- - . - - - - - - - º - º BUHR - - - - - | - º -- L. - - - - - h. - - - - - - - - THE WIT & HUMOR C F A NATION IN | lººkE, SONG & STORY lºSEATED BY AMERICAS GREATEST ARTISTS SPECIAL EDITION] - - - º * --- ºl -º- - * THE GIFT OF Trow\ \ NNoWercº 5. : t # ; wº- ºr ºx. CARICATUR (EIGHTH EDITION) WIT AND HUMOR OF A NATION IN PICTURE, SONG AND STORY Grant E. Hamilton “Zim” E. Flohri Art Young A. S. Daggy J. M. Flagg T. S. Sullivant R. F. Outcault Penrhyn Stanlaws F. Nankivel S. Werner “Gus” Dirks F. L. Fithian “BB” Baker J. H. Smith Sydney Adamson Peter Newell H. C. Greening C. T. Anderson Burges Johnson W. J. Lampton R. K. Munkittrick Illustrated by J. Conacher W. M. Goodes H. M. wilder Jno. Cassell Hy Mayer C. J. Taylor T. S. Allen Bob Addams - Albert Levering Malcolm Strauss F. H. Ladendorf Charles Sarka R. S. Bredin Albert Bloch Bert Levy V. A. Soboda Fred Lewis Frank Snapp Geo. Herriman Gordon Grant Arthur Lewis Geo. R. Brill C. Knowlton Poems and Stories by Tom Masson Edwin L. Sabin Carolyn Wells W. D. Nesbit Edward W. Barnard Henry Tyrrell Frank H. Brooks Eugene Geary and others L ESLI E-J UD G E COM PANY, 225 FIFTH A V E N UE, NEW YOR K 1911 "Mooo visiºn v Tºtº Lº- ſynon ſu tº 5uºupſ anſwd F. ºpºp ſut ‘94 ºf 2/v/..naſ sº, tº ſ/p 10 pps uſeſ, oyouſ 141 Pºmº AI waſ pºſs sp.tºm ºf sºlº/ //? ſuſ // ºnp s, ſinuº/ ſ:// 1717 Autº */ up/ ſºuſ as */ diſsºm AL ſºn'ſ , sº tº 24// ſº utys pu Fº yºup'ſ ſistu () “Pºv'ſ ſºſ () ‘umo ſu Lupaſ ſu sº ºu"/ "N : ºyººs tº ſ/ 1/3m0!!! [...º ſ// : tº dº ſºm/s spº 22// 44/º/ 4/47 syºm pup stºp 252/4 tº ‘ſpp.7 avºCI "ſtºº. Jºp tº 154/ ſº ſº.I. ºn tºpus, tº ſº ºus */ was ºf 1/2 aum/.44/ ſum ºf 1/ ºſa ſºnſ 24! ſo ſpp.7 avoC/ & GI O I L I H L CINV A. CIV T 3 H L *º wº º tºº Sº ºs. º- º Nº. º ºw's-ºs- * > º;'<= Lº “It is oxE of the Most home-MADE Looking ANIMALS.” cigar-store Indian that grasps the neatly carved hunk of wood that is commonly supposed to represent either twelve cigars or a dozen stalks of short brown asparagus. The forelegs of the kanga- roo, instead of trailing on the ground like the forelegs of the horse, are at- tached to the handsome beast up some- where near the second story, just above the mezzanine floor, and are about as useful as the buttons on the tail of a coat. The young of the kangaroo are smaller than the female adult. This is one of the most far-sighted provisions of nature, since the lady kangaroo wears on the front of her robe de nuit a pantaloon pocket into which the young kangaroolets hop when danger approaches. If the young of the kangaroo family were larger than the adults they could only enter the pocket with extreme difficulty, and the appear- ance of the graceful mother kan- garoo would be sadly marred. In the scale of beauty the kan- garoo ranks between the wart hog W on d e r ful my own eyes. By ELLIS PARKER BUTLER. In general effect it looks as if the batter had not been quite thick enough when the kangaroo was put in the oven to bake. Botanically, the kangaroo belongs to the hop family. Nothing is sweeter than to see a large swarm of kangaroos hopping over the steppes and mesas of their native Australia, the whole vast flock rising and falling in unison, while the playful kangaroo children leap from pocket to pocket. Those who have studied the hopping apparatus of the kangaroo pronounce it a most perfect piece of mechanism. In hopping, the kangaroo presses its large and virile tail against the ground, digs its toes in the sand, takes a short reef in its back, and prepares to hop. It is then ready. At the moment it feels a hopping impulse, it pushes the earth with its tail, undigs its toes, unreefs its back, and away she goes, hoppety hop— hoppety hop — hoppety hop. Such thoughts as these make us marvel, in- deed, at the glorious prodigality of na- ture, and such things. The kangaroo can sit on the lower link of its left hind leg and scratch itself in the back of the head with its right hind toes. I have seen an otherwise staid and respectable kangaroo do this, with Even Theodore Roosevelt must pause and ponder before he at- tempts this feat, which is as nothing to the guileless and untutored kangaroo. We should study the kangaroo before we allow ourselves to become proud and haughty, puffed up with ideas of our human superiority. This gentle creature and the toad. It is one of the most home-made looking animals. “HOPPETY Hop—hoppety Hop-hoppety Hop.” Kang a roo. needs no baby carriage. It can sit down while standing up. Its eye is mild and its manner modest, and yet it can lift up its hind leg and kick a window in a Missouri mule before the mule has time to breathe its song of battle. The kan- garoo is a gentle, guileless creature, and yet one side swipe of its tough tail “‘That's Nothink but the M sixth FN LAST Grogs You AND ME HAI).'" could crush a red-headed dock-walloper into a plain, mushed-up desuetude. The kangaroo was first discovered by Captain Cook in 1770, in Tasmania and eastern Australia. Upon discovering it, Captain Cook turned to his first mate. “Hi say, Bill !” he said, with emo- tion. “Bally-lookin’ hanimals a cove sees in these yere latitudes ' What?” “Right, oh, cap'n ''” said the first mate heartily; “honly that ain't no hanimal. That’s nothink but them six- teen last grogs you an’ me had in the cabin this mornin', a-workin’ to the surface.” For a few minutes the captain watched the young kangaroos jumping in and out of the mother's vest pocket, and then watched the whole cargo go loppety-lopping off across the plain. “Plain water for me arter this, Bill !” he said solemnly, and from that day until his death he never touched another drop of grog. That mysterious underground volcano discovered at the Culebra cut of the Panama canal is nothing but hot air escaping from the bot- tled-up wrath of Colombia. - Old-time wheelman—“Lazy brute!” #4 *2+ A3 - *A. Z22 º *>32: #ſº WLºº *:::: Ch r is to p her Col u m bus. By ELLIS PARKER BUTLER, Author of “Pigs Is Pigs.” ON OCTOBER 12th, 1492, Christo- pher Columbus took his large, forceful foot out of his boat and set it on the beach of Guanahani, one of the Bahama Islands, immediately putting the other foot beside it, and thus he be- gan the immigration problem which is still with us, although C. Columbus has passed away. Had he waited but a few short centuries, he could have landed at Ellis Island and had his teeth examined free of charge. Truly, haste makes waste. C. Colon, as his neighbors called him, or Chris, as he was affectionately termed by his crew, died in 1506, thus failing to live long enough to see the banana sold three for five cents and to hear Wagner's German tidbits played on an Italian hand organ in the Irish quar- ter of the land he discovered. What he would have said had he heard Wagner's dulcet strains is now only a matter for conjecture. There are some historians who say he would have spread his face #º % ºf SSS ºf . ãºre ſº-º-º: Tº in a glad, sweet smile, while others con- tend he would have discovered Alaska before he stopped running. None can tell. The parents of C. Colomb, as he was sometimes called, were woolcombers, which accounts for his long hair. Being combers by profession, his parents did not mind combing it. They combed it every morning, just to get their hands limber for the day’s work. It is said that Chris's father was something of a joker himself, and that he remarked, when Chris was born, “Woolcomb, little stranger!” but the little stranger would ºSk º Z, Nºvº not woolcomb. He is said to have re- marked, “No, father; I have other plans. Herrman the Great is getting old and there is an opening for a first- class sleight-of-hand man that can do neat parlor tricks with eggs and discover China off the coast of South America.” By this it will be seen that Christoval, as he was sometimes called, was hazy in his geography. Indeed, the school map of the world of those days was far from the map as we know it now. Through carelessness or graft, large slices of the world were omitted from the school maps; and when the matter was brought to the attention of the board of educa- tion, and suggestions were made that four or five continents seemed to have broken loose from their moorings and to have floated off, and the board was asked to get a new set of geographies, the only answer they made was, “What is there in it for us?” Nowadays Amer- ica can be found on all good European maps of the world, being retained on §: W. }&Y - THE COST OF Stranger—“Poor fellow off P’’ Native—“Taking nothing ! (ALMOST) them as a compliment to the tourists. But little Christophorus, as he was sometimes called, did not have this ad- vantage. He was obliged to set out seeking America when he did not know there was such a place and did not know he was seeking it. That he found it at all under such circumstances shows he was no common person. How many of us who pride ourselves on our wisdom and sagacity far more than Cristofore (as he was sometimes called) ever did are unable to find even a small, brass collar button when we know exactly where it fell ! We should think of this. Christophe, as he was sometimes called, was a married man when he dis- covered America, but we have no reason for believing that was why he discovered it. Excellent as his education had been, he had never heard of Reno. And yet, who in Reno has not heard of Columbus? It pays to get your name in the papers. Chris was not, on the whole, what one would call a good, home-loving, family man. He never complained of the food, but soon after he was married he began to stay away from home nights, wander- ing along the coast of Africa with some Portuguese companions or hiking off to Iceland with a stag party. It was “anything to get away from home” with Chris, so far as I can see; and as soon as he heard that China was farther from his peaceful fireside than any other place, he kissed his wife good-night and LIVING. Why are they taking him That 's a citizen with his week's groceries being seen home by an armed escort.” told her not to wait up for him, and set out for China. That is what he told her he was going to do, anyway; but he never turned up in China at all. When Mrs. Columbus telephoned there, they answered that they had not seen him, but if he dropped in they would tell him he was wanted at home. And the next that was heard of Chris, he was in America. Nobody could place any reliance in him at all. His excuse, when he reached home and his wife let him know she was very well aware he had not gone to China at all, was pretty thin. He had the effrontery to tell her that he had actually started for China and meant to get there, but that, when he was making a straight course for Hongkong, some one pushed two big continents in front of him and he just naturally tripped over them. You may be sure that the next trip Chris took his wife went with him. witu-I-A- ( “I’ll see about this America!” she said; and, in spite of all his pleadings that it was no place for a lady, she went. “That’s too thin, Chris ''' she said. “I want to know why you came home with a photograph of a dark-red brunette in your inside vest pocket. No man I ever heard of ever carried anything in the inside pocket of his vest unless he wished to conceal it. I want to see your Dolly.” Then Chris made the error of his life. “Her name isn't Dolly,” he said. “It’s Cush-cush-to-wagly-bugh.” “Very well, Christopher,” said Mrs. Colon, in a cutting tone, as she slammed her bedroom slippers into her suit-case; “all Cush-cush-to-wagly-bughs look alike to me!” Chris was not, perhaps, wholly free from blame, and it is such actions as this that drive women into the suffra- gette fold. As soon as she landed in America, Mrs. Colomb organized the Woman’s Suffrage League of Guanahani. I hate to cast suspicion on Mrs. Colom- bo, but it was soon after Chris had a few sharp words with her that he was toted back to Spain in chains, and Mrs. C. remained in full charge of the gov- ernment. Do not hasten trouble; it arrives on time. ‘‘IN DAYS OF OLD.” “I wouldn't want to put on them things." "Sure, when you're fightin' mad ye don't care what ye wear.” - nº- THE LATEST THINGS IN FURS–PERSIAN LAMB. Those Boys—But What Would Home Be Without Them? His Mother Speaks : ILLIE, will you just look at that clock? You have looked at it? Then why don’t you get ready for bed? You know that you must always be in bed by half-past eight. I don’t care if Ted Thomas does sit up until nine. Half-past eight is your bedtime and— Stop that muttering ! You know that I have told you many times not to mutter and— No, you cannot sit up to study your home lesson! Strange that you never think of your home lesson until your bedtime! You will have time to By J. L. HARBOUR. study it in the morning if you get up early. Yes, you will! No, the clock is not half an hour fast! I had your father set it by his watch this very morning. No, you can’t just finish that story. You have had the whole evening in which to read and study, and you have done nothing but dawdle. Now you are very eager to read and study, aren't you? I don’t care anything about what other boys do, for— If you do not stop, that muttering, I shall call your father! Yes, you will care! And I want you to wash your hands good before you go to bed. When did you wash them? No, it isn't only sissy-boys who have clean hands. Willie Smythe, will you just bear in mind that it is your mother to whom you are speaking? Yes, you act as if you knew it! You will have cause to remember it if I call your father. He isn't your mother, as you very well know. Don’t you be impertinent! That is one thing your mother will not put up with, as I have told you a hun- dred times? Why don’t you take off your shoes? You pick up that necktie! The idea of flinging things around the room like that! That isn't the place for your jacket! I'd like to know what the house would look like if I wasn’t particular ! Stop jerking so at that shoe lace! I don’t care if it is in a hard knot. Jerking like that will only make the knot harder. Now, I knew that you would break that shoe laceſ You would try the patience of Wil- lie ' You pick up that shoe and put it where it belongs at night! No, you cannot have something to eat before you go to bed. The idea of it! After all the supper you had ' What are you taking all of those things out of your pockets for? You put them right back! It would take a good hour to look over all of the things in your pockets. What under the sun, moon, and stars are you carrying around three dirty handkerchiefs for? And you were fussing yesterday because you couldn’t find a clean handker- chief! Now you hustle off to the bathroom and give those hands a good scrub- bing. You wish that you lived in a land where there wasn't any water? How long do you think that you would live there? You give those hands a good scrubbing! Use plenty of soap. Be sure and wash back of your ears. Use plenty of water. I never saw such a boy as you are, to think that you can get yourself clean with half a teacup full of water. Your towel isn't on its hook? I am sure that it isn't if you were the only one who used it last. Look for- And you call yourself washed already? Let me see your hands. Willie Smythe. The idea of you calling those hands washed! They will do for to-night, but you have simply got to wash yourself in dead earnest in the morning. I shall look after those ears myself then. Now you go to your room and to bed. It is a good three-quarters of an hour after your regular bedtime, and you know that mother always insists on you going to bed at exactly half-past eight, and the sooner you learn that you must mind your mother, the better. I don't believe that you have been in bed at half-past eight for a month. You can’t find your nightgown? Judg- ing from the rest of the stuff in your pockets, perhaps your nightgown is there. No, you shall not go to bed with- out it. You'll find it somewhere in the closet in your room. You found it? I knew that you would. I want that mut- Drawn by Clyde Squires. She (at the piano)- “How do you enjoy this re- frain º' He—“Very much. The more you refrain the better I like it.'" tering stopped It's the tenth time to- night that I have told you to stop mut- tering, and you know that when mother speaks she has to be obeyed Good- night, Willie! That's a pretty way to say good-night to your mother, isn't it? You most certainly cannot take a book to bed with you for a little while ! Burt Deane says he reads in bed every night? That is nothing to me. If his mother wants to let him do anything that foolish, she can; but your mother is not that kind of a woman. Get right into bed and put out that light. Such a time as I have getting you to bed every night, and I'll have a worse time getting you up in the morning. Got that light out? You'd better! Stop that whistling ! The idea of go- ing to bed and whistling ! Good-night, Willie' Dear, dear! these boys! Those Little Things. Puny little high-brows, Little bigots, too, Only call for patience And a kind skiddoo. Decided. “I’d buy a car if it weren't for one thing.” “What is that?’” “Having to look out for the other fellow.” “But if you had a car, the other fel- low would have to look out for you, also.” “Gee! I never thought of that! I’ll buy one.” Leap Year. She-‘‘Will you marry me?” He—“You will have to ask father first.” She-“I did; but he refused me.’’ The Woman of It. “Why do you spend your days and nights on these pictures?” asks the wife of the struggling artist. “You don’t get enough for them to pay you for the paint you use.” “I know, my dear,” he answers; “but think! Rembrandt and others painted pictures and sold them for trifles, and they are now the master- pieces of the world and bring mil- lions of dollars! I am not painting for us. I am painting for our descend- ants.’’ “Humph!” is the discouraging re- ply. “You don't make enough for us to afford to raise any descendants.’’ Aftermath. Ever since New Year's Day we have been in receipt of almost daily com- munications from Santa's twin brother, William Claus, better known to most of us as plain “Bill.’’ Model girls seldom serve as such. A MERE TRIFL.E. * FATHER, FERCY SAYS HE'S VERY MUCH WORRED ABOUT THIS INGOME.” * TELL HLM FROM ME, MY DEAR, NOT TO LET A LITTLE THING LIKE THAT WORRY HIM.” ºf THE LATEST DRESS SENSATION MIGHT PROPERLY BE CALLED, FROM ITS EFFECT, THE TURN STYLE. L'Envo of the Robbers. B, C A Rol. YN we LLS. HEN the Louvre's last picture is lifted and the Luxembourg stat- ues are pinched, When the Oldest Master has vanished and the newest canvas is cinched, We shall rest, and, faith ! we shall need it—lie low for a season or two, Till the work of the modern artists shall set us to work anew. Then those that made good shall be happy; they shall start on a fresh career, And purloin a ten-league canvas, with no one at all to fear. They shall find real art to draw from, hung on the same old wall; They shall take two or three of an even- ing, and never get caught at all. And only Lupin could praise them, and only Sherlock could blame; For none could be sold for money and none could be shown for fame. But each for the joy of the stealing, and each in his separate car, Speed off with the picture he's pilfered, in spite of the laws as they are An Undesirable Citizen. In the dusky twilight His Majesty sat at his front door fanning himself when a stranger approached as though in a hurry. “Can I get accomoda- tions here?” he inquired briskly. Satan peered at the visitor for a moment. “Aren’t you Colonel Roosevelt?” he inquired. - --- “Of course.” “Well, you can't be acommodated here,” exclaimed His Satanic Nibs, jumping up and slamming the door. “I’ve got things running in fairly good shape, considering the crowd on hand, but if you got in you’d be introducing some new order or other, and I’d never have another minute's peace again. Beat it, Colonel.” And Satan waved his hand outward towards the Eternal Elsewhere. What's in the Name? J is for joyous, as every one knows; U is for useful in fighting off woes; D is for dash—meaning brilliance and wit: C is for ginger, for greatness and grit; E means that everywhere JUDGE is a hit. Metallurgical. Doctor (after examination)—“Madam, you have a constitution of iron.” Obese patient-“I have often won- dered what made me so heavy.” Heard in a Carpenter Shop. By va McE C. CRIss. “It is ‘plane’ that I love you,” he began. - - “Is that on the “level’’’’ she asked. “Haven’t I always been on the “square’ with you?” he urged. “But you have so many ‘vises,’” she remonstrated. “Not a “bit’ of it,” he asserted. “What made you ‘brace’ up?” she queried coquettishly. “The fact that I ‘saw' you,” he re- plied, with a bow. “I ought to “hammer' you for that,” she answered saucily. “Come and sit by me on the ‘bench,” ” he urged. “Suppose the others should “file’ in,” she demurred. “Let me ‘clamp' you to my heart,” he pleaded. “You shouldn’t let your arms “com- pass' me,” she repiled. “I know a preacher who’s a good “joiner, ''' he suggested. “Promise not to ‘chisel’ him out of his fee,” she requested. “That wouldn’t ‘augur’ well for us,” he answered. “Shall I wear my “blue print’ ”’’ she asked, as they started for the license. Z O |- <ſ CYZ ^- ∞ Z ( | \\ wn car. ( Hºshan,t ºf the pſalſ, ſome Deterrent of Crime. By M, LANDBURG, H M I List, N. (Music for Prison Meals. Federal Convicts at Atlanta to have Popular Entertainment Each Day. - Nºw heading. HE CASHIER stood beside the safe And helped himself to bills; His getaway was neatly planned Beyond the distant hills. No thought of mother stayed his hand Nor dimmed his greedy eye; We whispered, “Music with meals'' – He put temptation by. your The desperado on the track Prepared to stop the train, And in some lonely desert cave To hide his ill-got gain. No thought of hardship or disgrace Availed his crime to check : We murmured, “Music with meals’’—- He ran away, by heck! your The man with murder in his heart "Yeside a brother stood, And planned to take the other's life With brutal hardihood. No thought of Cain or penalty Unnerved his hand that day; We muttered, “Music with your meals''-- He threw his gun away. No Wonder. Mrs. Gºvem—“What makes you so tired 2’’ Weary Willie--‘‘Heredity, mum. Me father was the original Tired Business Man.’’ Though Not Relished, A little lemon, now and then, Is good for some conceited men. ULTIM ATU M Stop it now, or ll wake your baby!" I 11, Order Obeyed. Willis– ‘My son much at college that I told him he must was spending so cut some of his luxuries. '' (, ill is—“Did he do it?” Willis “Yes. He writes me that he has been cutting classes ever since.” 4. The Stage. Stella—“Is her marriage announced?” Bella—“Yes; now it only needs to be denounced and renounced.'' Who wants to be as independent as a pig on ice " That never brings home the bacon. A Brilliant Adsmith. “You writing haven't got J. Jones Jinkins advertisements for you any more, I hear, '' remarked one business man to another, both good advertisers along different lines. ‘‘No, '' replied the other in a tone of strong disapproval, “and I’m glad of it.’’ “What's wrong with him '' stood he had taken a course from a cor- I under- respondence school and was thoroughly competent.” “Was he '''' And the other man spat as though something tasted bad. “Was he 2 Well, let me tell you what he done. I had a new brand of toothbrushes and I wanted something extra to exploit them all over, and I told him to go to it good. Next day in all the papers it showed up large and luminous, and at the bottom there was a line standing out clear which read: ‘If not satisfactory after a week's trial, return and get your money back.' Now, what do you think of that? Toothbrushes, mind you ! Rats ''' Another Duty. “You are my wife's social secretary 2” he asks of the beauteous creature who is seated at the small desk in the study. “Yes, sir, '' “I am sup- posed to take Mrs. Blirrup's place in as she smiles. many social details as possible.” “Well–er she coming downstairs this morning, and it has always been her custom to kiss me good-by when I start for the office.’’ doesn’t seem to be Thoughtſ, sº admirer- You 're looking splendid this evening. Success. 13, E1.1 is tº .1 tº N Es • ‘ I CAN truthfully say I am a suc- cess,” said the literary man who had hitherto kept silent. The others looked at his modest attire and tried to think of something he had written. “Yes,’’ he went on. “It enough for a business man to stay mar- ried when he is home only one day in the week, but I have been doing all my work is easy at home for nearly thirty years and I still have the same wife I started with.” The Woman of It, Of Course. “Jermalon tells me that his wife is very angry with you because you didn't keep your promise not to tell anybody what she told you about her sister-in- law,” says Mr. Pilfickle reprovingly. “Well, she has no reason to censure me,” asserts Mrs. Pilfickle. “I never confided it to anybody except you.” “That's just it, my dear. I hap- pened to mention it to one or two of the fellows downtown, and they spread it around until it came to Jermalon's ears, and he told his wife about it. I don't see why it is you women have to gossip all the time.’’ As Shelley Has It Not. I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden, I fear thy mien, thy tone, thy mo- tion– Methinks thine eyes are heavy laden With thoughts about this leap-year notion. - É--- É A F A U X P A S . Frenzied Finance. Little Jack Horner got a good corner On all the wheat supply; But the price of it fell before he could sell, And he said, “What a thickhead am I !” truth than There’s more poetry in some poetry. Boss–“What is the cause of this continual tardiness, young man º' Newly-ºved employee –” Well, I, er- um.” —have to button up the ashes, light the shirt- waist, and throw out the furnace before I can leave home.’’ (Deprecatory murmur from girl.) But perhaps it's the light !” Humorless Women The Wandering Willie had plentiful inward repairs at a generous received farmhouse half a mile down the road, and when he came to the next he might have passed on, but he was in still fur- ther need, and he knocked at the kitchen door. A kind lady responded to his knock. He was such a ragged specimen that her heart was moved before he spoke. “Why, you poor man ' ' she ex- claimed. “Corne into the house ! We haven’t got much just now, but you can have enough to keep body and soul to- gether.’’ ‘‘’Tain't that so much, lady,” he re- plied, sticking out a foot in a dilapidated shoe, “as it is something to keep upper and sole together.’’ He laughed at his joke, but the woman did not. humor. face. have no sense of his Women She slammed the door in His Specialty. “Do you speak several father?’’ “No, my son,” replied Mr. Henpeck, gazing sadly at his wife: “but I do know the mother tongue.” languages, The Fault. Nurse—“Yes, Johnny, the doctor brought twins.” Johnny—“Gee! That’s what we get for having a specialist!” Mr. Blowett—"I am connected with some of the most prominent families in the city.” Miss Sharp-" H-m. Telephone or gossip 2" Impatient guest—“See, here, waiter, how long is at steak of mine going to be?” Waiter—“About twelve inches, sir.” Irate teacher -" I never saw such a stupid child What was your head made for, anyway?” Scared pupil-‘‘Er-er-to hold me hat on, I guess.” “Your new cook is awfully tall, isn't she 7" Bunning—“What sort of game did you see the most “Yes; but I don't think she'll stay long.” of on your hunting trip 2'' Gunning—"Oh, hang it, poker, as usual.” A GAMBOL FOR HIGH STEAKS. Announcement of the New Woman's College. Prepared for the Principal by WILLIAM SANFORD, HE New College for Women; Mrs. Husbandketcher, principal. An- nouncement of courses: Freshman Year-How to cook eggs- boiled, fried, dropped, scrambled, etc. How to cook potatoes and other vegeta- bles. The art of repairing trousers and sewing on buttons. Goods to work on, in various stages of neglect, will be provided. How to stew prunes. The gentle movements of sweeping, as prac- ticed with efficient results. How to wash the elusive dish. Sophomore Year—Breadmaking. A scientific study of this art will be sup- plemented with a thorough course in biscuit, roll, muffin, pie, cake, and other pastry manufactures. The mak- ing of tea and coffee. The elementary stages of sock darning. How to cook beefsteak. Soup—a science. Junior Year—How to roast a fowl, beef, mutton, veal, etc., and to serve in an appetizing manner. Further study in bread, tea, and coffee mak- ing. Reading of extracts from the diaries of hus- bands, showing effect of good bread, tea, and coffee on the mind, as com- pared with poorly made compositions. Vivid comparisons. How to darn me- dium-sized holes in socks. Little thoughts about chops. pers on a husband's mind. a few remarks. The baby— Senior Year—How to prepare three good meals a day, with plenty of variety. Perfection in bread, tea, and coffee making. Extracts from the diaries of husbands, showing effect on the mind of three good meals a day, as compared with those poorly prepared. Vivid com- parisons. Twenty-seven different ways to serve onions, with similar detail on other foodstuffs. How to rebuild entire sock heels. Scientific lectures on baby, with models to work over. Mrs. Husbandketcher personally guar- antees that twice as many male eligibles will attend the first graduation as there Effect of wrap- are graduates. In order to avoid a stampede for wives, the eligibles will be bound to chairs and may be exam- ined before selections are made. Grad- uates with the best marks for the entire course will be allowed first selections, and so on down the list. Clergymen will be on hand in case any graduates wish to wed at once. Mrs. Husbandketcher personally guar- antees that eligibles will be docile in every way. Thousands of bachelors are now notifying the principal that they will remain single until the first gradua- tion, provided they may be allowed to attend and run a chance of being se- lected. It is expected that fully a hun- dred thousand names will be received before the awarding of initial diplomas. Mrs. Husbandketcher assures intending pupils that only the cream of the coun- try's eligible bachelors will be favored with invitations to be present. The New College will render leap year unnecessary. Irony of Fate. It is rather paradoxical to read of a number of per- sons having been killed in a life-insurance building. __* Jºmº-Tºorºollery ºf Laº The Language of Flowers. By CAROLYN WELLS. OUNG MEN who are timid or bash- ful may often express their senti- ments toward a lady by sending her a bouquet. To such we gladly give the appended information as to the meaning of the various blossoms, for nothing is more disastrous than to convey a wrong message by means of ill-selected posies. Apple blossoms indicate that the lady is the apple of your eye. Peach blos- soms signify that you consider her a peach, while daisies imply that you think her one of them. A rubber plant carries the pleasant message, “I like to look at you”; while tulips subtly murmur, “May I kiss you?” Stock means, “I have taken a flyer in Wall Street”; while a bunch of orchids, tied with violet velvet ribbon, declares, “I am in debt.” To be sure, one does not always wish to send affectionate mes- sages, and the reverse sort may be discreetly expressed in the language of flowers. Wall flow- ers signify that in your opinion the lady is not popular. Fox- gloves are merely a synonym for the old fashion, “mitten”; while, if you wish to break off entirely with the lady (and doubtless she will consider herself well rid of you), send her a spray of lemon verbena. Household Talk. Husband — “A fool and his money are soon parted.” Wife—“I haven’t noticed any of the fool about you for some time.’’ If and But make a poor pair to draw to. He—“Have you read my latest poems ? by you.” She- blame on me.” Habitual Training. In old China Y. M. C. A., To teach all the athletic tricks; Successful they’ll be at swinging the clubs, If we judge by their use of chop sticks. Poor Married Man. “The time will come,” thundered the suffragette orator, “when woman will get a man's wages!” “Yes,” sadly muttered a man on the rear seat; “next Saturday night.” With Them, but Not of Them. “Why is Jones so smiling?” “His wife has joined the Society for the Suppression of Unnecessary Noise, and he thinks now she will have to shut up for a while.” they’re building a NOT INSPIRED. They were inspired “Oh, Mr. Scribbler, I don't think it's fair to put the Children vs. Dogs. Apartment houses which do not admit young children are becoming more and more numerous, while those advertising that dogs will be welcomed with open arms are constantly increasing in num- ber. The railroad company that refused to transport children would soon find itself in hot water. The landlord who discriminates in the matter of the age of his tenants should be dealt with by legal injunction and forced to remove his unfair restrictions. Until there is a change in the present biological scheme of things, there must be children before there can be landlords and nerv- ous tenants, and that they must suffer and cause their parents to suffer the indignities of disbarment simply be- cause they exist and are so unfortunate as to be young seems a travesty on modern civilization. Not Up-to-date. The Queen of Hearts was mak- ing the tarts. “Hold on 1’’ we cried. “Have you got a sanitary bakeshop?” Sundries. Don’t think a girl will coo like a dove just because she is pigeon- toed. Optimism isn’t just grinning, but this is where most of us “get off.” “This is a dog's life,” yawned the vivisectionist, as he rolled up his sleeves preparatory to the slaughter. Money may talk, but it is usually a bit ungrammatical. A ring on the hand is worth two at the door. That will be about all now. C. G. NOSTERRAG, CHIEF of Derectives. [The managers of this department have employed a corps of sleuths, all of whom have proved their competency by passing examinations in the works of Sherlock Holmes, Burns, and other successful trailers, and by having watched for some time the operations of ferrets, bloodhounds, and muck-rakers. They are prepared to undertake detecting jobs of all descriptions. Terms on application. Nearly everything confidential. The results of a few recent in- vestigations follow.] CASE No. 496–This man has been a suspicious charac- ter for some time. Under the cover of a position as reporter on a weekly sheet, he is spending his leisure time in do- ing peculiar things, such as calling people names and refus- ing invitations to dinner on the ground that he is not hungry – an unheard-of condi- tion for a journal- ist to be in. When this man was re- leased from an in- stitution for the strong-minded four years ago, it was thought that he was entirely cured; but the relapse seems to have made him more violent than he was originally. His favorite unconcealed weapon, a mam- moth club, which was for some time in storage, has been shined up and put into working order. Hence the suspect is liable to become dangerous. He is 912 \- { * Case No. 496. self in his first race at the odds of 16 to 1, and finished on the back stretch. This man has a wonderful choice of lan- guage, but a poor choice of subjects. His inability to cross a platform without tripping has become notorious. He states that he will not be elected President of the United States next November, and this Service hereby reports that he is speaking sanely and truthfully. This subject is giv- ing JUDGE's Agency little anxiety. CASE No. 711 —Suspect has a dark past and a darker future, al- though he is by no means what is known as a dark horse. His first folly was to at- tempt to force knowledge in to the heads of a conglomeration of young men, when these receptacles were already crammed full of other material– a physically impossible undertaking which he subsequently gave up. Being a foe to the trusts, he attempted to de- plete the funds of one of them by having himself placed on a retired pension list financed by the trust's owner. This scheme not succeeding, he decided to vent his spite on the country at large by attempting to become its President. His aspirations are looked upon with Case No. 711. being watched by a great many others besides the employes of Judge's Agency. CASE No. 2323–This man is full grown, possesses a bald head, a livery stable full of hobbies, and a large quan- tity of hope. He is a newspaper pub- lisher, but, nevertheless, is said to be quite truthful. He has made many things in his life, among them being friends, enemies, mistakes, money, wills, excitement, and trouble. He has never actually made a donkey out of him- self, although he has attempted to make himself out of a donkey. He is some- thing of a runner, having backed him- Case No. 23.23. favor by his immediate family. This man is thought to be perfectly harmless and will not be shadowed any longer. CASE No. 6321 –This wily indi- vidual is engaged in stirring up foods, feuds, and fads. He has been seen by our detective with many dangerous weapons in his possession, among them being a microscope, a test tube, and a blue pencil. He occasionally becomes violent, and was recently seen to attack a mince pie, accusing it of masquerad- ing as a modern and harmless type, when in reality it belonged to the crust- acean period. This case will probably give us a great deal more uneasiness. 3'3C5'910 30 & Interesting Fact. * @ 9" (29. the double duty of working for EMARKABLE, is it not, that the areas occupied by English- speaking people in which suffrage has been granted to women are on or near the coast of the Pacific Ocean. This is the fact regarding the woman-suffrage States of our Union, and also of New Zealand and Australia. The cause cannot be traced to the air of the Pacific Ocean, for that air is breathed by women of the Orient, and in that part of the world the cause of equal suffrage, or of any suffrage, in fact, has not made noticeable prog- ress. Possibly it is because the newest of English-speaking com- *monwealths have location on and near the Pacific and are not bur- dened by respect for tradition nor social customs. My Dream Maiden. I loved a maiden passing fair, with soulful eyes and golden hair. She made her way into my heart, and in each dream she played a part. But, as the years rolled on apace, the time arrived when I must face the stern, cold world. I º ...”. *%. ºwn NJº %. - Z Z - ºntºwº º - º Z %2% Ž ºf: ºft --- % %2 % %/7/7 º % % %% “Votes for Women” and educat- ing its members to deal intelli- gently with the vote when it is given them. Mrs. Penfield, its chairman, is an indefatigable worker and a convincing speaker. That Suffragette. It is not recommendable To wed a suffragette. Her tongue is not dependable; She's quite too self-defendable. It is not recommendable, And yet—and yet—— A woman should be teachable — The tender, clinging vine; With gentle eyes beseechable, Red lips not too unreachable. A woman should be teachable, But mine—but mine Marriage, you know—be sensi- ble— Joins two in one. Woman is reprehensible, To think her sphere extensible— A notion indefensible, For man's the one. Of course it's undeniable That woman is divine, To sweet delusions liable, With heart extremely friable, Timid and meek and pliable; But mine—but mine— hit the grit and soon amassed a goodly bit of real, hard cash. And then my mind went to that girl I'd left behind. I hied me back to dear Bing- ville and found her on the old farm still. But, mercy goodness! what a change' Her manner was extremely strange. She had no time for idle chat, no time, to talk on this and that; she harped away upon one note, and this was it: “Let women vote l’” She led the woman-suf- frage crowd and oft held forth in ac- cents loud. But was she mannish? Not a bit! Her princess was a perfect fit, most dainty shoes encased her feet, and she was what you’d call petite. And did this maiden get my goat because she thought her sex should vote? And did I murmur and repine or shed a bucketful of brine because her chiefest of delights was to declaim on women's rights? Not sol I pressed her to my breast and in her ear my love confessed. Her rosy lips I fondly kissed, and said, “Be mine, sweet suffragist!” And then in manner coy and shy she dimpled, blushed, and murmured, “aye.” E. Jean Nelson Penfield. The Woman Suffrage Party is the largest suffrage organization in the city of New York, numbering, as it does, upward of forty thousand members. It alone is organized by assembly districts. Its formation on the lines of the exist- ing political parties enables it to do E. JEAN NELSON PENFIELD, Chairman of the Woman Suffrage Party of the City of New York. If I should go Republican And she go Democrat, Our home would be a bubbly can Of fizz and fret that doubly can Confuse a poor Republican On where he's at. Oh, it is man-ifestible To marry a suffragette Would mean a din detestable At meals quite indigestible. All that is man-ifestible; And yet—and yet— Who wants his wife a notable, To call out claps By lofty logic quotable? Were but her coffee potable, Her husband might be notable, Perhaps—perhaps. Besides, she’s not attainable, My little suffragette! Although it’s not explainable, My love is unrestrainable; But she is not attainable, Not yet—not yet. My darling is adorable, My heart's one shrine ! Her doctrine is deplorable, By doctrines I am borable; Yet, oh! she is adorable— And won’t be mine! -- Go Somewhere! By ELLIs O. JONES. O WEST, young man of New York 1 Go East! Go South ! Go North ! Go somewhere! Go anywhere and stay as long as possible. Forget that there is such a place as New York. You are ill. You are troubled with megalometropoli- tanism. You need a corrective. You need to find that New York, while the center of much, is the circumference of nothing. You are a slave of the New York idea. New York should be kept in its place. There is only one way to get along in New York, and that is to keep it under your thumb, to drive it with blinders and a curb-bit. Go away somewhere, far enough so that you can stand off and get a good look at it—a bird’s-eye view. You are sure to be benefited. After you have convalesced, you may come back, if