That was the straw that broke the camel’s back--the fighting word had passed, and the pent-up dander of the bushy red head was at last aroused. As the intruding chap fell off of his perch Jan nailed him, believing that he had wet him, and such a fight as was never witnessed in _The Observer_ building before followed. Round and round the diminutive pugilists went until Jan showed signs of the savage, and onlookers interfered to prevent murder. The devil in Jan was in tumult and he fought like a Spartan. After that the boys--the paper sellers--left Jan alone. Now, Jan is going to leave us. His friends will chip in and help him on the way. He will be missed in circles where his auburn hair has become familiar. Jan, industrious, capable, and good-natured, but unfamiliar with the ways of this country, deserves credit for being as good as he is. Some day Jan Pier may wander back again. WILLIAM AND APPENDICITIS “Dere’s one thing dat I can’t understan’,” said William Gorrell, the doorkeeper at the Southern Manufacturers’ Club. “Yes, sir, an’ it’s puzzled me er whole heap.” “What is that, William?” I inquired. “How come you don’t hear ’bout no nigger havin’ dese new fangle diseases--dis here bell-aker an’ ’penderseetis.” “Bell-aker?” I asked. “Yes, sir, dis misery dat comes fum eatin’ corn. How come no nigger don’t have it? Dere ain’t nobudy whut eats more corn bread an’ mush dan er sho’ ’nuff nigger. Up home--dat’s in Greensboro--de niggers say: “‘Down de country de nigger say he loves mush, “‘Up de country de nigger say for God’s sake hush!’ [Illustration: _William._] “Haf’ de niggers in dis country’s been raised on mush, an’ corn dodger, an’ I ain’t never seed one die wid bell-aker.” “You mean pellagra?” “I don’t know whut you call it.” “I dismiss the pellagra, for I don’t know anything about it, but there’s nothing strange about the negro not having appendicitis, William,” said I. “You know what the vermiform appendix is, don’t you?” “No, sir, ’ceptin’ dat it’s somefin’ dat you gut an’ don’t need, an’ it can’t stay in yer when it gets hot.” “You know about Darwin’s theory of evolution?” “No, sir, to tell you de truf, I ain’t seed Mr. Dargin in almos’ er year.” “I don’t mean Jim Dargin, the traveling man, but Dr. Darwin, the great scientist, a learned man of the last century who contended that we all came from monkeys. You have heard of that theory?” “Yes, sir, I’se heard it said dat we come fum monkeys, but I ain’t believin’ everything dat I hears.” William cocked one eye up a little and prepared to listen. He did not catch on to the word “evolution,” but when I said that Mr. Darwin was the man that believed that a man came from a monkey he understood. He had heard of that claim. “You have heard that, then, William?” I continued. “Whut, boss, dat er man come fum er monkey?” “Yes.” “Yes, sir, but I ain’t put no faith in it.”