which she had jumped there was a turn in the road, where
some trees shut off the sight, and the deacon's anxiety increased
momentarily until he reached this point. From here he could see ahead,
and down there in the middle of the road stood the widow waving her
shawl as a banner of triumph, though she could only guess at results.
The deacon came on with a rush, and pulled up alongside of her in a
condition of nervousness he didn't think possible to him.

"Hooray! hooray!" shouted the widow, tossing her shawl into the air.
"You beat him. I know you did. Didn't you? I saw you pulling ahead at
the turn yonder. Where is he and his old plug?"

"Oh, bother take him and his horse and the race and everything. Are
you hurt?" gasped the deacon, jumping out, but mindful to keep the
lines in his hand. "Are you hurt?" he repeated, anxiously, though she
looked anything but a hurt woman.

"If I am," she chirped, cheerily, "I'm not hurt half as bad as I would
have been if the squire had beat you, deacon. Now don't you worry
about me. Let's hurry back to town so the squire won't get another
chance, with no place for me to jump."

And the deacon? Well, well, with the lines in the crook of his elbow
the deacon held out his arms to the widow and----. The sisters at the
next meeting of the Sewing Society were unanimously of the opinion
that any woman who would risk her life like that for a husband was
mighty anxious.

GIDEON

By Wells Hastings (1878- )

[From _The Century Magazine_, April, 1914; copyright, 1914, by The
Century Co.; republished by the author's permission.]

"An' de next' frawg dat houn' pup seen, he pass him by wide."

The house, which had hung upon every word, roared with laughter, and
shook with a storming volley of applause. Gideon bowed to right and to
left, low, grinning, assured comedy obeisances; but as the laughter
and applause grew he shook his head, and signaled quietly for the
drop. He had answered many encores, and he was an instinctive artist.
It was part of the fuel of his vanity that his audience had never yet
had enough of him. Dramatic judgment, as well as dramatic sense of
delivery, was native to him, qualities which the shrewd Felix Stuhk,
his manager and exultant discoverer, recognized and wisely trusted in.
Off stage Gideon was watched over like a child and a delicate
investment, but once behind the footlights he was allowed to go his
own triumphant gait.

It was small wonder that Stuhk