The Weber Literary Journal response to the call, all Threadville was dumb. Then one gasp "Sadie!" rose from the crowd. And then, Jeremiah advanced and explained. The audience sat more than respectably still while he told his story but when he concluded with "and them two crooks is now in the county jail and the cast has asked Miss Sullivan to take them over an' head the company herself " Threadville rose in one mighty cheer that is, all but Bert Loring, and he didn't b'long to the town anyhow. However, strange as it may seem, the next movie found Sadie at her right aisle post and still giving Bert Loring his second smile as he chose his end seat. The Tramp By Elizabeth Seppich I sing a song of a life that is free, Of a life beyond all toil. My bread is the bread they give to me, My bed is a bed of the soil. I live; I'm happy; I come; I go. I'm as free as the mind or sea. But I wonder when life's little breath is gone Will they ever remember me? 36 The Weber Literary Journal Tests By David Reader WE look upon a pest as a thing undesirable. Anything which humanity could do better without, is surely nothing more or less than a pest. What would constitute a pest in the eyes of one would not be bothersome to another; so naturally we are forced to draw our own conclusions. We see the tired housewife with swatter in hand feebly striking at each buzzing intruder. We say to ourselves "Pests." The farmer curses violently when he discovers his season's crops are being eaten by the devastating weevil and grasshopper; these, too, might easily be placed in the list of non-essentials. A gossipping neighbor may be classed as such; for indeed one who knows some one else's business better than he does his own, is nothing less. But to my mind there is no greater pest than the little purring animals so often seen curled up in comfortable quarters about the fire place. These quiet little wretches are nothing more than our domesticated house cats. My great reason for having such a dislike for cats is that our neighborhood is blessed with them, and that all these blessings shower their noisy bodies upon the roof of a shed a few feet from my tent. Of course, all cats are the same, that is, all except ours, and he seems to say more in less time than any of the others. He generally leaves home early in the evening and by the noon of night has gathered together enough of his canary-eating friends to begin meeting. From the time the meeting commences to the hour of its adjournment his screeching voice is foremost. While such a meeting is in session, sleep is impossible. I remember one evening last summer. I had just settled myself for a night of peaceful slumber when I was aroused by a low "meow". I was used to such slight disturbances, and I forced it out of my mind. Sleep reigned again; but it was no match for the outburst which followed, and I sat up in bed 37