The Iron Bar. For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. " Upon this he arose, and paced the room hastily backwards and forwards, as if further arranging his plans. But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. Forgetting the dark thoughts of his last brush with the girl, he dropped the dagger back in his pocket, quickened his pace, and went back into the house to look for his hostess. " The hint was not lost upon Wood. “I wrote it for you.
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