you still have the desire; but do not be in a hurry. Nowadays. Drummer—“See here ! I want an in- vestigation at once | Some one went through my grip, ransacked my books, and turned my clothes inside out last night. It’s a plain case of robbery !” Hotel clerk—“Robbery nothing! The boys just wanted to find out if you had a membership card in the Anti-Tipping League.” Some Nevers. Never hustle for a job if you are not willing to hustle after you get it. Never listen to gossip. When in the company of gossips, do all the talking yourself. Never laugh at your own jokes, no matter how funny they are, nor faii to laugh at the jokes of your friends, no matter how dry they are. Gambling Ethics. The two gentlemen were in a New York street car—surface, elevated, or subway is no matter. Every seat was full, those at the rear of the car being occupied by well-dressed men. Pres- ently the car stopped and a woman came on board-very nice-looking woman, but not a fashion plate. “I’ll bet you what you like,” said one gentleman, “that not a man of them offers her his place.” “My dear sir,” responded the other, “don’t you know enough about the ethics of gambling to know that you have no right to bet on a certainty?” ---- wrºv-As A WRECKED ANGULAR FIGURE. rºll winſay: RETURNING WITH THE CHANGE. wir-r-Rs “FINE DAY" “RAther fresh ſ” Saving the Town. Visitor—“Was the Christmas mail heavy 2” Rural postmaster—“Haven't got it all out yet. I tell you, this town owes its lives to me. About the first of December, almost all the letters that come in here were covered with funny- looking stamps. I got kind of suspi- cious, and it certainly puzzled me till a New York drummer put me wise, tell- ing me they was tuberculosis stamps. Of course I knew that stuff was darned bad, so I just ups and confiscates the mail as fast as it came in. I’ve got it all out in the back room fumigating now. Pretty narrow squeeze, but I nipped the epidemic right in the bud.” Items of the Future. John Williams, a well-known mer- chant, returned to-day from a hunt in the Maine woods. He was not shot at once for a deer. William Digg, the famous millionaire, who has made such a fortune in certified soap, is now receiving bids for having his ancestors traced back. Again Those Little Things. By Roscoe GILMORE STOTT. Little jabs from Teddy, Bobbie's bursts of will, Although rather smarty, Never bother Bill. Little spats in Europe, Little warfares, too, Give our daily papers, through the me- dium of magic editorials, elongated dispatches, half-tones, maps, biog- raphies, suggestions, and weighty judgments, Something nice to do. Not Found. “First thing you do,” says the em- ployer to the new young man who has been engaged as a city salesman, “you go into the back office and take that desk the other man used, and see if you can get some order out of chaos.” An hour later the enthusiastic young man appears and diffidently reports, “Mr. Kimphlet, I am sorry, but I have looked all through the card index and the telephone directory, and I can’t find the address of Mr. Chaos, to solicit that order from him.” A Ready Reckoner. “My dear, how often do you leave off smoking?” “Well, fully as often as I start in again.” Time to Come Home. HE small town boy had been sent to a farmer uncle’s to remain for two or three months, but at the end of the second week he showed up at home, much to the disapproval of his father. “Why, Willie, what have you come back here for?’’ the parent inquired in no pleasant tone. “I sent you to your uncle's for a long stay.” “I know you did,” Willie replied; “but, you see, it was this way. The first week they killed a sheep, and we et that; the next week they killed a hog, and we et that; and yesterday the hired man died, and I thought it was about time to come home.” April First. Mother—“Why, what is the matter, Johnny? What are you crying about?” Johnny—“Teacher made me sit in her chair on the platform to-day, just be- cause I whispered once.” Mother-‘‘Well, I don’t see anything dreadful in that. You have had to sit there before.” Johnny—“But there was tacks in her chair to-day! I’d just put 'em there for her to sit on.” Trouble in the Chinese Republic. Mrs. Yung Lo (chairman of the Chinese Ladies' Militant Millinery Association) —“We demand Hats for Women!” The Hon. Sim Hi (member of the Leg- islature in the province of York Nu)— “I am an Anti-Millineryist and cannot conscientiously support you in a move- ment that is a menace to the nation. Nothing would take women away from home so much as the privilege of wear- ing hats; it would unfit our wives and mothers for their sacred duties. They would cease to know how to cook any- thing worthy of being touched with our chopsticks. Your demand threatens the foundations of the home. Our men have always worn the hats, and I believe they should retain the exclusive right. Be content with your happy lot as beings relieved of the responsibility of decid- ing what sort of hats you should wear. You are not yet intelligent enough to know whether to select a hat or a bon- net, a theater cap or an ear-covering toque. It will require generations of evolution before the members of the in- ferior sex are fitted to know the dangers they incur when they clamor for Hats for Women!” Incapable of a Doubt. When Senator Albert J. Beveridge first located in Indianapolis, he was en- gaged in the trial of a case in which his opponent was no less a person than the late Benjamin Harrison. The young man's policy throughout the case was that of the gadfly—he hung close about, buzzed, stung, made every attempt to attract the attention of his distinguished opponent—all to no avail. Harrison's attitude was that of utter ignorance of the young lawyer's existence. That he was really aware of it, however, was evidenced by a remark made to a brother attorney some weeks later: “It would be a good thing for that young man if he were occasionally visited by a doubt.” A Boomerang. Flightly—‘‘I played an April fool joke on the Many winter sisters.” Knightly—‘‘What was it?” Flightly- “I proposed to both of them the same day.” Knightly—"I don’t see much joke in that.” Flightly—“Neither do I. accepted me.” They both - NO E S C A P E . Penelope—“If you loved him, why did you refuse him at first?” Ariadne-‘‘ I wanted to see how he would act.” Penelope--" But he might have rushed off without waiting for an explanation." Ariadne-" Oh, I had the door locked.” LITTLE GEORGE WASHINGTON AS HE REALLY WAS. Junº's Detective Bureau has made a startling discovery. This picture was stolen early in the eighteenth century from a famous gallery in Philadelphia. showing that the art of taking pictures from galleries was perfected at that early date. It has recently been restored by the eminent sleuth, M. Emil Flohr. at great trouble and expense. The portrait proves conclusively the truth of the cherry-tree episode, and vindicates the authors of the ten thousand cheºry tree and hatchel okes that have appeared in Jupce during the last quarter century. LESSONS IN UNNATURAL HISTORY. The Monkey. 'HE MONKEY is a comical-looking specimen of an ani- mal, although probably a monkey doesn’t look any more foolish to us than we do to a monkey. (See Fig. I.) A real monkey is born, not made; but sometimes we see a woman make a monkey out of a man. It is a matter of pride with the monkey family that the human race is supposed to have descended from it—a proof that the mon- key is on a higher plane than the man. Monkeys can do nearly everything a man can, but most of them have better sense than to try. (See Fig. II.) They are philanthropic creatures and have been known to raise large sums of money in the interest of Italian music. They seem to have a great sympathy for that class of travelers whose life is a constant grind, and are often bound to them by strong ties. (See Fig. III.) Every child ought to know that a monkey is an anthropoidian, quadrumanous mammal, and that the Old World monkeys, either simids or cercopithecids, are catar- rhine. If you remember this, you will be able to distin- guish between the different brands of monkeys at a glance. A female monkey chatters twice as fast as a male. (See Fig. IV.) This is said by some to be one of the chief proofs of the soundness of the Darwinian theory. Monkeys are fond of nuts and will bolt them down eagerly. For this reason, perhaps, the useful device called the monkey wrench was named after them. (See Fig. V.) Monkeys are some- times entertained by fashionable people at dinners, where they may be distinguished from the other guests by the fact that they do not make foolish remarks. (See Fig. V.I.) Knowing these things about monkeys, children, you will be able to pick them out from among the other animals at / the zoo, provided the keepers will allow you to do so. (See - Fig. VII.) —Carleton G. Garretson. * FIG. IV. FIG. 725&22%222&3:2::"TIII % º-I III III - %2: $º - - 23rºż - ZººZººzzº 23 ºs ºr ºzººlºº &o-AZ --- {&ºº - - Fic. VII. L IT T L E T R A G E D I E S OF Ev E R Y DAY L I F. E. Infatuation. The Good Saint's Day. IRCUMSTANCES alter valentines. Sending only the one girl a valen- tine is the best policy. The ways of the anonymous valentine are past finding out. People who have faults of their own shouldn't send valentines. Too many valentines spoil the whole day for us. We are all known by the valentines we receive. No man is a hero to his valentine. It’s a wise valentine that knows its own sender. The jilted man clutches at a valentine. Valentines are sent us to show us what hypocrites we are. Solemnization. Dissipation. Osculation. Consternation. The comic valentine covers a multi- tude of sins. A little valentine is a dangerous thing. Send a comic valentine in haste and repent at leisure. Beauty continues to be her own best valentine. We love only once, but we manage to find a new girl to send a valentine to every year. The fool and his valentine are soon mailed. -J. J. O'Connnell. Friend—“Now, as I understand it, you and I, instead of having unequal wealth, ought to have just the same amount.” Socialist—“Yes — er—that is — how much have you got?” Constellation. Valentine Vagaries. Even comic valentines sometimes are humorous. Valentines are a first aid to weak- hearted suitors. On Valentine Day we see “oursils as ithers see us.” Men have been hanged for the per- petration of crimes far less offensive than valentine verses. Delivering valentines in the stone age must have been a man’s job. It takes a comic valentine to pierce the armor of dignity. Credit. Church trustee—“Did you occupy your last pulpit with credit?” New rector—“Entirely. There was never any cash connected with it.” - Vance c. crisis. A Future Financier. VERY nice young man was calling on his sister. To make things easy, he gave him a beautiful new penny, saying, “Save each penny, and soon you will have a dollar.” “I’ll soon have a dollar!” re- plied the boy, with great eager. ness. The young man smiled good-na- turedly, dug into his pocket, say- ing, “Well, just how much more do you need?” “Only ninety-nine cents.” He soon had a dollar. As Times Change. In days gone by, If I remember rightly, We d a n c e d l i k e t h is, And, oh! so lightly But now, when with a miss, we d” it sº A Deadly Weapon. The laundry workers in New York have gone on strike. It strikes us that this is a foolish weapon for them to employ, when they have so much more effect- ive and deadly weapons within their grasp. Let us suggest that if, by previous agreement, every citizen of New York found that on a certain morning he had to put on a collar with a saw edge, the laundry owners would find themselves in the hands of an outraged and tortured mob that would fight the workers’ battle for them. Unionism could be so much more powerful if it ex- ercised more intelligence. and, oh! so tightly Of all mean words we’ll ever know, The meanest are, “I told you so.” Reform Needed. Benham—“We need a reform in our banking system.” Mrs. Benham—“Yes; it's a shame that a wife can't overdraw her husband's account!” Not as Recommended. Uncle Eben-''You can take this old camera back.” Dealer—“What is the matter with it?” Uncle Eben-''It’s a fake. You told me I could take my own pictures with it, and I’ve snapped it over fifty times and it hasn’t got a pic- ture of me yet.” THE CHOICE. He—“Yes, I'm going to apply my talents; but I don't know whether to go in for art or for poetry.” She-“Oh, poetry!” He—“Oh, you've heard some of my verses?” She-‘‘No ; but I've seen some of your art.” Serious. “I would like to marry your daugh- ter, sir. I realize that this is a serious matter’’— “You bet it is, my son 1 Very serious ! You may have her, and the Lord be with you!” Jimpsy Tales. I.—HURT TIME. When Jimpsy has the colic, Then his soul begins to - Quake! It’s awful for a baby When he has a tummy- Achel He howls like forty kittens, And he doubles up his Fists 1 He wants to go to mother, And he wiggles and he Twists 1 But when the storm is over And the peppermint is Down, He is just the nicest baby, And the merriest in Town | Lifelike. Ted—“I’m going to send that old girl of mine a valentine —some- thing that depicts her in her true colors.” Ned—“From what I've seen of her, you’d better get one of those hand-painted ones.” An Ounce of Prevention. Divorce is reprehensible, And so is alimony; Yet both can be prevented by Avoiding matrimony. The apparel oft proclaims the man— in the very loudest of tones. T H R E E Z E R O S I N A L IN E . (Drawn with a sing'e line.) º AT THE GATE–THAT LITTLE WORD, “IF.” º º º º * Q -- º - &ThreateningWeather K. A" AN out-of-door meeting a dema- gogue was making a passionate plea for monkey suffrage, when an angel looked down from heaven and wept upon him. He lifted his eyes to the sky for a monient, then, observing the husband of his laundress occupying * - º - - - - - - - - a º Z ~ * * * liº; a seat on the platform, said to him in an earnest whisper, “Run home and tell your wife to take in all her washing from the drying line —I am about to advocate the initiative, the referendum, and the recall.” [3 AWeak Attachment El POLITICAL boss, who, having been eschewed by his party, was appointed to the highest office in the gift of its real leader, met a dog's tail, which was in an attitude of dejection between the animal's hinder legs. - “My unhappy friend,” said the de- posed boss, “what is the matter with you, and where does it hurt?” Ay AMBROSE BIERC WITH PICTURES 6y GEORGEL.GARLSON Fables in Pºlish “This ungrateful dog,” answered the tail, “has thrown me off—that is where it hurts.” “But,” said the other, “you are not off; you are on.” “Only stuck on,” the tail explained, cautiously attempting a deprecatory wag. “The beast's master did that.” Ever thereafter, when the dethroned statesman listened for the voice of hope, he heard only that of despair, reminding him that he was only stuck on. The NeW Method CITIZEN whose property had been taken by political thieves was be- wailing his untoward fate. “You meet and greet them socially, do you not?” inquired the observant neighbor. “Their crime is the greater for that,” was the reply. “Possibly,” said the observant one; “but it is also the easier. Henceforth, whenever you take the hand of a thief, a decent regard for the interest of your pockets requires that you keep it.” Always afterward, when the citizen took the hand of a thief, he was so re- luctant to let go that all thieves thought he loved them, and, by way of adding the charm of ingratitude to the advan- tages of thrift, they plundered him with a special and particular assiduity. The Kiné:2The Genius& A GENIUS who had built an airship was asked by the king why he did not send it up. “Alas!” replied the genius, sighing: “having lived a blameless life, I have no enemies to man it. Perhaps your Majesty will supply a captain and crew - | from among your own enemies.” “No,” said the king. destitute of enemies.” “I beg your Majesty to forgive me,” the genius said. “I spoke without re- “I, too, am flection. You also have lived a blame- less life.” “Well, no,” said the sovereign, thoughtfully scratching the royal head where it did not itch; “that is not just the way of it. The fact is, all my enemies have died a blameless death.” §§§ Threes ſº THE GREATEST man in a congres- sional district met a pig and had the condescension to say, “Good-morn- ing, my humble friend!” “Sir,” said the pig austerely, “I am the greatest hog in all this region''' As the two passed on, an adjacent philosopher was heard to murmur, “One small pair.” Nature, who had just completed a politician, an ass, and a dog, said, “Not good.” 7 -- º : - º - -" F.I. Casava *** **.*. º *::.. º º - - º º : º SIR LAUNCELOT RESCUES THE MALDEN FROM. Don Jon KEEP. Joh n n i e 's Prime r Less on . By HARROLD ski NNER. Topic—Guests. –A–B. Oh, see the cab! Will the cab go by Go, go! cab, go, T º RECIPROCAL. Grandma—“Why, Frederick, I'm sur- prised ''' Frederick—“It's mutual grandma. It's mutual.” No, the cab will not go by. The cab will stop at our door, and then it will go by. LOOK! LOOK! What is that fun-ny old thing in the cab'. Is it a wom-an going to the train? NO-00-00 ! It is a wom-an coming from the train. The woman is a guest. She lives in the country, some-times. What is the guest doing in the cab, then? Rub-ber-ing ! What is she rub-ber-ing for? She is rub-ber-ing for our number. She must have found it in the tele-phone book. SEE SEE I lit-tle throat! That is not a lit-tie throat. lit-tle neck and long. HOW - QUEER! Neck oyst-er? NO-OO-OO ! She is twist-ing her It is a She is a rub-ber neck Is she a Lit-tle" lob-ster! Ho, ho! She is stretch-ing her neck like a crane ! - Will she break her neck? Oh, no, in-deed! It is made of rub- ber. But she isn’t rub-bing any-thing, is she’ Not yet. into me. Is she com-ing to stay for three or four days? NO-00-00-00 ! The guest is coming to stay for three or four months. Why does she do it? GOODNESS KNOWS : She is wait-ing to rub it SHE IS. “Is the lady of the house at home?” Mistaken Identity. Some folks are everlastingly being mistaken for others. Governor Carey, of Wyoming, discovered, on a recent visit to a city of considerable size in New York State, that he was a dead ringer for the mayor. “The fact was further impressed upon my mind one night on the street,” Gov- ernor Carey goes on, “when, just out- side of my hotel, I was hailed by a large policeman, who said, ‘Mr. Mayor, may I help you home to-night?' I replied that I was feeling very well, indeed; and as the policeman turned away I overheard him remark to another patrol- man, ‘The mayor is certainly behaving himself better lately than he used to do.’ ” A CHAMELEON. “When I don't go out in comp'ny I'm so blue, and when I do, I get so red, cause I'm so green.” L [...][...] --- - A CHANGE NEEDED. "Come on in, Johnnie, you'd look better as a wash drawing.” ALWAYS THE SAME CRY. THE RED ABOVE THE GREEN. “Madam, this red hat reduces your years by about ten.” “Yes; and I suppose you'll add the amount on to the bill.” P O L I T I C A L P O S T E R S . THE POLITICAL STAGE. JUDGE-‘‘TAKE IT FROM ME, BILL, IT S A Will they get together? CINCH FOR YOU I’’ %. cº - */ erºº THE KATZENJAMMER. KIDs OF POLITICS HE IS NOT A CANDIDATE. º - - --- THE WHOLE WORLD IS DISCUSSING WAYS AND MEANS TO GET HIM DOWN. OWNER SAW IT FIRST. Noggs—“That's a very dilapidated umbrella you have there, old man Boggs-“You’re right it is unfortunately my best one was recognized.” PROOF POSITIVE. "Pardon me, professor, but last night your daughter accepted my proposal of marriage. I have called this morning to ask you if there is any insanity in your family?” “There must be.” Flat Life. HERE was an old wo- man Who lived in a shoe, And that she was crowded Is certainly true. She lived with her children; But, even at that, They found it more roomy Than many a flat. -George B. Staff. Domestic Troubles. Husband – “What’s the matter, dear? Why do you look so worried?” Wife—“Oh, I’ve just got everything all ready for Mrs. Meatleigh's visit. I’ve done up all the curtains and pillowshams and bu- reau covers and center pieces, and they're all spick and span.” Hus b and – “Well, if everything is in such ap- ple-pie order, why look so disconsolate about it?” Wife (bursting into tears)—“Oh, I just know, as soon as she sees them, she’ll know I cle an ed everything all up because she was coming !” More to the Purpose. Crawford–“I see there is a discussion as to the best place for a woman to keep her money without losing it.” Crabshaw – “What wo- men need to be taught is how to keep their money without spending it.’’ No Occasion To Sigh. If a body need a “fiver,” Need a body sigh, When a body can obtain it From an easy guy? Almost Perpetual Motion. “Some of these days,” remarked the serious man, “I presume that perpetual motion will be demonstrat- ed.'' “Well, if you lived in my flat,” spoke up the practical one, “you would realize that the family up- stairs comes about as close to it as any one can imag- -- ine. Gleefully the milk maids dance, 'Tis a pastoral truly, And it is not by simple chance That the calves become unruly. A Misplaced Delight. “There ! That is the true way to get inspiration from the sky and the cloud effects!” said the art teach- er, pointing to one of his pupils, who was intently looking upward from an open window. ‘‘ Grand Isn’t it?” he whispered, after reaching the boy's side. “Great!” said the stu- dent, still looking out. “Best spiced pickles I ever smelt! Wonder who’s cook- ing them, anyway.” Rather Large. There was a maid in our town Who was so wide and fat, An umbrella o'er her head Looked like a tiny hat. Same Noise. Mrs. Wayupp-‘‘She is clever?” Mrs. Blase—“Very. She kept her in fant three months in the Race Sui- cide Apartments by telling the landlord she owned a grand-opera phonograph.” Shifting the Graft. “How do you like run- ning your restaurant on the no-tipping plan?” “First rate l’’ replied the proprietor. “It enables me to raise the prices ten per cent. on the bill of fare.’’ Getting Back at the Men. Mrs. Crabshaw–“My husband says that women shouldn't have votes be- cause they wouldn’t un- derstand the tariff.” Mrs. Dorcas—“You just tell him that the men don’t seem to understand it, either.’’ Human Nature. Crawford—“Do you ap- prove of selling vegetables by weight?” Crab s h a w-‘‘Yes, if you'd get more that way.” PLAYERS WE MEET ON THE RIALTO. WHOEvº saw a photograph of Lil- lian Russell—at least of the head and shoulders of that sightly person– that men did not exclaim over or women envy.” Who that remembers her debut at Tony Pastor's a generation or more ago would imagine it is the same woman? Then she was slender, wil- lowy, big-eyed, and voiced for the suc- cess that has followed—thanks in some measure to the camera. Almost coin- cident the other day with her admission that she would be married again in the spring came the confession that she is fifty years old. Marriage may improve some persons upon repetition. At least it brings experience that can be bought in no other market. The spring episode will be Miss Russell's fourth marital venture—and yet she calls herself Miss, thanks to the easy fashion of the thea- ter. There is no serious suggestion that the stage is to lose her because of the new alliance, and she promises to go on spreading beauty on the public vision and keeping strictly to herself the means by which she has conquered time and is conquering mankind. LILLIAN RUSSELL. She still calls herself "Miss," in spite of several marital ventures. º: º: Who can indicate a greater foil to the modesty of genius than that furnished by Madam Maeterlinck, who has come to personify several of her husband's creations on the operatic stage here? One remembers that in Paris there were MADAM MAETERLINCK. Who personifies several of her husband's creations on the operatic stage. differences of opinion as between the producers of opera there and this really great author as to his wife's fitness to originate some of his roles; but perhaps that was all due to lack of managerial judgment, and her advent here may jus- tify Maeterlinck's artistic notions of his wife's utility. Surely, when a hand- some woman reaches this shore clad in leopards’ skins and wearing a diamond on her forehead, who shall deny that she is a genius? - - LILLIAN RUSSELLS LATEST ENGAGEMENT. MAETERLINCK'S WIFE'S COLOSSAL COURAGE. GABY DESLYS AS A REVOLUTIONIST. * And there is Gaby Deslys, one of the world's most potent socialists, whose favor turned a monarchy into a republic, as the story goes. There have been other women whose influence upon kings and potentates has made history and rendered the making of new maps of sections of the earth necessary. Think of the real democracy of this latest im- portation of the kind to this country, shown in the fact that all may see her for a standard price of admission There is no present danger that Gaby will turn this republic into a monarchy, although she may turn some heads that turn so easily as to suggest rubber con- nection or ball bearings. And she, in print, is telling women how they may be as pretty as she confesses herself to be in every photograph of her yet pro- duced, while there is no cosmetic of real value that has not enlisted her propa- ganda. Talent? Real talent? Why, that doesn’t matter so much these days, when there is so great a variety of other things that appeal on the stage. - - 2 GABY DESLYS. Whose favor turned a monarchy into a republic. Father's Definition. “NOW that you have seen the error of your ways,” said the young man’s father, “I hope that you will decide upon a new course.’’ “Oh, yes, I’ve made up my mind to do that.” “Well, what do you propose to do first?” “I thought I might make a good be- ginning by getting you to let me have about a hundred dollars.” “That isn’t a beginning. limit.’’ It’s the Heredity. “I knew her father when he used to go about with his trousers held up by one suspender.’’ “She must take after him, then.” “Why so?” “At the opera, last night, she wore a gown that was held up by one strap, over her left shoulder.’’ Qualified. “The man I marry,” she said, making no effort to conceal the fact that she considered herself a patrician, “must have a family back of him.” “Oh, I can fulfill that requirement all right,” he confidently replied. gone away ahead of any of my rela- “I’ve tives.” New to Him. After he had tried for a moment to get his key inserted in the keyhole, he stepped back and leaned against the side of the vestibule. Then he scratched his head in perplexity and said, “It’sh shtrange I never knew be- fore that we had one of theshe revolvin' doorsh here.” “Pretty close figurer?” “I should say so | She tried to get trading stamps with her Red Cross seals.” Tom and Puss. Dorothy was the sister and Freddie was the brother, but the order should have been reversed to have satisfied the characters of the two children, for Dor- othy was a scream, while Freddie was only a whisper. “Gracious, Dorothy l’’ exclaimed a visitor, after one of her audacious ath- letic stunts. “You ought to be a boy!” “I am boy,” she replied proudly; “a regular tomboy! Mamma says so.” “But Freddie is the boy of the fam- ily.” “Well,” she sniffed in scorn, “if he is, he's only a pussy boy.” - William J. Lampton. The Reason. On Nineteen Eleven we look with regret, For Nineteen Twelve's but a youngster yet. Every-day Buy Words. “What is it worth?’” A Bit of B a t t y B ot a n y. THE CHERRY. HE CHERRY is a very decent little fruit, said to have evoluted from the prune—something that it was per- fectly justified in doing. A Roman named Lucullus discovered the cherry when it was not doing very well, and introduced it into Europe, where it im- mediately bucked up and became re- spectable. One branch of the cherry family insists on being wild and has a penchant (pronounced pawn chaw) for Manhattan cocktails. You can sober up a Manhattan cherry by hanging it in the sun and letting it dry for a few weeks. After this treatment it should be fed to the chickens, as the children will not care for it. Those who contemplate propagating cherries in window boxes should choose a deep, light, loamy soil and a southern exposure. After the tree has been planted for a year, cut back each branch to about one foot in length. Encourage surface rootings by top dressings, preferably French or mayonnaise. If the cherries prove to be choke cherries, you should drive the tree back into the window box with a large wooden mallet and speak harshly to the florist who sold you the bulbs. Never attack your cherry tree with a hatchet, as this act would result in your being accused of plagiarism. When the tree gets one hundred feet high, it should be By CARLETON G. GARRETSON. removed from the window box, as it will obstruct the view of the families up- stairs and perhaps cause them to criti- cise you to the janitor. Candied cher- ries are fashionable confections appre- ciated only by the manufacturers. The cherry is best when perfectly raw. When done up in a pie, both the pie and the cherry are ruined. Maraschino cherries are of foreign extraction and are interchangeable at par with gold nuggets, eggs, and other valuable curi- osities. The class should now be able to tell a cherry, both anywhere and any- thing. Bibliography, any good unex- purgated life of Washington. The following sonnetine may be used with telling effect as a toast in the early stages of a banquet. You have the permission of the author to state that you composed it yourself. In fact, the author dares you to so state. Oh, cherry, in my cocktail deep im- mersed, I’d hate to be as pickled as thou art! I fear my power of speaking would depart And I'd appear, forsooth, quite at my worst. But, cherry, as I look at thee, I think How thou hast done a kindly turn to ne— Thou takest space that otherwise would be Booze-filled, thus tempering my drink. They tell me thou art going out of style, That folks of late prefer their cock- tails dry And cherryless. choose, but I Will still prefer thee swimming in my Let them thus “smile.” Oh, cherry, though thou hast a stony heart, I’m very prone to take thee as thou art. - - - - - - - - * m mm WHEN VELMA READS. When Velma reads the printed page Her thoughts are flying here and there; For hers, forsooth's, the flighty age— Her mind is everywhere, When Velma reads of course she thinks, Though little of her open book- She dreams of dances, skating-rinks, Of drive and quiet nook. When Velma reads the thought-waves rise In telepathic symphony. And each wave like a love-bird flies, Through barren space to me. When Velma reads! Oh, fairest boon! Her thoughts with happiness are rife, But she'll give up her reading soon, For she's to be my wife. —C. G. G. T H E H A T H E SH 1 ED IN TO THE RING - - *- - . º == – § - - ~p -/.2% -- - - -º-, º T-7–7 ºr "ſº - # º =~~~ º - `s A . /\ ºr. 67 m t # º *Rºl ! I. ſº - wº- Ill'1,1, º ºf , ; - i. II. | º º - ſº º *5- Egged on at Easter; or the Caprice of a Cruel Coquette. CHAPTER I. THE STRANGER's secret. * { IST tº These words fell from the lips of a tall, distinguished-looking man, rather commonplace in appearance and not over the average height, who glanced around the crowded aisles of Higgle & Sniggle's mammoth emporium, during a marked-down sale of colored chalks and a special drive in harness to mark the joyous Easter. What could it mean? Perhaps Edgar Eastlake, the elevator boy, knew. But, if so, he said nothing, except to glance suspiciously at the stranger who stepped into the elevator. “Dogcake department,” murmured the latter hoarsely. CHAPTER II. THE siREN's spell. Cora, the cash girl, was one of those faultlessly beautiful girls who have golden hair and peachblow complexions all seasons alike, regardless of the ex- pense. She was but a sub-cashier in the em- ploy of the great firm of Higgle & Snig- gle, but for twenty years she had been known as the cash-girl coquette. Whis- pers of her great beauty had been “‘DOGCAKE DEPARTMENT.’” By ROY L. McCARDELL. wafted abroad, and the haughty Duke of Dedbroke had sworn she should be his. He reckoned without Ed, the elevator boy, a lad who was bound to rise, and with whom Cora, the coquette, had plighted her troth. The duke had halted her now, and, as she was making change for a customer _\\{3. Zºś Lºſ Nº. 2/ na Pºrtkºen “‘For the LAst time, will You MARRY ME” ” during the rush hours, she was in no hurry and paused to parley with the nobleman in her usual blithesome way. CHAPTER III. From POVERTY TO THE PEERA.G.E. “For the last time, will you marry me?” hissed the proud scion of a race of belted earls—under Marquis of Queens- bury rules. “Are you a real duke?” she asked listlessly. For answer, he opened the dress-suit case he carried with him and took out his title, and, disentangling it from the soiled haberdashery in which it reposed, unrolled it before her eager eyes. One glance showed the heartless co- quette that the title was guaranteed by the Title Guarantee Company. “Aubrey, I am yours,” she whispered softly. And, faithless as she was fair, forgetting the troth she had plighted Edgar, the elevator boy, forswearing her promise to love him through all his ups and downs, she fled to become the proud bride of a ducal coronet. - - + + + + As for Edgar Eastlake, he said noth- ing; but, by his grim and determined air, it could be seen that it were not well if the Duke of Dedbroke crossed the path of the pale, imperious elevator boy. One day he disappeared, and it was rumored that he had become a plumber. “He will move in the same social circles as his royal rival,” his friends said sig- nificantly; “then heaven help Aubrey, the Duke of Dedbroke l’’ CHAPTER IV. EGGED ON AT EASTER. The years had waxed and waned, and once again Easter came with crocuses and chills, and Nature donned her new spring garments of green, and all over the world fair femininity was fain to be eke and likewise newly garmented. The fair Duchess of Dedbroke petu- lantly paced her boudoir in the east wing of Hankypank Towers, the old ancestral seat of the Dedbroke family. In vain the duke besought her to be patient. “Have I not bought you a duck of a bonnet, a bird of a hat?” he asked. !ºsº > -------- “‘HE UNRoLLED IT BEFORE HER EAGER EYES.’” “You only say that because you have seen the bill !” she said sneeringly. “Ha!” he cried. “You wrong me ! I only judged it by its wings. But does it not show that I have laid at your feet all that money could buy or refinement could wish?” “No!” Her eyes were blazing now. “You have squandered my dower, the change of a waiting customer, when I listened to your honeyed words. For you I threw over Edgar Eastlake, the elevator boy, and crushed his proud spirit. For you I came away from the glad glamour of my girlhood days in Higgle & Sniggle's Mammoth Empo- rium; and what is my recompense? I am immured in a moldy old castle”- here she paused and added impressively —“the plumbing of which has been con- demned ''' The duke mused a moment at these cruel and cutting words. “I care not for the consequences!” he said, with bitter emphasis. “Aye, even if it means a tiled bathroom and hot and cold water on every floor of Hankypank Towers! She must—she shall be happy!” And, crossing the room, he seized the bell rope and yanked it violently. “Send for a plumber, and at once ''' he said, with tense earnestness, when the answering menial appeared. A D a y i OHNNY wakens, cheerful— Playful little cub – Nursie filling, clear full, Johnny's morning tub. Johnny, quicker than a flash, Throws her in, to hear the splash. Breakfast bell is ringing; Johnny takes his place. See him gayly flinging Mush in mamma's face! Papa shakes his head and glares; Johnny throws him down the stairs. n CHAPTER V. FATE IN FUSTIAN. “Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Ha, ha!” These words were uttered by a man clad in diamonds and a cardigan jacket. It was no other than our old friend, Edgar Eastlake an elevator boy no more, but a proud and prosperous plumber, esti- mates cheerfully given. . CHAPTER VI. THE WEAVING OF THE WEB. Little more remains to be told. Un- able to pay the bill brought in by Ed Eastlake, the demon plumber, the Duke of Dedbroke saw a mechanic's lien put upon his ancestral halls of Hankypank Towers. At the sale the property was bought in by the ex-elevator boy—now a plum- ber beyond the dreams of avarice—and in a few weeks the last of the Dedbrokes had drank himself to death like a gentle- man, although the papers said he died of a broken heart. CHAPTER VII. THE DEADFALL OF DESTINY. Ere yet another Easter brought the blossoms of springtide, Ed Eastlake Off to school with Willie, Fearing to be late. Johnny, acting silly, Brains him with his slate. Rattlesnake in Johnny's desk; Teacher's antics picturesque. Homeward through the village, Johnny turns his toes; Arson, theft, and pillage Cheer him as he goes. So to bed, at close of day, Wearied with his childish play. &= - cº- \ º ~ º - wedded the fair Cora, Duchess of Ded- broke. With the wealth at her new husband's command, she assumed the position in society for which she was so eminently fitted and for which she had so long aspired. Yet there are some who hold, even now, that it was all a deep-laid plot, in which Aubrey, the last Duke of Ded- broke, was the dupe. But who can read a coquette's con- science or a plumber's purpose? THE END. Fashion's Penalty. The tears were raining down his face; The wife feared 'twas a desperate case. “At last! At last!” the husband cried. “I’ve washed my face—it must be dried No Turkish towels on the rack; They’re in your gown—alas! alack' Thus to your shoulder now I flee, To wipe my face. Well, don’t blame me!” Barely Noticed. “What did Miss Dashington wear at the dinner party?” “Blue. I dropped my napkin and was able to look under the table.” “Paw, what is an optimist?” “An optimist, my boy, is a woman who thinks that everything is for the best, and that she is the best.” the L if e o f a Child. Reader, if this sounds absurd, If you rather doubt my word, If you scornfully insist Such a child could not exist, Buy a paper, Sunday meat— Yellow paper, lurid text— Read the comic section through! See if I have lied to you! -Deems Taylor E A S T E R W O R S H I P A Leap-year Man to His Father. Coteswold-in-the-Hills. EAR FATHER—When you pawned the last piece of the family plate in order that I might be suitably ap- pareled for the Van Dyrck's house party, I realized that something must be done. I did it. Last night, in a dim-lit corner of the conservatory, Senatoress Bardick laid her name and fortune at my feet. The sudden relaxation was too much for my overwrought nerves; I cried a little, and she took me in her arms Caught It. One evening last week, when I called on Babette, I found her with whooping cough badly upset. She said, “It’s unpleasant, now, take it from me!” I did—and I’m whooping this morning, you see. A Good Reason. Jab–“Why do they call this brand of buttons “Old Maid's Wedding’?” Dab–“Because they never come off.” Presenting the Pessimist. By CHARLES C. JONES. The pessimist is a serious sort of person. He attends all funerals in spir- it—even as the little old woman in the black bonnet and shawl attends them in person. He proclaims to anybody who will listen that the coroner has sat upon hope, and that hope is deader than Pokeville on Sunday afternoon. Yet, in the gloomy shadow of the belief that there is no more hope, he hopes for the worst. He is the acme of inconsistency. If any pessimist ever and kissed the tears away, believing that I wept with happiness. Though the Senatoress— Betty sounds too familiar —is more than twice my age, she is hale and hearty and very distinguished in appearance. Also she is brainy, chivalrous, and has a reputation for clean-liv- ing almost as good as that which she would demand of the man she married. Ru- mor says that she was per- fectly lovely to her first husband—that he never had a wish ungratified. At love-making, the younger women are miles behind her. Gallant, solicitous of my comfort, exquisitely tender in her expressions of sentiment, she gauges my moods so accurately that she is never too ar- dent, nor yet too cold. I should not be surprised if I fell in love with her. Senatoress has promised that I shall not have any her. domestic or paternal cares. -- º - º - ſº HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL. While we have not set- hi tº-" I am positive George loves me and intends to make me in a hard knot and looks - 11e. - - tled everything yet, the 1S 7... " Why? Has he proposed yet?” over his shoulder to see if Flora-‘‘No, but he dislikes mother more every time he sees managed to get by Saint Peter—who was himself a pessimist of parts upon one occasion, but refuses to crow over it—he would kick because the light from his halo hurt his eyes. It is also probable that many pessimists complain of too much light in the other port of missing men. The pessimist is sure that love is a delusion and bitter to the taste. He is just as sure that there is no such thing as love; yet he is, and has always been, in love—with himself. There never was a sin- cere, consistent pessimist; because, if any pessimist be sincere enough to be consistent, he discovers im- mediately that he cannot be a proper pessimist with- out being optimistic about the possibilities of pessim- ism. When this happens, the pessimist ties his face anybody caught him at it. In other words, a pessim- ist is an optimist who is We are to live at the Scal- dorf-Wastorious, and travel as much as her official duties will permit. She is to settle a million dollars upon me, and I am to retain my latch-key and as much liberty as the conventions sanc- tion. jealous, as old wives usually are of their young husbands. I'm sure she will be good and kind to me, and I shall make her a dutiful hus- band. So we ought to be happy. Good-night, dad. You can sweeter dreams, now that my future is assured. Your affectionate son, Percy. She solemnly promises not to be have Another Line of Business. “For years and years I wrote poetry,” remarked the affluent-looking stranger. “I wrote it until I was forced by cold and hunger to take up a commercial line.” “What was that?’” “Writing verses.” Careless. He thought his little gift would please. It only made her sore– He hadn’t taken off this tag, “From five and ten cent store.” afraid to laugh at himself. Watered Stock. “Yes, I was once a member of a stock company that was put out of business in rather a curious way.” “How did it happen?” “We had put on a tank drama, and one night the tank burst, nearly drown- ing everybody on the stage.” “Another case of too much watering of the stock, eh?” • It is rumored that the little German babies call for their “mudder” “fodder” at the same time. and Bachelor—“There goes the Rev. Hitchem : know him 2'' - * M A D E A N E N E M Y . A Dramatic Critic's Confession. IM A CRITIC of the drama. The absorbing panorama On the stage enacted nightly do I wit- ness sans expense. Sometimes sadly, sometimes gayly, I review them in my daily. It is mine to make or break them—I’m a man of consequence. If I’ve had a royal dinner, I am apt to dub a winner The show that I attend that night, no matter what it’s worth; But if pained with indigestion, There is very little question But what my criticism will of mercy show a dearth. I'm a man of moods a-plenty, I possess eighteen or twenty, And so I’m not responsible for many things I say; But my catchy style of writing Is satirical and biting, And people like to read my stuff, though brickbat or bouquet. So I boost 'em and I roast ’em, And the public—well, I post 'em. Each word I say they swallow, and ac- cordingly they act. Managerial ensemble Do I cause to fear and tremble (And sometimes they approach me with diplomacy and tact). But I’m mostly on the level, And in raising hob I revel; I love to crowd the theaters, or empty them, at will. And I'll make this revelation– It's my own great reputation That is first to be considered. And my conscience? It is nil. - Knarf Remlap, NO DESSERT. Guest—“When was this chicken killed ” Waiter—“We don't furnish dates with chickens, sir. Only bread and butter.” º º <- - º - - - º, º £º: º - º º: ** * * - * - º - º - --- f 724. º -ºº: -- - : º - * * – - º ---. - t |r - - - - - -N ºr º yº - - …sº -- - º - t - 7 - \ Xº, - \ sº sº. º * º - _* SK, º: - º º S. º - § - º - º - º º º º º gº s sº lºſs tº ((r ºx-º-º-º: * S #3: I º sº - # - Benedict—"Not since he married me to my present wife.” Looking on the Bright Side. “George,” she cried, putting her arms around his neck and sobbing upon his breast, ‘‘something awful has hap- pened ''' “There, dear, don't worry!” he re- plied, patting her tenderly on the cheek. “What is the trouble?” “The judge has decided that my former husband is to have possession of the chil- dren.’’ “Never mind, dearie. Think cf the joke it will be on his wife I’’ There's a Reason. Coy—“How few people attended the funeral of Dr. Pillman l'' Roy—“Well, they do say that most of his patients went before him.” A Table d'Hote Dinner. Now, one fine day, young Tommy A. Took Mamie R. to dine. Each appetite was keen, oh, quite And everything was fine. Tom still ate steak when May had reached Her demi-tasse cup. Now, say, how long d'you think it took For Tomatoketchup? -Grace Pomeroy. <------ wº- --- - - º ---- tº hº Keeping People Guessing. * - I AM not a candidate.” “But, colonel,” I protested, “I don’t give a rap whether you are a can- didate or not; I want to know whether you will be one.’’ “Great Scott!” he retorted, with evi- dent displeasure. “Haven’t I told you plainly that I am not a candidate?” One Better. Nip—“Bones is speaker of the house, and only thirty!” - Tuck—“That’s nothing! My wife be- came speaker of the house as soon as I married her, and she was only twenty- two.” Debutante (being introduced)—“Par- don me! Is it Miss or Mrs. de Long?” Old maid-‘‘Miss-–by choice.” B L IND TO T H E W OR L D . A moment's respite from the pressure of business. Pastoral Limericks. A maiden yelept Adelaide To climb up a peach tree essayed; I chanced to be there, And I really declare That a very good showing she made. - Another one, known as Hortense, Attempted to scale a high fence. I was passing that way, And I really must say She displayed very poor common sense. - A lady's red skirt was turned toward A bull who terrific’ly roared; I saw it, did I, And remarked with a sigh, “That skirt will be beautifully gored ''' - A lady, decidedly fat, In a hammock contentedly sat. I was motoring by, And this comment made 1, - “There is really quite something in that!” - c. G. G. He Got a Job. Editor—“You seem to think that, be- cause you were the champion hammer- thrower at college, you could fit into a magazine office. Why not try a black- smith shop?” Applicant-“I thought you might need me to help throw the poets down- stairs.'' Fountain of Youth. Lovely woman is resourceful; When she finds she's badly mated, She hastens to Nevada, Comes back happy, Reno-vated. Impractical. Coombs—“He is a very ingenious in- ventor.” Nallins—“But exceedingly imprac- tical. safety attachment for an electric chair.” His last creation is an automatic L E A P J Y E A R S T A G E F O L K S W E A D M I R. E. LILLIAN LORRAINE, (With Eddie Foy, in “Over the River.”) Lillie, a source of unending deſight, Bewitching of figure, as spry as a sprite "Twixt you and your charge there’s no difference at all, For 3. are yourself a most beautiful 011. CHRISTINE NIELSEN, in “The Wedding Trip." Merry maid of many wiles, .. We like your ways, we like your smiles. This ºf: of which we’ve heard so much. Has surely gotten you in “Dutch.” - - ANN MURDOCK. in "Excuse Me." No need to ask “How old is Ann 7" Your youth doth quite enthuse me. That coal-black hair and profile rare Fill me with-oh, excuse me ! - SALLIE FISHER, in "Modest Suzanne" A winner are you, modest Sallie, with checks like the rose of the val- cy; In the matter of fun You're a hit and a run, In fact, a home run and a tally. -- | | º! % ºw § * * * º ` zº \ f º -º-M y-W & \ | ~ | - º \ . . . yº º --~~ R º Tºº - T- tº Nºtº º º º // |\ 3. * ***** S º|º º 2.0% º I N P U R S UI T OF H A P P I N E S S . IVE taken my lore where I’ve found it; I've read an’ I’ve ranged in my time; I’ve 'ad my pickin' o' poets, An' four o’ the lot was prime. One was in Sufi apparel, One was a club-footed Beau, One was a parson named Carroll, An' one is a man I know. Now, I aren't no 'and with the poets, For, takin’ it all along, You can’t write like them till you've tried it, An' then you are like to be wrong. There's times when you’ll think you’re a genius, There's times when you’ll know as you’re not; But the things you can lift as their pages you sift Will 'elp you along quite a lot! I was a young 'un at writin', Shy as a kid to begin; A poet named Flynx got me goin', An' Flynxy was clever as sin. Then I fell in with R. Browning— Some of 'is meanin's was dim— But 'e came up to time with "is rhythm an' rhyme, An' I learned about writin' from 'im. Then I run up against Shakespeare– 'E wrote quite jolly, I thought; They called 'im a bard, an' I studied 'im 'ard, Till some tricks of caught. Kipling was also some useful, An' Pope, though 'is poems was prim; But the way was more clear when I piped Edward Lear, An' I learned about writin' from 'is trade I had 'im. Then, next, I grew sort o' romantic— Yearned 'long o' Shelley an” Keats; Jes' fairly wallowed in Swinburne— Reeled off the drivel in sheets. T he P o e t s . (with compliments to Mr. Kipling.) By CAROL YN lººk 1 Lis. Come 'long a feller named Dobson— He knew how to tinker an' trim An' another man came—we won’t mind 'is name- But I learned about writin' from -- 1nn. I’ve taken my lines where I’ve found 'em, I’ve ravaged my favorite shelf; But the more you 'ave loved of the others, The less you will care for yourself. V e. - FA Gº, g c UNDER DURESS. He—“I often kissed you when you were a- baby.” She –“Well, I couldn't help myself then.” An' the end of it’s sittin' an’ scribblin." An' dreamin' of great things to be; So be warned by my lot (which I know you will not), An' learn about writin' from me. What did the editor gentleman think? Nobody never knew. Somebody asked the office girl, An' she told 'em true. When you get to a pome in the case, They’re like as a row o' pins— For Mr. John Milton an' a spring poet liſtin' Are brothers under their skins. Back to Childhood, Nit! A member of Congress from Ohio– nameless here by request—was com- plaining about his health. “What’s the matter?’’ friend. “Oh, I don't know. I’m nervous, I guess, and I have the worst kind of time getting to sleep when I go to bed.” “Why don't you try the childhood method of counting sheep as they jump the fence? That will put you to sleep, all right." - “I’ve tried it, and it won’t work.” “Why not?” “Well, you see, just as soon as I be- gin to count the sheep I get to thinking about Schedule K, and then sleep is out of the question. -- One. inquired a Give me an easier About. “What did Gabbley talk about, at the banquet last night?” “It seemed about three hours.” C. G. NOSTERRAG, CHIEF of DETECTIves. [Since the institution of this department, we have been overrun with requests to undertake the solution of public and private mysteries. We must draw the line somewhere, so would state that we shall not restore lost husbands, find mates for spinsters, or attempt to point out those guilty of bringing about the high cost of living. We shall here- after confine ourselves to laying bare the secrets of the cap- tains of industry, politics, literature, and scandal, and feel sure that if we do this thoroughly the entire time of our able corps will be utilized.] CASE No. $100,000,000—Not a member of the Socialist party. Commenced life without a cent in his pocket, April 7th, 1837. Soon had to have ac- c or dion-pleated extensions built in all his trousers. Was never known to make any mon- ey, as he preferred to let others make it for him. Has a lºw a y s suffered from the disease of reorganization- itis, having reor- ganized every - thing from Sunday schools to a bil- lion-dollar steel corporation. Can ride for nothing on fifty thousand miles of railroads and fifty-seven different varieties of steamship lines. The only work he has ever done has been in the line of collecting furniture, pictures, books, rugs, and other sec- ond-hand chattels. Much of this merchandise he has stored in the American Museum of Natural History, Metropolitan Museum, and other fireproof buildings. He could sell these things in any good second-hand store or pawnshop, but does not seem to need the money. Some time Case No. $100,000, 000. this case is a mystery. He has never had his picture in the rogue's gallery, nor has he been apprehended in any crime more serious than occasional assaults on the risibilities of grand jury investigators. His ambition to die poor may be looked upon as a species of insanity, but it is of a harmless type. By working evenings this busy man has succeeded in writing a number of books, and, contrary to precedent, he had no trouble in finding a publisher for the first one. These books may be found on the shelves of nearly all our public libraries, and feather dusters or vacuum cleaners will be furnished by the attendants. His attempts to ruin the gun- powder industry are looked upon with disfavor by the manufacturers of that commodi- ty, and they may have been the source of the order for this investiga- tion, as it was re- c e i v ed mously. anony- CASE No. 8654 — This man first began to make trouble in Prim- rose, Wis., in 1855. During the first year of his life he yelled and found fault con- stantly, and he has been at it continually ever since. He was found guilty of having a father named Josiah, but it was proved later that this crime was unpremeditated. He dis- liked hard work, so took up law. Later he fell still lower and became a politician. Having taken a course in manual training when a youth, he made himself useful by helping to frame the McKinley bill. He did a very artistic job and obtained special mention in his home - - --- ~-7- Case No. 8654. ago he built a large hospital in New York, but, finding that he had no personal use for it, he presented it to the public. He saved up during an entire year and bought a yacht, with which he won a spa- cious cup, an ornamental receptacle that is convenient in any household. This serv- ice has shadowed him for some time and found him sober, honest and a very pres- ent help to his country in time of trouble. CASE No. 71265 – Nationality, Scotch. Occupation, steel and philan- thropy. Hobbies, golf, libraries, peace, and repartee. Why JUDGE's bureau should have been employed to shadow Case No. 71265. paper. Later he was sentenced to the capitol of Wisconsin, where he served a term of seven years, being released in 1905 for good behavior, and at once broke into the Senate at Washington. The Senate took his little joke good-na- turedly and taught him to do clever tricks for their amusement. In 1908 he had a narrow escape from being nomina- ted for President. fected him strangely, causing him to commit his most serious offense, that of giving public concerts with the aid of his own horn. This agency is attempt- ing to have him placed under bonds to keep the peace. This experience af- THE VEIL. The veil some wear in coquetry, To hide the eyes—and yet they see : To shroud the face as in a mist, Yet showing lips that should be kissed. But this fair one, 'tis plain to see, is now, or very soon will be A bride, whose veil cannot disguise The happy meaning in her eyes. ----- - NTRY RUN. IS EXPERT WITH THE GLOVES. KNOCKS A HOME RUN EVERY TIME AT BAT. WINS CROSS COU SWIMS TWENTY MILES. At House WORK- A DEMON AT BASKET BALL. ESTABLISHES A RECORD FOR BROAD JUMP. BUT WEAK - O N E T Y P E O F T H E M O D E R N C I R L THE MODERN CHASE. The mythic maid who love's chase lost For golden apples on the way, And wed her victor as the cost, Was not like maidens of to-day. The fair ones now full willing are When men of matrimony sing: And each will run both fast and far, And seize with joy the wedding-ring. NEARLY CORRECT. “Look at the airyplane, Josh ''' " Tain't no airyplane, Ezek; one o' them incorrigibles, I think they call 'em.” An Up-to-date Reason. By Cha RLEs c. Joves. CANNOT sing the old songs- The songs of long ago; My heart cries out for bold songs— Familiar songs, I know. But I don't sing them ever, All blissful as of yore; From them I'm forced to sever, And thus it is I never Poetically soar. For Phyllis dotes on flying, And so, with head awhirl, I see—all else denying— The aviator girl. But lest, where wings are sting- 1ng, She fly from me some day, I’m forced to cease all singing And learn to do my winging In the new-fashioned way! Cursory. A huntsman called on Hodge to settle for damage done by a run to hounds, and found only Mrs. Hodge at home. “Has your husband,” he in- quired, “made an examination yet?” “That he have, sir!” replied Mrs. Hodge, with a curtsey. “Rather a cursory examina- tion, I suspect?” “Oh, dreadful, sir! Such lang- widge I never heerd—never!” And the good woman held up her hands at the bare recollection. Definitions. Weather — A convenient handle with which to take hold of a conversation. Collar Button—The pivot around which a man's toilet revolves. Sausage—The link be- tween man and beast. Corsets—The straight and narrow way. Ragtime Music—The uni- versal slanguage of man- kind. A Woman’s Hotel—Ahen- coop. Thoughts—Things for which we would be arrested if they were known. 1912 Weddings—Examples of the efficiency of leap year. Vaudeville–The hash of the dramatic bill of fare. Foods—Groundlings with aeroplane ambitions. Spring–The muzzle sea- son for young poets. Age—The sediment clogging the pipes of the fountain of youth. Newspaper Enterprise. City editor—“Hi, Sims' Sims (the reporter)—“Yes, sir.” City editor—“Go down to the hotel and interview that magnate and get his denial of the interview at the same time. Scoot, now !” “oh, MAMMA I HERE comes A sandwich.” An Elaborate Dinner. “Was it an elaborate dinner?” “Very.” “Plenty of champagne?” “Flowed just like water. wasn’t the chief display.” “That so? Were the favors unusual?” “They were of solid gold. But what really attracted the most attention was that there seemed to be an unlimited supply of butter.” But that Sonnet to My Waiter. Oh, minion, fleet as Mercury of old, Who greetest me with smile and scrape and bow, Thou art a man of mighty skill, I vow; Insistent, yet not freshly over- bold. Thou sayest, “You really that must choose, And this to-day is cooked ex- tremely well’’; And, though my eye on cheaper eats would dwell, I dare not thy suggestions to re- fuse. I would not have a waiter think me striall Or well-nigh broke, for then, mayhap, he’d sneer Behind my back. I have a mor- tal fear Of waiters' scorn. I can't stand that at all. Come here, garcon; you've really served me right. Please take this tip. it home to-night!) (I'll foot “This is a dead beat,” said the cop, as he made the rounds of the cemetery. And it came to pass that the graves yawned. Be a ut y a n d Gen i u s in the The a ter. The Magic of Maxine and the Necromancy of Sarah. MAXIME LLLIOTT WHEN Beauty exerts her charm on the stage—the noun should always be feminine—the critical notion that “art” should dominate dissolves in the witnessing mind, unless some atrophied critic, obsessed by younger memories, should be inclined to cavil at it. What do we know of the Peg Woffingtons, the Mistress Bellamys, and the Mistress Bracegirdles beyond what the enthusi- astic portrait painters of their times have handed down to posterity? There are women on the stage to-day that type these and other physical marvels of the past, and they do not require to be strictly or dominantly artistic to be ac- claimed—as long as beauty lasts. An example? Well, who can say that Maxine Elliott shall not figure to future generations as the belles of the stage of older time figure to this generation? Miss Elliott has been prominent ever since she divorced that versatile dabbler in matrimony, Nat Goodwin. She was accepted in the theater before the Good- win episode for a dazzling beauty; and Goodwin is a connoisseur. In the light of her physical radiance, critics—as well as the public—forgot to think or say anything very definite about her histrionism. Miss Elliott has long aspired to be “just an actress,” and still–in the intervals of her holiday- making-aspires to be one. Where is she at the moment? Possibly coming back from the Durbar, to become an in- cidental ornament of which she was invited by distinguished persons not remote from royalty. What should she care, really, whether she is accepted as an actress or whether the mass privi- leged to do so merely gazes upon her and is thrilled by other means? Her more domestic and hardly less handsome sis- ter, Gertrude, is appearing in a play called “White Magic.” What a term that might be for the beauty of a fair woman Maxine's name identifies a million-dollar theater in this capital. She maintains a great city house up- town, so near Fifth Avenue that it as- similates the atmosphere of that proud thoroughfare. She has a mansion in London, and her entourage might excite envy in the favorite of an Eastern poten- tate. White magic, indeed! And yet there are women who get along very well on the stage without inspiring portrait painters to depict mere beauty or causing the public to forget that really there is something else legitimate to the theater. Who, for instance, will care to refrain from seeing Great-grandmother Bernhardt when she comes again next year, as probably she will, to renew her impres- sions of America and the revenues of her son Maurice? On May 20th, 1880, as she was breaking the traditions of the Comedie Francais by leaving that historic institution to earn more money —she received there but thirty thousand francs a year—she remarked that the thirty thousand might do very well for persons “who will play twenty years, forty years, or fifty years"; but that when one did not want to grow gray at the theater, it was necessary to earn more “and to live more rapidly.” She asked if she should be one of these peo- ple “in twenty years,” and said she didn’t want to “grow old before the footlights.” Ah, vanity, vanity! And yet Bernhardt is almost as young in spirit as she was thirty years ago, when she was moved to climb the masts of ships, to hunt big game, to fondle a growing tiger as other women would a lapdog, and to sleep in a coffin. One still hears of manifestations of her SARAH de RNHARDtº artistic temperament, but the tiger has grown up and naturally has been ban- ished from the boudoir. The coffin? Well, the years work wonders. Those Auto Horns. Oh, these auto-squawkers' noises! From their tooting and their shrieking Soon we’ll lose our equipoises And asylums we'll be seeking. Honk horns with their bulbs of rubber We can stand; they’re not infernal, But we're prone to sob and blubber When from sleep, in hours nocturnal, We are waked by raucous whistles; And we long those auto drivers To o'ertake with leaden missiles And with tortures dire and divers. When they reach the lower regions And have ended earthly revels, Let us hope that many legions Of Old Nick's assistant devils Each will take some sort of hooter, That on earth now all the rage is, And forminst their ears will toot 'er Down through all the coming ages. - A - T H E N F X T S T E P 2 - E • * g-rººfiñº "|" º º -º-º: º Tu-āv **) - -- = exº~~ tº ſº. Lº: -- */ \ . N. º - - - º COAST DEFENCE OF THE FUTURE–WINDING OFF A FLEET OF HOSTILE AIRSHIPS Un cle Sil a s & 4 AOWDY, Silas?” said Lem Gil- strap, the postmaster and gen- eral merchant of Stringtown, as the per- son addressed entered his emporium. “Heerd ye went tew the opery while ye wuz tew Noo York visitin’ along Hiram’s folks.” “Wall. I shud calklate I did,” said Uncle Silas; “en I wunt never fergit it —no, sirree ''' “What wuz it like? Can't ye tell us abaout it?” Lem asked. This suggestion was echoed by a half-dozen other Stringville citi- zens who were grouped around the comfortable-looking stove in the rear of the store, where they daily congregated in the winter season for the mental recreation gotten from the interchange of profound ideas. “What wuz it like?” repeated Uncle Silas, seating himself on an inviting and centrally located nail keg. “It warn’t like nothin'. It wuz the tarnationest lot uv crazy carryin’s on thet I ever heerd tell on. Cum purty nigh supper-time, Hiram, he sex tew me. “Dad," he sez, ‘I hev tew tickets fer the opery to-night; but ye can't wear them cloze,” he sez. “Ye'll hev tew hev evenin' cloze.' The near- est thing I hed tew evenin' cloze wuz night cloze, but I sez, ‘I’ve got a biled shirt in the valeese thet yer ma done up last year. Go e s I’ll put thet on, en turn my vest back under my gallusses, en pin up my black meetin' coat soz it'll look Jest like yourn.' I sez. But H1, he sex we'd hev tew go to a costoom rentin' place en hire one. “Wall, I facund one thet wud a fit me fine ef it hadder ben 'baout six sizes bigger. The pants wuz so tight yew * , uſu "in lſº lºse tº --~~ ºr "...