Page:Paine--J Archibauld McKaney collector of whiskers.djvu/127

   like gossamer from the upper air and left it on the deck at my feet. I picked it up. It was a tiny strand of golden hair, a fragment of the peerless whiskers of the late Pebotsky. Almost reverently I placed the souvenir in my notebook. It was all that remained of the Sentimental Anarchist. [109