
Sene ament. together with nam
of p. ‘t appears, your address and
four . postage, and we will send
you a " • Handy Atlas of the World.”
SCO 11 . ' i a'SL, 403 Pearl St, New York
The
General Demand
of the Well-Informed of the World has
always been for a simple, pleasant and
efficient liquid laxative remedy of known
value; a laxative which physicians could
sanction for family use because its com
ponent parts are known to them to be
wholesome and truly beneficial in effect,
acceptable to the system and gentle, yet
prompt, in action.
In supplying that demand with its ex
cellent combination of Syrup of Figs and
Elixir of Senna, the California Fig Syrup
Co. proceeds along ethical lines and relics
on the merits of the laxative for its remark
able success.
That is one of many reasons why
Syrup of Figs and Elixir of Senna is given
the preference by the Well-Informed.
To get its beneficial effects always buy
| the genuine—manufactured by the Cali
\ fornia Fig Syrup Co., only, and for sale
by all leading druggists. Price fifty cents
per bottle.
Upon the evening of the day on
which Mr. Tieklemore made his first
deposit, there appeared in a leading
daily paper that had published a
tanding offer of $500 for a genuine,
authenticated autograph, a photo-en
graved fac simile of his signature, and
an announcement that the original
could be seen at the Paragon office.
There, behind a strong plate glass, and
jealously guarded by a husky police
man, Tinklemore beheld the signature
be had furnished the bank for com
parison. I^ater he received a note of
apology from the president saying
that, while he was the last man to
accuse a brother official of underhand
ed conduct, simple justice to himself
demanded the statement that, for his
t i art. ne was mcapame or converting
| a public trust to private ends, while
'ho cashier, whom he met that even
ing in society, said with some bitter
ness that it was a hard position for an
upright man to he mixed up with peo
ple whose moral sense was a minus
quantity. From which Ticklemore in
ferred that they had divided the spoils.
At the month's end, when he called
for his book, which had been sent in
to be balanced, the young man who
handed it to him said:
“You need not have troubled to
bring in your book, Mr. Ticklemore,
since T see you have no checks out.”
“Ah, but I have," he replied, “lots of
them." And indeed, charmed by the
novelty of the thing, he had written
an unnecessarily large number, in
payment of divers small bills. None
of these had been presented for pay
ment.
He could not account for this, and
when at the end of the second month
he again received hack his book with
out a single debit item, he was not
only puzzled but vaguely alarmed.
Ho did not seek Coolpitcher's ad
> vice, however, in this matter. Cool
pitcher’s pronounced talent for supply
ing debit items seemed to him peril
ous at such a crisis, so he kept the
matter quite to himself.
In a few days the explanation ar
) rived In an accidental way. A strug
gling literary friend said to bim:
"1 see you have set up a bank ac
■ count, old man.”
“Why, yes," replied Ticklemore,
guardedly, scenting a touch, "in a
mall way—in a very small way. How
i did you know'?”
"Oh, I saw one of your checks in a
•inn's sntnjrranh nlhiim If wa« for
>11. He wanted it bad. seems to me."
Tirklemore remembered the cheek
It had been given for a box of cigars.
Eleven dollars did seem a large price
o pay for an autograph, even for that
if a writer of his unexampled popu
'arity, but here was the fact—a man
had paid, in effect, this precise sum
for one.
The author's inflammable imaglna
•ion blazed up at this spark into a
vivid flash of generalization. This un
precedented circumstance promptly
translated itself into boundless wealth.
His daily expenses, if paid by checks
not too large in individual amount,
would be eagerly provided for by his
admirers, while his income remained
intact. It was a fortunate condition
>f things beside which the resources
of Monte CTisto became insignificant.
He applied his nimble pen to this
ew task with zeal. He worked half
the day only upon his new novel, and
devoted the remainder to the conge
nial labor of writing checks, equally
imaginative in point of value, that
were never to be paid. In a short time
his second book duly appeared, and
its popularity exceeded, if possible,
that of his first. Thus encouraged,
Ticklemore employed an attractive
oung woman as an assistant to do
the drudgery of filling in the amounts
and other details of the checks, and
saved his own strength for the labor
of signing them, thus doubling his
daily output.
His wholly unimpaired capital he In
vested In real estate in choice locali
ties and in good bends, displaying
ionaiderahla shrewdness in taoth lines
jT divestment. But he did not permit
he cares of business to interfere with
he remunerative labor of writing
checks. His literary labors suffered
somewhat from these encroachments,
mt still he contrived, with the invalu
tble aid of his pretty amanuensis, to
,et out his third novel by the end of
-he second year. Upon the day that it
was finished, after signing the usual
batch of checks made ready for him
by her careful hand, he signed an ad
litional one in blank—a most unwise
hing to do—requesting her to make it
lut for a specified sum to her own or
der.