ºf | *śr º º | I’ve only hed it on five er six times, en it hain't dirty yit, " I sez. Both – "Gee! what a nerve he has.” . to G r a n d O per a . cud see my verricose veins clean through 'em, en the sleeves uv the coat quit so high up et purty nigh all uv my knit wristers wuz showin’. Ef they’d a ben white 'stid uv red, it wouldn't a ben so bad. 'Baout eight o'clock Hiram he hired us one uv them taxin' cabs. They wuz a little dingus onto it tew tell us haow far we wuz travelin', en I'll be durned ef we didn’t kiver eighty miles in less’n ten minnits. Jee- rusalem, haow them things kin scoot! “The opery house wuz purty nigh full up when we got thar, but the manager knowed Hiram en I wuz comin', I reckon, cuz they'd kep us tew good seats. The manager, he sez. “Cum right down in the or- chestry'; but I tole Hi I didn't want tew set with the fiddlers en all them so the manager he giv us seats in the front pew instid. He sez, Ere, gentlemen, you're in Hay.' Thet made me a little mite mad, but Hi, he sex the feller wuz & an Englishman en hed his aitches dislocated, and thet he meant A I wuz sorry thet he hed tew be managin' when he hed thet trouble, | but I didn't say no more abaout it. “Wall. they wuz a woman set- tin' in front uv me thet purty nigh spilt the hull opery. When she'd tuck off her coat she'd made a mistake en took her waist along with it. She hedn't a stitch left onto her back but a pair uv silk galluses, but she didn't seem ter keer a durn. I thot mebby she wuz so excited 'baout seein’ the opery thet she didn't know what she’d done, en I wuz goin’ tew tell 'er; but Hi, he sex tew leave her alone, so I hed tew set thar en watch the show over her bare back. I’d a hated tew see Mirandy set- tin' thar like thet. “Then the opery commenced. It wuz the drattedest thing I ever see. The actors en actresses kep' singin' while they wuz actin’. You cud a heerd them a-singin' frum yere up tew Stringtaown Corners. Hiram, he sex the name uv the opery wuz “Twist 'Em en a Sol- dier," er sum sech fool name like thet. They didn't sing no toons. en one wouldn't wait 'tell another got done. Sometimes they wuz six singin' tew oncet, all different. One fat feller nigh busted, he got so mad at a woman 'et kep' sing- in when he wanted her to quit. I reckon he wuz full. They say them actor folks drinks like fishes. Sometimes most on 'em 'd go aout, en leave one feller en his woman. Seems like they wuz lonesome, cuz they'd com- mence bawlin' en kissin'. It didn’t do 'em no good tew try tew talk, cuz they wuz foreigners, en cudn't onderstand each other nohow. Them folks kep' up --- - º | | THE RETURN OF THE DOVE-A. D., 3824 their didoes fer nigh onto three hours, en I got tarnation sleepy; but ever oncet in a while some one'd let out a war-whoop. then I'd open my eyes en glanct at thet woman's naked back in front uv me, en the shock'd keep me awake sum time. * CAB, SIR 1 CAB 2'' “Wall, they got tuckered aout en quit arter a while, en I wuz glad it wuz over. I heerd the woman in front uv me say tew her man, ‘Isn't Gatticazzazi a lallapaloosa?’ So the poor woman, I see, wuz crazy as tunket. Probly she didn’t know she wuzondressin' thetaway, en her man orter hev told her. “Opery may be grand fer them as likes it, but I’d ruther hear our choir daown tew the meetin' house sing, “When the Roll Is Called up Yender,’ then tew hear en see all the grand operys they is in the hull kentry.” Diamond Dust. The first step of bachelors to secure better quarters should be to look around for better halves. Keep a friend—don't marry him. None but the braids preserve the hair. Beauty that is not skin deep will rub off. It is often true that the dentist feeds himself better with your teeth than you do yourself. It Usually Does. “Has marriage brought about a great change in Bilkins?” “No: it has made small change.” HOW AGGRAVATING. Brown- “l saw a man drop twenty stories the other day, and it was a caution the way he swore." Greene—"Swore after dropping twenty stories 2" Brown-"Yes. They were in a magazine he had just bought, and he dropped it in the mud." H O M E. F. R O M T H E M A S QUE R A D E. Why Books Multiply. N THE first place, Scribbleton writes a book called “The Hus- bands of Lucy.” It scores a big success, and a reporter from the Daily Grind interviews the author. Other reporters come, till the writ- er begins to wonder why he can- not do something in that line him- self. He gets out another volume, “How I Came To Write “The Hus- bands of Lucy.’” Then Littleman Lackcopy publishes one entitled “The Home Life of Scribbleton, Author of “The Husbands of Lu- cy,’” and Susan Spoilpaper takes her pen in hand and produces ‘The Character of Lucy: Is She Typi- cal ?” Next Albert Alsoran comes out with “Scribbleton—An Apprecia- tion,” and J. Jumpupp calls his “Is Scribble to n Overrated?” Scribbleton is pretty sure he is not overrated, and he likes the taste of royalties; so he tries again, calling it “Moonlight on the Highway: A Sequel to ‘The Husbands of Lu- cy.’” In the meantime Oliver Goldsmith Sneakaround has pub- lished “The Debt Scribbleton Owes to Wrightenwell.” After a while Scribbleton dies and his wife breaks into print with “Some Unfinished Stories by Scribbleton, Edited by His Wife.” Isaac Inkslinger per- petrates “The Scribbleton I Knew,” and J. Jones Gumshoe “Scribbleton’s Love Affairs.” The reporter who first wrote him up steps to the front with “Scribbleton and Other Celebri- ties I Have Interviewed.” Then appear “Scribbleton's Place in Literature,” by Book- worm Research, and “Scribble- ton’s Letters,” by Brons on Bodysnatcher. There is no knowing how far it might go, but, fortunately, a new author appears, whose book makes even a greater stir than Scribbleton’s; so Scribbleton and “The Husbands of Lucy” are relegated to the background, for the present at least, while the crowd goes through the same performance with the new man. - walter G. Doty. Soft drink turneth away guests. |- ~ - - º ". |- N *º ~ - -- - º -- º ſ/ rºº Zºº ºw- 2 --- ſ?= Nº. - <= ſ! - º jº º 4. - -2// ** 2*/ W.2 ſº - THE WORM AND THE BUTTERFLY. º Sºś sº: - Sºº-º-Fou-ER-t = - - S- " _- - - ---> -- --> -- *~ SATISFIED WITH HIMSELF. Scarecrow (proudly)—“Ha! I can even scare the big ones away.” The Passionate Aviator. (Three hundred years after Kit Marlowe.) Come, fly with me and be my love, And we’ll skyhoot through realms above; We'll sail as high as we can go— For love on land is now too “slow.” We'll take a spin among the stars, And spend our honeymoon on Mars; Then, when the year gets round to June, We’ll do our spooning in the moon. For us Niagara has no charms; Mundane resorts are “false alarms.” Let others hike to hills or bay— We’ll skim adown the Milky Way. The Evening Star shall be our lamp, And Sirius shall guard our camp; Orion shall be there to keep The Bears from breaking up our sleep. In wind-swept space we shall enjoy Our love without earth's base alloy. So fly with me and be my love, And we shall all the pleasures prove. -John Northern Hilliard. New Variety. Barely had the caterpillar set- tled himself to eat, however, than he was touched on the shoulder by an attendant, who held out a plate in a significant manner. “What!” exclaimed the cat- erpillar indignantly. The attendant pointed to an indicator. “This,” quoth he quietly, “is a taxicabbage!” Any Port in a Storm. “But, George,” said Mrs. Bjones, “I cannot go to the thea- ter with you to-night. I have nothing to wear.” “That’s all right, dear,” said Bjones. “Put it on and we’ll go to the opera.” Method in Their Modesty. “Aviators appear to be a modest set.” “They probably appreciate the truth of the adage, ‘Pride goes before a fall.’” When Money Took Wings. Comedian – “Did the ghost Walk?” Soubrette—“No: it was an aviation comedy, and the ghost flew after the first week.” www. - * * * **** * * Cº. , 2-s / º Nº Nº º / º - /ſº - Carlson_- LOVES WEHICLE 3y J. A. W.A L D R O N HEN Love his shining mark has set For happiness on maid and man, No opposition ever yet Their plans has foiled since time began. That fervid phrase, “Oh, fly with me!” Has similars in every tongue. It voices Love's emergency Whenever sighed, whenever sung. Eloping always is a game That lovers play to lead the van. Pursuers either pull up lame Or figure with the “also ran.” Love's purpose in the olden days Laughed at the drawbridge and the moat, For there are always many ways To get the opposition goat. No night so dark, no road so rough, No sun so hot, no day so cold, But that the lover bold enough Can conquer troubles manifold. And on the backs of fiery steeds Full many a pair has got away, While wagons and velocipedes Or other means have won the day. In arctic regions dog-sleds glide The fur-clad couples on their way; And on the backs of camels ride Your desert lovers as they may. No land lacks locomotive means When lovers make their plans to flee, And naught effective intervenes To head them off by land or sea. But lovers now more favored are Than lovers were with cruder aids. For many use a motor car And scorch away to happy glades. And those who in the future fail To find a horse or catch a train Will simply look aloft and hail Some traffic-seeking aeroplane. Variations of an Old Maxim. Eternal activity is the price of pub- lic notice.—The Man Who Knows. Eternal straddling is the price of a second term.—The Present Incumbent. Spring Love Song. Model 1912. Oh, love, my love, let us away Along the pleasant roads of May, To view the vernal scene New-model cars bloom freshly fair, While mingles with the balmy air The smell of gasoline ! Come, love, my love! The honk- bird calls Away from city streets and walls . To rural stream and mead. Youth's gay abandon in the blood, We’ll saunter forth by field and wood At fifty h. p. speedſ Or, love, my love, if haply you Some newer curves prefer to do, My duoplane I'll bring, And, rivaling the sylvan elves, We'll do some Ariel turns our- selves, This jocund morn of Spring ! - Frederick Moxon. The world exacts exorbitant space rates of advertised Virtue. Eternal contribution is the price of immunity.—The In-bad Interests. Eternal invention of new issues is the price of existence.—The Party Leaders. THE WHOLE WORLD TO THEMSELVES. Eternal importunation for votes is the price of citizenship.–The Voter. Eternal diligence is the price of the price.—The Consumer. - Louis Schneider. Womanly Intuition. Mrs. Flatleigh – “The new family upstairs have a lot of money, but they used to be very poor and ordinary.” Mr. Flatleigh – “How do you know? Have you called on them?” Mrs. Flatleigh—“No, but there was a half-eaten broiled lobster and a whole Camembert cheese in their garbage can on the dumb waiter this morning.” A Soft Answer. He (triumphantly, reading from a newspaper) — ‘‘‘Suffra- gist speaker heckled by geese at a county fair.’ Ha, ha! Even the geese are against woman suf- rage, my dear!” She (c on temptuously)— “That's be cause they are geese.” * Nº ºn º - - Ž * - - - Ž º Ž º 1492 1912 T H E R E T U R N V O Y A C E . A L i t e r a r y Ex p o se . VERSE riveting and joke hammering have been regarded for a long time as intellectual tasks, calling for genius bordering on the occult. It's about time to strip pretense and come out with the solemn truth. Anybody can rivet a verse or hammer a joke. It's easier, far easier, than mixing a fruit cake. To write verse you provide yourself with pen, ink, paper, and a dictionary of rhymes and synonyms. Proceeding to the first step, you dip your pen into the paste pot. Quickly discovering your mistake, you wipe it off and try the ink. - Then, consulting your rhyming diction- ary, you set down terminal words, as, for example: blue sky you eye true die. You then start your metronome, or, if you haven't a metronome, the tick of grandfather's clock will do. Measuring your feet and accent by the clock's tick, you fill in thus: Your nose is red, your eyes are blue- As blue as summer's sky; I think that I could marry you And never bat an eye. If this is not exactly true, I hope that I may die. The first six or seven times you may have difficulty making the sense hitch; but, like driving nails or playing a piano, that's merely a matter of practice. Af- ter you’ve got the hang of it, after you’ve learned to differentiate between a couplet, a triolet, a quadruped, and a sonnet, you simply sit down any time by HENRY EDWARD WARNER. you’re not doing something else and rat- tle 'em off. Joke hammering is a distinct trade, allied with verse riveting only as a sort of second cousin. It is a trifle more difficult, unless you get into the swing of never writing anything really funny. If you write anything funny, some edi tor will go and buy it, and, of course, that spoils it as a joke. To hammer a joke, you just think of something funny and put it in (a) con- versational form, (b) verse, or (c) nar- rative. To get ideas, make a practice of attending serious sessions of sages, such as the American Association for the Advancement of Science. Take al- most any sentence in a patriotic speech, separate it from the context, and you have a joke. Another fruitful source of merriment is the home circle, as fol- lows: 1. Mother-in-law coming to visit. 2. Wife waiting upstairs on club night. 3. Sister bribing small brother not to tell suitor about her hair and hips. 4. Cook thinking g-a-s-o-l-i-n-e spells coal oil. Example: Mrs. Smith—“Mother is coming to live with us, George.” George Smith—“Oh, joy!" Now, you see, that is a real joke, the idea being that George doesn’t want his mother-in-law at all! And, again: Eve—“If you don't behave, I'm going home to my mother!” Adam—“Aw, g’wan! no mother!” You ain't got Garden of Eden jokes like the above sell readily in a low market. But it's just as well not to push too far back into Biblical history, because the present generation may recognize only its fa- vorite authors. Generally speaking, poets and jokers are born, not made. For that reason, some people favor race suicide. Referring again just for a moment to verse riveting, attention might be called to several distinct advances in rhyming words, product of the decade. For in- stance, home rhymes own, love rhymes enough, pose rhymes clothes, lemon rhymes woman, man rhymes ham. You won’t find these examples in Tom Hood's little book, but you'll find them in the lyrics of “Everywoman,” and the comic opera and musical play lyrics are full of them—which is sufficient authority for any twentieth-century poet. This expose is necessarily short, but we stand ready to challenge doubters and produce cumulative evidence that verse riveting and joke hammering are easy trades and not, oh, very not, at all difficult. (The author will give lessons to be- ginners; guaranteed course by mail; verse or joke mangling, ancient or mod- ern; pupils must furnish their own hypodermics.) Esprit d'Corps. A flutist who joined a drum corps Played his part out of time morps and morps, Till the drum major said, “Please remember, dumbhead, That the time is toot-two, not forps- forms "' A Youthful Solomon. A school inspector asked the children if they could quote any text of Scripture which forbade a man having two wives. One of the children sagely quoted in reply the text, “No man can serve two masters.” º - lºs # ºasiºns lººpſ - - - - - *…* 2% Rº: - - - - - ALLOWANCE FOR BREAKAGE. C. Abler-" I wish to send a cablegram in Russian. What are the charges?” Operator-" Four dollars a word and damages.” I | º II. / - “John, get me my pocket-book, like a dear. W H E R E I T IS . If it isn't on the kitchen table, or in the cut-glass bowl on the sideboard, you'll probably find it under one of the sofa cushions in the sitting room.” The Vinculum Wife Insurance Company. EN, attention Is your wife in- sured? You insure your life, your house, your motor car. Why not your wife? Do not delay! Insure in our company' - This company is incorporated under the laws of the United States and is controlled by a capable board of di- rectors, including some of our best known novelists and playwrights. Eligibility: Every husband of sound body and sound mind (except for the slight trace of dementia shown in get- ting married at all), and whose replies to the appended questions are satisfactory, is eligi- ble to membership. Prohibited risks: Men who are married to suffra- gettes, to bridge fiends, or to members of the theatri- cal profession are not eligible, and their appli- cations cannot be consid- ered. To obtain a policy, subscribe your answers to the following questions: Are you (a) handsome, (b) fairly good looking, or (c) plain? Are you of a jealous disposition? Do you give your wife enough money? (a) From her point of view? (b) From yours? Do you always let her have her way? Do you ever contradict her? Do you compliment her cooking? Do you compliment her clothes? Can you hook up her gown without swearing? A RANK JOKE. Do you let her buy your neckties? Do you ever praise other women in her presence? Do you employ a lady stenographer? (If so, state her appearance. Append photograph, if possible.) Do you bring her flowers and candy as often as before you were married? Do you call her pet names? Do you let her buy all the hats she wants? Applicants answering these questions satisfactorily are entitled to policies in our company. So far we have taken but few risks, but we are prepared to swing a large business if we can secure the policy-holders. Address, V in culum Wife Insurance Company, Darby Benedick, Agent. - Carolyn Mºells. Never trouble “bub- bles,” or “bubbles” 'll trouble you. ! 