And now where are they?"
"Well," I says, "where are they?"
"In the tomb," says Looey, very sad, like they
was closte personal friends of his'n. And he told
me all about them and how Young Cobalt had done
fur them. But from what I could make out it all
happened away back in the early days. And
shucks!--I didn't care a dern, anyhow. I told
him so.
"Well," he says, "It's been the history of the
world that it brings trouble." And he says to
look at Damon and Pythias, and Othello and the
Merchant of Venus. And he named about a
hundred prominent couples like that out of Shake-
speare's works.
"But it ends happy sometimes," I says.
"Not when it is true love it don't," says Looey.
"Look at Anthony and Cleopatra."
"Yes," I says, sarcastic like, "I suppose they
are in the tomb, too?"
"They are," says Looey, awful solemn.
"Yes," I says, "and so is Adam and Eve and Dan
and Burrsheba and all the rest of them old-timers.
But I bet they had a good time while they lasted."
Looey shakes his head solemn and sighs and
goes to sleep very mournful, like he has to give me
up fur lost. But I can't sleep none myself. So
purty soon I gets up and puts on my shoes and
sneaks through the wood-lot and through the gap
in the fence by the apple tree and into Miss Hamp-
ton's yard.
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