“Pray accept this, my dear,” said he
with an engaging smile, “as a slight
testimonial of my regard and appreci
ation.”
It may have been due to the fact
that two very striking books by other
authors appeared at about the same
lime, or there may really have been,
as the critical press insisted, a falling
iff in his work from the old standard
which had made him famous; but it
is certain that his third novel fell
rather flat, barely reaching a second
edition in the first year. This, how
ever, he accepted philosophically, say
ing, “Better luck next time," and went
in writing checks with the same reck
less hand
One day, to his great surprise, he
received a polite notice from the bank
calling his attention to an overdraft
which he was requested to make good
He went down to see about it. and
found that six or eight hundred of his
recent checks had been unprecedent
edly presented for payment quite ex
hausting the comfortable balance
which he had left after his last pur
chase of bonds. This disconcerted
him a little, but he sold a few securi
ties and made the loss good. At the
end of the month the balance which
he had thus restored was again ex
hausted by an influx of chocks which
made a package so large that they had
to be returned to him by express.
On looking them over the same
evening he discovered with dismay
that among those of recent date were
enod manv earlier ones which bore
upon their backs stains of the mucin
age by means of which they had been
attached to the pages of autograph
albums. Still he did not grasp the full
consequences of his fall from popular
ity, but met what he regarded as a
temporary reverse with the nonchal
ance of a man of large resources.
He began to notice, however, a
change in the manner of the people at
the bank which disconcerted him, and
the notices of overdrafts became a*
the same time more frequent and
more peremptory. In response to
these he sold by degrees all his securi
ties and finally his real rstate and per
sonal belongings, but still the flood of
checks returned upon and absorbed
the proceeds of his sales.
The crisis tame quickly. In answer
to an urgent demand for fund., he
had sold his last remaining assets to
the amount of some $S9,000, and had
intrusted this sum to his typewriter to
deposit it. She had hardly time to
reach the bank when the cashier tele
phoned for more money.
"Hut I have just paid In nearly $90,
000,” gasped Ticklemore.
"All checked out,” came over the
unsympathetic 'phone.
Ticklemore fell back stunned in his
office chair, where his typewriter
found him ten minutes later.
"Well, Mary," he said feebly, "It’s
all up.”
"Not on your life,” said Mary, who,
though gifted in a practical way, still
lacked the higher culture.
“Eh!” said Ticklemore, sitting up.
"Was it a false report, then?”
"No,” she replied. "You're broke,
right enough; hut after I had banked
that ninety thou,’ I filled out that
blank chock you gave me, an' put it in
at the other wlhdow. So I’m it.”
Ticklemore gazed upon her with ad
miration.
"Mary, will you marry me?” said he.
"la a minute!" she replied.
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Right Kind of
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The home news; the doings of the people in this
town; the gossip of our own community, that’s
the first kind of reading matter you want. It is
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Yfa& Might Kind of
Reading flatter
Dry Rot in Men.
The first strong external revela
tion of the dry rot in men is a ten
dency to lurk and lounge; to be at
street corners without intelligible
reason; to be going anywhere when
met; to be about many places ratten
than at any; to do nothing tangible,
but to have an intention of perform
ing a variety of intangible duties to
morrow or the day after. When the
manifestation of the disease is ob
served, the observer will usually con
nect it with a vague impression once
formed or received that the patient
was living a little too hard. He will
scarcely have had leisure to turn It
over In his mind and form the ter
rible suspicion "dry rot" when he will
notice a change for the worse in the
patient’s appearance—a certain elov
eullness and deterioration which is
not poverty nor dirt nor Intoxication
nor ill-health, but simply "dry rot."—
Roanoke Times.
Human Life In the Future.
"The bath of the next century-"
says T. Haron Russell in his book, "A i
Hundred Years Hence," "will lave the
body speedily with oxygenated water
delivered with a force that will ren
der rubbing unnecessary, and beside
it will stand the drying cupboard
lined with some quickly moving ar
rangeinent of soft brushes, and fed
with a highly desiccated air, from
which, almost in a moment, the
bather will emerge, dried, and with
skin gently stimulated, and perhaps
electrified, to clothe himself quickly
otd pass down the lift to his break
'nst, which he will eat to the accom
paniment of a summary of the morn
ing’s news read out for tho benefit
of tho family, or whispered into his
ears by _u talking machine.”
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