Cooking in a student's boarding house is what Sherman thought of war, so thought poor Bridget, and to forget her trouble, she would sit all day with a black bottle beside her. "We want lunch; we want lunch," quoth the starved-out students. "A cook, a cook, our learning for a sober cook," said they all. However, the cook had a gentle hang-over and would not move. The landlady finally extricated Bridget from the aforesaid bottle, and set her to mixing some week-old hash. What will the students do? Ah, one has a plan. They will cure the cook by means of a skeleton that they have. They hang it in the coal-bin. Bridget sees it, invokes the aid of seventy saints and runs. "Everywhere, here and there, but the skeleton her pursues." She falls off the roof and breaks all the new pavement, for which the landlady assessed the students one "bone" apiece. She mixes up the crowded traffic of Bingville by getting run over by an automobile, and then, refusing to collect a crowd, boatmen, policemen, ...
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