. The Saturday evening post. crow bait!called the affectionate driver. The horseand driver tore down the street and dis-appeared round the corner with dizzyspeed. Beany looked in vain for further inter-ruption. Goldsmith might have used thestreet as an inspiration for his poem. Oncemore he was face to face with his red tor-mentor. He turned for a final look at thesmoke from the burning leaves. The col-umn had doubled in size. If Mr. McGrudeiwas a dependable authority they weretechnically safe. Never apparently had th(time been more propitious for experimentswith fire alarms. Just then Beany wa
. The Saturday evening post. crow bait!called the affectionate driver. The horseand driver tore down the street and dis-appeared round the corner with dizzyspeed. Beany looked in vain for further inter-ruption. Goldsmith might have used thestreet as an inspiration for his poem. Oncemore he was face to face with his red tor-mentor. He turned for a final look at thesmoke from the burning leaves. The col-umn had doubled in size. If Mr. McGrudeiwas a dependable authority they weretechnically safe. Never apparently had th(time been more propitious for experimentswith fire alarms. Just then Beany wasstruck by a happy thought. Golly day, I wonder if these darn fool:think a fella is goin to break the glass witlhis finger? he said. I guess we cant d<anything till I go home an get a hammer. You dont need a hammer, suitGangleshanks cheerily. Use this. He offered Beany a huge jackknife whiclwould have been equal to the task of cracking a safe. Ordinarily Gangleshanks wm(Continued on Page 165) THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 163. ft. m
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