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In travelling merely from Paradise to Sunrise City one needs little or no name. Still, one who would seek to divide honours with Judge Madison L. Menefee deserves a cognomenal peg upon which Fame may hang a wreath. Thus spake, loudly and buoyantly, the aërial miller: "Guess you'll have to climb out of the ark, Mrs. McFarland.
The lady passenger smiled calmly always calmly. "What a charming apple!" she murmured, clearly. For a brief space Judge Menefee felt crushed, humiliated, relegated. Second place galled him. Why had this blatant, obtrusive, unpolished man of windmills been selected by Fate instead of himself to discover the sensational apple?
She cared nothing for wealth in comparison with true affection. I admire and believe in the fair sex too much to think otherwise." The narrator ceased, with a sidelong glance at the corner where reclined the lady passenger. Bildad Rose was next invited by Judge Menefee to contribute his story in the contest for the apple of judgment. The stage-driver's essay was brief.
When Judge Menefee sanctioned to the act by his grey hair and widespread repute had introduced himself to the lady passenger, she had, herself, sweetly breathed a name, in response, that the hearing of the male passengers had variously interpreted. In the not unjealous spirit of rivalry that eventuated, each clung stubbornly to his own theory.
Among the prominent orators of the early day were Thomas F. Marshall and Richard M. Menefee. The genius, ready wit, satire, and forensic power of Marshall made him a favorite with all audiences at all times; but unfortunately his habit of intemperance lessened his powers and closed his career.
I never heard of no romance." "Ah!" exclaimed Judge Menefee, impressively; "a case of unrequited affection, no doubt." "No, sir," returned Bildad, "not at all. She never married him. Marmaduke Mulligan, down at Paradise, seen a man once that come from old Redruth's town.
I never heard of no romance." "Ah!" exclaimed Judge Menefee, impressively; "a case of unrequited affection, no doubt." "No, sir," returned Bildad, "not at all. She never married him. Marmaduke Mulligan, down at Paradise, seen a man once that come from old Redruth's town.
"Yes, sir, it's mighty pretty to look at but I reckon the kid had better stow the habit before he is introduced to Jeff Whitworth and Miles Menefee and the rest of the bunch," said that Mr. Buzz as he left off wiping from his cheek with the back of his hand the kiss I had put there, and administered to me another embrace on my shoulders with his long arm.
Guess I can do my turn all right." "I think the idea is charming," said the lady passenger, brightly. "It will be almost like a game." Judge Menefee stepped forward and placed the apple in her hand impressively. "In olden days," he said, orotundly, "Paris awarded the golden apple to the most beautiful."
Outside the wind roared mightily, the fine snow whizzed through the cracks, the cold besieged the backs of the immolated six; but the elements did not lack a champion that night. Judge Menefee was attorney for the storm.
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