2 º -***- *º NOT O V E R R E A C H IN G . / ſºn “Tommy, are you tall enough to reach that package on the mantelpiece P’’ "Not if it is my cough medicine.” OHN SMITH, president of the colony of Virginia, 1608–1609, was a mem- ber of the proud and exclusive Smith family, of which only eight million three hundred and forty-four thousand six hundred and thirty-two members were living at eight o'clock last night. He was a descendant of Black Smith, one of the early English iron magnates, whom Longfellow has celebrated in his verse, “Under the spreading chestnut tree.” Little is known of the life of John Smith except what was written by him- J o h n By ELLIS PARKER BUTLER, self, and this, unfortunately, reads like an autobiography prepared especially for publication in “The Prominent Citizens of Scott County, Iowa.” There seem to be touches of a vivid and untamed imag- ination in John Smith's autobiography. Whenever he came to a dull spot, he thought up something interesting and put it in, thus making his story thrill- ing and likely to be a best seller. An autobiography of this sort is snappy, but wouldn’t please Mr. Roosevelt. John was too prone to take the cold S m i t h . facts and wallop the hide off them. He was the sort of man that could go to church to hear a missionary, and come home and tell his wife he had been to the North Pole and got tangled in the equator there, escaping with his life only by grabbing the equator back of the ears and breaking its neck. For that reason, I, with many other eminent authorities, am inclined to look on his story of Pocahontas with suspi- cion. I have studied the eight existing (Continued on page 19.) -a------> --- º, - IT DON'T TAKE TOMMY'S MOTHER LONG TO PUT TWO AND TWO rator TOGETHER. § 3 & 1910 9 & . Political Rule of Woman. By IDA HUSTED HARPE.R. A CANDIDATE for the Nobel prize, given for the greatest service to humanity during the year, announces his claim in the New York Sun of re- cent date. He has made a discovery' “The reason the woman suf- fragists are spending so much money and making so much noise is because they are striv- ing for the greatest prize this country affords—the political control of men.” How are they going to get it? Just read the census returns. “In 101 cities of over 25,000 in- habitants and in seven States are more women than men, and they could take command whenever they chose if they had the vote.” And, alas ! they are not so well prepared for statesmanship as men, he says. Of course men are dis- playing great “statesman- ship’’ in their management of our cities—but let that pass. “Woman suffrage is an ex- pedient for changing this coun- try from a man-government to a woman - government,” says this rival of Dr. Cook in the field of discovery. Well, why not? After men have had the upper hand for 130 years, isn’t it women's turn? But would they get it, even through the ballot? The census report of 1911, which naturally the alarmist didn't know was available, gives a ma- jority of about 2,692,000 men in this country, and a surplus of women in only Mrs MAY WILSON PRESTON, A successful artist and ardent suffragist enthusiast. five States. It also shows that this sur- plus is steadily decreasing. A not her anti-suffrage scarecrow bowled over ! Gone to join its little brother, who chanted the refrain for half a century, “Women wouldn’t vote if they had the suffrage ''' A. ONE-SIDED DEVELOPMENT The Logic of the Voter. “Oh, my dear Mrs. Suffragist,” said the politician, “we men would be glad to give the vote to efficient and capable women like you; but how would you feel when your cook took a day off to go to the polls?” “I have not experienced much diffi- culty in that respect,” replied Mrs. Suf- fragist. “He has been voting for sev- eral years.” Literary Suffragism. Little anti- climax 7” Suffragist teacher—“The mayor who asks a delegation of modern club- women ‘if their husbands know they’re Out - - - pupil—“What is an > \ 9. º © 9 @ ºl. What She Wants. 'Tis not alone the equal vote she’s asking, Nor equal right to govern her affairs, Nor privilege to gain a freer tasking Outside and in the home—in all she shares. 'Tis not to shirk her part as wife and mother; 'Tis not to ape the man– and work alone— Neglect one precious duty for another— Usurp his work and thus re- nounce her own. It is to share the freedom of the nation. - She challenges the boast that we are free, While half the people have the regulation Of what the other half shall do and be. So it is to feel, indeed, the freedom— To have an open field—to make her choice— To be admitted to the nation’s household, On equal footing and with equal voice. On Dit. Mr. Roosevelt's next cam- paign problem is: What sort of saddles ought to be used by the women voters who join Rough Rider campaign regi- ments in the suffrage States? y It is rumored that the antis who have survived defeat in California are worried lest the gender of the Pacific fleet's men-of-war be changed by legislation. Well, they must worry about something. Mrs. PEARCE BAILEY, President of the Equal Franchise Society of New York, and an important contributor to suffrage literature, Twixt the Gºpaid the Lip. - A man, a miss. Ecstatic bliss What could be more divine than this? 'Tis not amiss that he should kiss, And yet it is, forsooth, a miss. But paradoxes do abound Where'er the god of love is found. " There's many a slip 2" It matters not, Whene'er lips meet the cup 's forgot. A C on sum er's View of the St a ge. NEARLY everything printed about the stage has been written from unimportant points of view. There is a mass of flubdub from the professional critic, often done in collaboration with the manager of his business office. There are the views of actors, which, were they only half as sincere, would be “scratch their EARs with their hind LEGs while the PRiMA DoNNA is trilling.” worth about as much as a manicure's. There are confessions and complaints from stars and soubrettes; reminiscences from producers, describing how they managed on any amount of capital from a shoestring to a small fortune; and reams and reams of views, reviews, and interviews, for which the sole responsi- bility rests with press agents. But never is there anything from the con- tingent most concerned, that honorable legion to which the Rest of Us belong —plain persons known as consumers. This is what's the matter with the stage: 1, Playwrights; 2, actors; 3, critics. Battered and honeyed in all of his waking moments by representatives of these three extra-eloquent profes- sions, the producer is deceived into be- lieving them real sources of informa- tion about what we consumers like to hear. Then, as if to make sure of de- luding himself as completely as possible, the producer loves to scatter a heavy- handed claque around in the audience, and thus keep himself from discovering whether or not the consumers are ap- plauding. If it weren't for our box- office reproofs, the poor fellow wouldn’t have a chance in the world to guess at the facts. By CHARLES PHELPS CUSHING. It is nothing short of marvelous that, in spite of all these barriers on the trail to truth, a few producers have been sus- pecting lately that you and I are a little dissatisfied. And that is why, in an earnest attempt to please us, they have taken to slaughtering important stage traditions. Thus we have seen Belasco scourge the orchestras from his theaters, to give us the play tune-less. Just be- fore each act he had a half-pay xylo- phone artist run the scales on some Japanese dinner chimes. The effect was to make the consumers hungry. Then he would ring up the curtain instead of serving something to eat. Bernard Shaw believed he was getting close to our innermost when he deleted the ten- der sentiments from his manuscripts and gave us plays that were love-less. (He urged the critic-less, also.) Yet he went wrong as far as did Ben Greet, who stowed away all the curtains and sets and strove to please with the scene- less. The New Theater in its house beautiful offered the drama star-less. Ibsen sent over some plays that were mirth-less. Scores of other deluded per- sons financially interested in the stage then tried to reach us with the art-less, sense-less, or the plot-less. Isadora Duncan's young brother Raymond tried out the hat-less, shoe-less, and shave- less. He succeeded in expressing a lower order of emotion by wiggling his toes; but the face of him, in the shim- mer of footlights without grease paint, appeared cadaverous. And the latest is “Sumurun,” the word-less. “BELAsco GAve us the tune-less play— SENT THE ORCHESTRA home AND substi- TUTED this dinner chime.” Ah, me, friend producer, listen for once to a word from one of your con- sumers. If your idea of giving us some- thing new is always to slaughter instead of to augment, if you must lop off, please make first some lesser reforms instead of these rash, wholesale butch- eries. Really it is only a good plot, an interesting story, that we ask. Just that and little more. 'Tis all we ever have required, from the days of the Garden of Eden to these of the Garden of Allah. Not the wit-less—only the gag-less. We are insurgents, not bloody “THE SAVAGE CONSUMER KEEPS HOPING SHE WILL break in TWO-BUT SHE, NEVER noes.' anarchists. We pray not the love-less —only the gush-less. Not the set-less, the tune-less, or the shave-less; rather the claque-less, dog-less, burntsugar- less, smoke-less, and eat-less. Remove the claque and find out whether we care to applaud your show or don’t. Take us out of agony by keeping your greyhounds in their kennels in the backyard or in the cellar, instead of lashing them to a property tree to scratch their ears with their hind legs while the prima donna is trilling. Chuck the decanters of burnt- sugar and water. Stage drinking isn’t realism; we common folks pour ours from jugs or flasks. Don't allow your prodigal actors to throw away so many cigars and cigarettes half smoked. Good tobacco deserves better treatment— particularly in public. Don't feed your troupe on the stage during an act. They never consume enough food to do them any good, and the Rest of Us feel in- sulted and uneasy while we watch them. - “I do wish papa would let his garden grow. It is for slight favors that we are thankful, as for the suppression of bom- bast from melodrama, the final exit of the eccentric king from comic opera, and the fact that the fat comedian dressed as a woman is becoming scarce. Our hearts leap up when we behold a grand piano that isn't labeled with yel- low letters on the side: “This is a Gloomingdale Grand.” We are thank- ful–profoundly, sir—to observe that a villainess nowadays may wear another color than scarlet, that heroines need not be blond, that stage money is being better conserved, and that a musical show may end without a patriotic song and a display of red, white, and blue. Mangling a popular stanza- Oh, friend of ours, producer friend, You shouldn’t worry so; What we have missed of joy We couldn’t have, you know! So please not to grow frantic. Please not to order any more great massacres before consulting the consumers. First eradicate such annoyances as the vain young fop with a small mustache who dances on table tops, and the young lady who doubles herself backward over his arm under the delusion that she is danc- ing. This type of girl, we all have dis- covered, never breaks in two, as the sometimes savage consumer keeps hop- ing she will do. You have fooled us long enough on this. Take her away. Suppress forever the local allusion. Also the song about dear old Broadway. Reduce the average of unnecessary pro- fanity. Prohibit the red electric light fireplace. It may go in England, where nobody appears to have heard about the invention of stoves and furnaces; but it makes a poor impression in a land which is intimate with steam heat. Recall ºf § º º N º i. -Ž R E V E R I, E. S. ºn º º º --- º - º --- º - º --- - º º 'º - - --- - º - T H E CO ST. But he says things are high enough as it is.” - - º º - º º º - º - that a recent production in New York shattered all traditions about fireplaces by having a young woman rescue The Papers with tongs. While you are about it, annihilate the young man who gam- bles on the stock market and rushes onto the stage, at least once every act, and screams, “I must see father!” If ever again you feel particularly bold, give us not another word-less play or something worse in the direction of worth-less, but some such genuine novelty as a drama in which nobody wears a dress suit or flourishes a revolver. Speaking of Numbers. Tell me not in Roman numbers, When you speak of corner stones, Or the dates that mark the slumbers Of some famous crumbling bones; For I will not get you clearly- I’m confused by Ms and Cs. If you tell me, do it merely In plain figures, if you please. Shall We Never Know? The uncle of the King of England has visited New York, and the tumult and the shouting has died, as Kipling puts it. And yet the momentous question of the century is no nearer a solution than it was before–Who and which are New York’s Four Hundred? On mature con- sideration we have decided that we can still get a full night's sleep without knowing the answer. Gruff customer (looking up from the menu card)—“Have you brains?” Timid waitress (confused)- ‘No, sir. That’s the reason I'm working here.” SS º º SP))\ºss & * . .” źSº º º - - º º - Nº) \º zºº O º º M \º - - # - }} A & {{\º. º 9 *s */ gº tº ſº J) º The courting swain in days of old Full many changes have been wrought. Was satisfied the hand to kiss We scorn mere paltry finger tips, Of her to whom his love he told; Preferring kisses of the sort But 'twixt that distant day and this That need, forsooth, two pairs of lips. The populace who used to dwell In days when reigned the tarantelle, To-day would witness with a shrug Our “turkey trot" and “bunny hug." B on R. BONAPARTE celebrated his ini- tial birthday at Ajaccio, Corsica, in 1769. He passed the day quietly in his own home, making friends with the family, faces at the nurse, and plans for the future. Being somewhat poor, he had little to spend in his early days except his youth, and this he did lavishly. At the tender age of ten, he was sent to a school where scientific scrapping was the initial num- ber on the curriculum. Here he amused himself by standing the other pupils in a row and knocking them over, as one does dominoes. Tiring of this quiet life, he became an officer in the regular army, and one day, in a moment of en- thusiasm, decided to conquer the world. . This occupation kept him busy most of &T —ºf | A M E R I C A N UN R E S T . ; Z72,- ve - - —Zºº 2,7-2 a part e—N a pole on . his time and he had little opportunity for exercise. His only recreations were posing for his photograph in a triangular hat and a far-away look and sighing for more worlds to conquer. He occasionally spent a week-end crossing the Alps and became very ex- pert at it. Being small of stature, he was able to jump from Alp to Alp with agility. Mr. Bonaparte was received with ovations wherever he went, and spent his time pleasantly until he had a little misunderstanding at a small sta- tion on a branch line called Waterloo. This changed his plans entirely. His family physician sent him to a summer resort for a vacation; but finding the place infested with mosquitoes, knock- ers, and gossip, he hurried back to the city. Shortly after his return he was arrested for fighting without a license and sent up to do time on the island. Here he spent the hours gazing out over the sea with folded arms and hunting through his pocket for his return ticket. A Broadway restaurant is a place where people go who are not hungry, to eat things they don’t like, for which they pay prices they can’t afford. UN C L E S A M S D A U G H T E R S . ºf gº WEK) J É, ſº §ght" § Öğ * §§ S \\2 º A ºf S T EC- b Scºo #TS. \ F., TS, Miss St. Louis. E- R++--- Miss CINCINNAT". Turn in g Ce n sure I n to HEN the “Girly Widow” was tried on the dog in one of the New Eng- land cities, it provoked this caustic com- ment from one of the local papers: “The ‘Girly Widow,” as performed last night, is full of dullness. There are situations that might be turned into good comedy, especially in the second act; but the incompetent members of the company do not seem to be able to easily rise to the heights necessary to carry out the author's witty intentions. In spite of the cost of its production, it will certainly not be good for a year's run when it reaches Broadway. “Mr. Walker Strutt, in the role of the young lieutenant, sings his lines without distinction and seems not to have a clear conception of the part's requirements. “Miss Byllee Buster, in the title role, is not refined in her methods and does not do the character justice. “The chorus was good in spots, but they were a lot of awkward, raw girls at best, and there were many homely faces among the few fine lookers. “The only good thing that can be said of the orchestra is that it did not have to play often. “The shortsightedness of Mr. Smythe in putting his opera into the hands of the Tie Trotting Opera Company is to be deplored. Commended though he was for his previous work, this one will not add much to his dramatic stature.” “Oh, that is fine!” said the manager, looking over the adverse criticism next morning. “Without altering a word, I can turn this into a rattling good send- off. A little pruning is all that is nec- essary. Now, just watch your Uncle Fuller " '' And after he had crossed out a few superfluous words and phrases, the scathing criticism was made to highly THE ONLY REQUISITE. To be a hit in vaudeville And have your name in lights, Just spend three hundred for a gown, You'll pack 'em mats and nights. Don't worry what to start with- . To get a lasting hand Just finish up by howling ‘’Alexander's Rag Time Band” §§§ t; ºver SS 55 ----- S$ $$$ 3: =ºjR*#3 cº Z #3 -> wn Miss INDIANA POLIS. P r a 1 S 6 . praise the production. And the New York press published the manager's abridgment of the play's which read as follows: premiere, “The ‘Girly Widow as performed last night, is full of -dºness—Phere- --- situatiens that Haight-be-tº-ened-inte- good comedy, especially in the second act; +++ the +eempetent members of the company-de—aet seem to be able to easily rise to the heights necessary to carry out the author's witty intentions. Jº-spite-ef-the-eest-ef-ite-predaeties, it will certainly-het be good for a year's run when it reaches Broadway. “Mr. Walker Strutt, in the role of the young lieutenant, sings his lines without distinction and seems +94- to have a clear conception of the part's requirements. “Miss Byllee Buster, in the title role, is net refined in her methods and does +a+–de the character justice. “The chorus was good -ia—spetsr-but- they were-a-let—eſ—awkward-raw-girke. ++-best, and there were many herºe!” £aees—among–the–few-fine lookers. '4+re only good+hing—that can be said of the orchestra is that—it-did—het—have- +a+lay-eſteh- it phe-àHertsightedness—ef Mr. Smythe in putting his opera into the hands of the Tie Trotting Opera Company is to be depleree. Commended-theugh-he-was +a+–his—previous—week, this eae will-net- add much to his dramatic stature.” -Harvey peake. U N N A T U R A L H IS T O R Y L E S S O N S . The Buffalo. HE BUFFALO is a four-rooted quadruped which derives his name from a large city near Niagara Falls. He is a strongly constructed beast with many peculiarities. His head is large and heavy; so heavy in fact, that were it not for the weight of his long tufted tail he would be continu- ally tipping up and standing on his muzzle. This would interfere with his eating, as the buffalo is a muzzle-loader, so we congratulate him on his heavy tail. The buffalo wears a large amount of hair on his head and face. This hair, instead of commencing at the skin and growing out, commences a number of inches away from the skin and grows in. He has very little hair around the waist, but there is a sizable beard on the lower end of his tail. The buffalo has only thirteen pairs of ribs. This is an unlucky number, and was perhaps the cause of the buffaloes' ina- bility to continue their residence on the western plains. Buffaloes have horns, but they cannot blow them. They use them to annoy their enemies with. It's said that a buffalo in good working order will toss an elephant over the highest tree in the prairie. But as there are no elephants or trees in the prairie we may put this down as a canard (meaning hoax; ridiculous fabrication.) In India a species of bird perches on a buffalo's hide and seeks the little ticks that are wont to tickle him. This is the way the game of hide and seek originated. You should never get buffalo and the bison mixed. The bison is an American make, while the buffalo is imported. Buffaloes are by no means shy, but as they injure the furniture by scarring it with their horns they are not cultivated as domestic pets. º ºśrº #imºnſº TVNº. Tw º º What it was. What it is. THE LINE OF LEAST RESISTANCE. The Social Scale. HEN I proposed, she answered, “No; The man I wed must have the Do.” When next I piped my plaintive lay, She said, “Of hope there's not a Re.” Again I made my fervid plea- She cast a withering glance at Mi. She met my fourth with cool “Aha! This matter's gone a bit too Fa.” Five times I sought to gain the goal. Said she, “You are a patient Sol ''' The sixth, she said, “Go ask papa. Perhaps he'd like a son-in-La.” So, armed with lengthy pedigree, I bolted forth, her dad to Si. + - - - + - “She’s yours, young man | Such nerve, I know, Will make up for your lack of Do.” MORAL. Young man, don’t mourn your dearth of kale. Just persevere —you’ll run the scale. Suspicious. Mrs. Talkalot—“Mrs. Dashaway says her house is full of antiques.” Mrs. Pneurich—“I knowed it was full of something. I seen 'em sprinkling insect powder around the other day.” What it may be. A Flight of Fancy. If people with a mental twist The doctors cannot fix, Supposed to be in Luna's power, Are known as lunatics, The man that has a flying bee Amid his brain machinery And loves among the clouds to stick Must be an aeroplanitic. Not Like Mother Made. Johnny and his mother were din- ing with a friend. The first course was chicken soup with macaroni in it. The hostess watched Johnny as he sat quietly gazing into his plate. Finally she asked, “Why don’t you eat your soup, Johnny?” “I don’t care for it, please, ma'am.” “But your mamma said you liked chicken soup.” “I do like mamma's chicken º: soup, but she don’t put the iº, -- - - - -- -T-sº windpipes in. | liſ On a Diet. Quizzo—“I understand that your friend Bronson is a vege- tarian.” Quizzed—“Yes. He has such pronounced views on the sub- ject that he married a grass widow.” Their View. Mrs. Wayupp-"She says their family settled in Boston.” Mrs. Blase—“Not to hear the tradesmen there talk.” A Soft Berth. Sympathetic lady—“Where did you sleep last night?” Weary Wiggles—“In a mum.” Sympathetic lady—“My gracious! How did you stand it? coal bin, Yesterday —and to-day. THE FARMER. Wasn't it an awfully hard bed ‘’” Weary Wiggles—“No, mum. It wuz soft coal.” * At Palm Beach. “Seems to me it’s aw- fully stupid here,” re- marked the transplanted Broadwayite. “Can't you rake up a little ex- citement?” “Well, I might let you have your bill,” suggest- ed the hotel manager. The Silenced Pretender. Bilts—“Did you know that the oldest of Price's seven daughters had eloped?” Siffert—“No. How was the old man affected?” Bilts—“Oh, he took on dreadfully at first; then he found out that every one knew he had bought the girl’s railroad ticket.’’ In South America. First senorita—“She belongs to the most exclusive societies.” Second senorita—“Yes; she is a D. S. A. P.-Daughter of South Ameri- can Peace. She can trace her descent from ancestors who lived in the two years when we didn’t have any war.” REFLECTED GLORY. Visitor—“Well, my little man, who are you?” Little man—“I’m the baby's brother.” Tabloid Sermons. Be on the square—because it's right, And then you sleep well, too, at night. Here is a hint I’ll give you cheap: “Uneasy is the swindler's sleep.” Be patient, my son, as you go along; But not too patient—or you’re in wrong. Of things gone “flui” and things passe, The deadest of all is Yesterday ! If you would roll in coin and pelf, Just keep your secrets to yourself. -Berton Braley. His Occupation. Farmer Hornbeak—“What's your nephew, that graduated from college a spell ago, doin' now?” Farmer Bentower—“Still meerschaum pipe.” colorin' a Innocent. Poverty is a crime of which we can- not accuse the wealthy of being guilty. T H R O U G H J U D G E 'S O P E R A G L A S S E S These girls so fair, who dance and play Each charmer, in a solo part, Along the Weberfieldian way, Would agitate the hardest heart: Might for the Muses nine be posed And when combined, as they are here, If in more classic dress inclosed. They'll set on fire all hearts, I fear.-J. A. w I T. T H E E YES HAVE NATURE'S SWEET RESTORER. Photographer (to farmer Hayrick)-" Look pleasant, please." Mrs. Hayrick—“Go to sleep, Abner. That's the only time you 're pleasant.” His First Serious Thought. W. E. D. Stokes, Jr., son of the mil- *-* lionaire hotel proprietor and known among his intimates as “Weddie,” is about fourteen years old and is already the patentee of a dozen or more elec- trical appliances. º EXTREMES MEET. “what MAN has bone, MAN CAN no." Not long ago a caller at the house was talking to him about his work and asked him how long he had been at it. “Well,” he said, with considerable deliberation, “I first took up electrical engineering seriously in 1900. ” How much fun he got out of it before he took it up seriously at the mature age of four years nobody knows. The Same, Yet Different. BOUT two years had passed away Since Nell and I had met; So 'twas not strange that I should say, When I again chanced by her way, “Nell, are you married yet?” She glanced at me in mild surprise- I would have made a bet That there was sadness in her eyes As she replied, between two sighs, Mary had a new spring hat, “Yes, I am married—yet!” NO CAUSE FOR PROTEST. And, though accounts do vary, - . . . . . - Inºkeeper—“Whatcher howlin' fer? ~Ye don't Some people say her feet were all Children did the bunny hug Easter week. hev tº eat this dinner.’’ That could be seen of Mary. Her Crowning Glory. º º COMFORTS OF A BACHELOR MUSSER. NOT TO BE DENIED. “B” jabbers, if Oi wus dead Oi 'd own up tº it." No Cause for Worry. Knicker—“My son is at college, in Philadelphia, and from the way I have to put up the coin, I judge he must be sowing a bumper crop of wild oats.” Bocker—“Oh, I wouldn’t worry over a little thing like that. Very likely they're Quaker oats.” Both poles discovered, what now are the explorers to do? Ballade of a Bachelor. º, Johv worthERN hit. L14 RD. ALL she was and divinely fair, Light of foot as a woodland fay; A Gibson girl with a modish air– She that I loved and that said me nay. It seems, ah, me! but yesterday- How stunning she looked in her feath- ered hat! But ten long years have passed away, And Amaryllis is growing fat. Ankles dainty and figure spare, Cupid's mouth and eyes of gray, Roguish dimples and golden hair, Chloe was blithe as a bird in May. Though I pleaded long for a single “yea,” She used my heart as she would a mat; But Time adjusts all things, they say, And Chloe, too, is growing fat. Lips that were made to tempt and snare, Eyes to sparkle and dance and play, A smile to banish life's cark and care- Clorinda certainly “had a way.” Slender, too, as a poplar spray: Graceful with racquet and club and bat. She spurned me, too; but my heart is gay- For Clorinda, also, is growing fat. Only the foolish barber would have the cheek to cut an acquaintance. Current Fiction. Kidder—“That fellow makes a living writing light fiction.” Kiddee—“He doesn't look like a lit- erary chap.” Kidder—“He’s not. He makes out statements for the electric-light com- pany.’’ A BROAD SMILE. Minister—“Well, Brother Jones, I hear that the Lord has smiled on you?" Jones (who has recently become the father of twins) –" Smiled on me? He laughed out loud at me.’’ The I. -- "a b → * * **, ºf \ , , ºf - º º: \ lºt (1)– a ." º 3% ºn- “My dear Basil you don't mean to say you haven't ever been to Stumpleigh's place 2 A Natural Misunderstanding. HE earnest lecturer raised his voice and spoke with special emphasis. “I want to tell you, ladies and gentle- men,” he said, “that Robert Burns's poetry”—— He was interrupted by a man in the audience, an editor whom he had roused from a doze. “Good for Robert!” cried this man enthusiastically. A rolling pin, now and then, may de- scend upon the best of men. DOC 'S UP AGAINST IT. School girl—“Please, ma says ter vaccinate me where it won't show." “ H U M A N V A R I O U S .” The Footpad and the Poet. [A footpad in New York held up a local poet. By mistake, of course. One can't tell anything by ap- pearances.-cleveland Plain Dealerºl That's where you're off! The footpad knew The poet was a poet, And, feeling kindly toward the Muse, He took that way to show it. He didn’t hold him up to rob— He knew he was a poet; But what he did was different, And all the world should know it. For, lo! he’d robbed a publisher, Who otherwise would blow it, And, with his blessing, he conferred The wad upon the poet. What? - W. J. Lampton, poet. A Misunderstanding. First boarder—“Will cheese?” Second boarder—“How fast is it trav- eling?” you pass the Back Again. Now cease to fret o'er butcher bills, The price of meat forget. What matters if the finny folk Escape the fisher's net? Farewell to pork chop and to stewſ Avaunt, you costly steak! We welcome back to festive board The juicy, red shortcake. An odor of the past—gasoline. Why, he has all kinds of people up there º wº - & X X& º O ºxwº & Q º & A QUINTET. Professor Bug-" I was looking for the South Pole, but I didn't expect to find five of them.” A Personal Affront. Striking members of the Amalga- mated Skirt Stitchers were holding a conference. “Where is that tall, thin girl who joined the union last week?” inquired the walking delegate. The secretary arose to reply: “She handed in her resignation this morning.” “What was her reason?” “She took offense when she was called on to act as a picket.” BASEBALL. a purely American insti- tution, is played by a few million fans, the newspapers and an umpire, assisted by two widely worshiped idols called pitchers. There are a few other supernumeraries in the game, but they are of no particular detriment. The contestants play out of doors nine months in the year and in vaudeville the rest of the time. The pitcher, unlike his inanimate namesake, is of no value when full. A wild pitcher is one who indulges in high balls. The purpose of the game is to score. When a team can’t score a run, it scores the umpire. When the players are raw they are roasted by the mana- ger, and when they are fresh he cans them. Baseball is not con- sidered a dangerous sport, al- though it causes a gigantic mor- tality among grandmothers each year. A baseball fan is a curious instrument used to keep the air in motion. It does not shut up, like many kinds of fans. A bleacher is a wide flight of steps, so ar- ranged as to get the full benefit of the afternoon sun and to be entirely cut off from breezes. One row of bleacher seats will comfortably accommodate a greater multitude of rooters than all the upholstered pews in a full-sized modern º // BALL FIENDS—THEY HAVE ARRIVED. B a se b a l l . church. Here is an abridged dictionary of terms used in baseball: Hit—Vaudeville act headed by a big leaguer. Error—Any decision of the umpire against the team you are backing. - º Rain check—A fan's hope of the here- after. Knot hole—A small boy's peep-sight into paradise. Jinx--An excuse for playing a bum game. (See Drinks.) T H E L I N E U P . (Drawn with a single line.) sº4 f * - A º 4+ DIII) Steal—Transaction of a ticket specu- lator. Safe—An enormous receptacle for holding the gate receipts of the cham- pionship series. Strike—Refusal of the players to work until the ghost walks. Walk—End of the strike. Tie-Part of a railroad track utilized on the homeward journey by the fan who bets on the losing team. - c. G. G. Hubby Passes. (A per-version of Browning) The year's at the spring— And it’s Monday morn; Time- nearly seven; The dust rag’s unfurled. It’s springtime housecleaning– Inferno is born 1 Sure as there's heaven, All's wrong in the world! Ratiocination. Sir Gilbert Parker, with fiery emphasis, declares that never, no, never, shall Russia have Persia. As Russia already has it, the only infer- ence is that Sir Gilbert Parker is still eminent in the realm of fiction. The cry of “batter up’’ now heard, is not a warning that the dough is rising. l T H E F A R E Mr. R. SONDER BY is one of the calm- est, coolest men on Long Island. He never hurries and he never misses a train. When he dresses for the theater, he dresses slowly, allowing himself am- ple time, and he is always ready and waiting by the time Mrs. Sonderby is half dressed. Then he walks at a re- spectable pace to the station with Mrs. Sonderby, has just one minute to await the train, and carries the whole thing through without fuss or flurry. It is a pleasure to see Mr. Sonderby dress. Before dinner he lays out his linen and his dress suit and his tie, sees that his brushes and comb are in place, puts his clean socks beside his patent-leather shoes beside the low chair, inserts the cuff and collar buttons in their proper buttonholes, and makes all necessary preparations. After dinner he calmly dresses. No haste, no flurry, no hurry. He dresses with the slow but steady movements of a plumber work- ing by the hour. On September 15th Mrs. Sonderby, about four in the aft- ernoon, called Mr. Sonderby on S on d e r by By ELLIS PARKER EUTLER. “Pauline,” he said, when he had eaten his soup and the chop was on the table, “will you run up and bring me the green time table you will find on my dresser?” Pauline brought it. Mr. Sonderby had reasonable faith in his wife, but women and time tables are notoriously incompatible, and he just wanted to see for himself. He opened the time table and glanced at it. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed, and threw his napkin on the table. “If that isn't like a woman! Seven-thirty, indeed! Why, that train goes at seven- fifteen, and there isn’t another until eight-twenty! I’ve got to hustle!” º 4- Hurries. underwear wouldn’t go on. It stuck in a dozen places to his wet skin, and he had to inch it on bit by bit, and even then the legs and arms were twisted wrong side before and clung like sticky flypaper. Mr. Sonderby dived at the dresser drawers again. “Where are those black silk socks?” he cried. “Where are they?” He jerked the contents of three draw- ers out on the floor, piece by piece. He dug into his sock drawer like a baby in a sand box. Red socks, blue socks, lavender socks, but no black socks. He scowled at the dresser a minute and made a dive for his wife’s dresser. He made that look as if a cyclone had struck it, and then his eye caught the darning bag, hanging on a door knob. He dumped its contents on the floor and searched the debris on his hands and knees. One sock! One black silk sock, with a heel hole as big as the entrance to the mammoth cave' Mr. Son- derby snorted his wrath. And just at that moment he saw his underwear, his socks, his tie, the telephone. “George, dear,” she said, “Mr. and Mrs. Merkle have in- vited us to the theater to-night —the Empire Theater. We will meet you in the lobby at eight- fifteen. Mrs. Merkle and I are going in early to do some shop- ping. They have a box, so you had better run out and have dinner at home and change your clothes. You can get the seven-thirty train to town, then, and just meet us.” “Very well, honey,” said Mr. Son- derby. “Are you sure about that train? You know, the winter time table goes into effect to-day.” “I know,” said Mrs. Sonderby. “I got a new time table yesterday, and I have just looked up the time. I’ll leave the time table on your dresser.” Mr. Sonderby reached Westcote on the train that arrives there at six-three. At six-eighteen he was in his house, and as Pauline, the maid, had dinner on the table, having been urged by Mrs. Sonderby not to delay Mr. Sonderby by having dinner late, Mr. Sonderby began eating at once. THE FATE OF THE LAST PEDESTRIAN. As a matter of fact, Mr. Sonderby could have finished his dinner as usual, dressed as usual, walked to the train as usual, and could have reached the sta- tion at seven-fourteen easily; but he had planned to catch a seven-thirty train, and he was a man of system. He jumped up from the table and rushed up the stairs, tearing off his coat as he ran. He threw his coat on the bed, cast his vest after it, jerked off his collar and tie, and in two minutes was in the bath- tub. In another minute he was out again. No time for a good rub He jerked open three drawers in his dresser, turned their contents upside down—al- though he knew perfectly well his under- wear was in the third drawer. The and his dress shirt laid out neatly on the bed. “Humph!” said Mr. Son- derby. The thin silk socks stuck to his damp feet, and he ripped one of them almost in two, tug- ging at it. He jerked it off and began a hunt for black thread and a needle. He opened eighteen different boxes and twelve drawers. At last he found a broken needle, with no point, in a sew- ing-machine drawer, and a spool of lav- ender silk, and he spent five minutes trying to thread the needle; but he was in such a hurry he couldn’t do it. He threw the torn sock under the bed and put on the sock with the hole in the heel. Then he jumped for his dress shirt. He had it over his head before he thought of the collar buttons, and he jerked it off again, grabbed his old shirt, and shucked the collar and cuff buttons out of it. There was a tinkle on the floor, and Mr. Sonderby dropped on his hands and knees again. He had lost a collar button. (continued on page 19.) HE THOUGHT OF LEAP YEAR. She-"I am going to propose”- He (nervously)—"Why---er---I never suspected that"— She-" I am simply going to propose that you say good night.' I hear father on the stairs.” P a “THIS meat,” ses pa, chewin’ vi- cious, “is tough as a elephant!” “Well, I can’t help it, Alvin,” ses ma. “You are alwus talkin’ economy an’ tellin' me I pay too much fer what I buy, an’ if you will have the cheap cuts, you must expect to get 'em tough.” “Not at all !” grumbled pa. “It’s not the meat’s fault. It’s all in the cookin'. Trouble is you don't know”— — “Oh, I don't, eh?” ma chops in, grim-like. “I don't? An' I suppose you do? I'd like to see you tackle the dinner some time—only I’d want to send Joe” (I'm Joe) “outer the house first. I'd hate to have him hear you cookin'!” an’ she tossed her head suppersilious-like. “I’ll — grump-grump —cook it termorrow !” ses pa, with empasis. Pa wus havin' a vaca- tion. So wus I. That’s how I’m able to tell you all about it. - Next day, when it come time ter start the cookin', pa wus absorged in his paper, an” he didn’t take a bit kind to ma's re- mindin’ him of his prom- ise—his threat, she called it. “Whatcha got ?” he asks suspiciously- Ma names over the in- greedyunts. “Ugh !” grunts pa. “It’s a pity the women of ter-day can’t run a oven without callin' on the men folks to show 'em how. if I got to”—— Ever throw the reflection from a piece of lookin' glass onto a wall? A smile flickered over ma's face just like that. But pa never saw it. He went out inter the kitchen. So did ma. So did I. “Don’t git in my way, son,” ses he. “No, sir-re, pa!” ses I. “Now, then, Ader,” ses pa, “got any paper bags?’’ - “Any what?” ses ma. “Bags—you heard me—bags!” roars pa. “Paper bags, I said!” “You’ll find plenty in the corner of the pantry next the winder,” ses ma. Well, Tri e s a P a per by ARTHUR Powel L. “Well, get me a good-sized one, woman,” ses he, “an' don't stand yawpin' there, doin’ nothin'.” Ma brought him a couple to select from. “This’ll do,” he ses. ine. “Now watch This here's the new, economical, tasty way of cookin’,” ses he. “You put the stuff inter a paper bag, an’ the bag inter the oven, an’ there you are. No dirty cookin' utensils to wash, no loss of flaver, no waste; everythin’ ten- der an' juicy an' suckleunt. Got a good fire?” - “Fire's all right,” ses ma, “an' the oven's good an” hot.” “‘PA LEAPED Away from the oven with A coor portion of the DINNER --- StickIN’ to his FACE. “That's right! That's good!” ses pa; an' he takes some meat an’ the vegetables ma had fixed, an’ a little water, an” dumps 'em all inter the paper bag. “Now, quick!” ses he, “an open the oven door!” So ma opens the door an' pa pops in the dinner, bag an’ all. “What's the time? Half-past eleven? In forty minutes it’ll be done ter the queen's taste—that’s you, m' dear!” chuckles pa. It alwus makes pa happy- like an' jokey when he does anythin' he thinks is real clever. So pa goes back to his paper, an’ once in a while he hollers out a funny story H.A.Pere RSEN- B a g. º to ma. less. “Can't you smell somethin' burnin', Ader?’’ he ses. “I should think it might be the bag, Alvin,” ses ma. “Guess we'd better have a look at it!” he ses, jumpin' up. He opens the oven, an’ there sets the bag, sayin’ nuthin’ ter nobuddy, but turnin’ black in the face, all right. “Hum !” ses pa, pickin’ it with his finger, sort of doubtfully. “Looks all right ter me!” Then he lets out a howl an’ a wicked word, an’ dances an’ shakes his hand, 'cos he'd touched the hot oven with it an’ got some burn, I tell you! Masoothes him down, shuts the oven door, an’ fixes his burn up with some soap. Some irri- tated, he resoomed his paper. A bit later he got wor- ried again about the din- ner, an’ back to the stove he goes. “Hold on, Alvin ''' ses ma. “Better let me open the oven. I’m used to it. You might burn yourself again.” “I guess I know what I’m doin’?” snaps pa. ‘‘Trouble is this stove isn’t built right. I told you so when you got it.” “I don’t remember that”—begins ma; but he had the oven door open, peerin' at the bag. All of a dreadful sudden there wus a bang like a automobile tire blowin' up, and pa leapt away from the oven, with a good part of the dinner stickin’ to his face. That kitchen wus a awful place, I can tell you, for the next five minutes! Scalded, half blind, an’ rippin' out the most frightful language, pa pranced up an’ down the floor, wipin’ the stuff out of his eyes. Ma follered him back an’ forth, scared fifteen ways ter Chrismus, an' askin' him every second or so if he wus hurt. Me? Well, I figgered under the table wus the safest place fer me! Laugh? I couldn’t 've helped it if I wus ter have died fer it! I laughed fit ter split—but quiet-like, so pa wouldn’t Bime-by he gets a little rest- I figgered he wus in no condi- But hear me. tion ter see me fer a good while. that's where the figgers lied. “Joseph,” he bellers, “Joseph, you walk right along upstairs, an’ when I get outer the hospitle I'll give you the hottest lickin' you ever had in your life I’’ When pa shouts up like that you'd better get out. I went up to my room an’ rolled on the bed, an’ laughed with my mouth until I wus cryin' at the eyes, an' then whooped her up some more, till I began to wonder where dinner wus comin' frum. Later I found ma had rescued somethin' frum the wreck an' had finished it in a stewpan, civil- ized fashion. When everythin' wus ready an' pa bandaged up an’ quieted down, she calls me. We sat down, with a smell of burnin' in the air, an’ Sleeves. Oh, are they short or long this year? And are they large and puffed, Or tight, so that fat arms appear Like sausages, well stuffed? Whatever else their shape may be, A protest we would utter 'Gainst huge puffs at the wrists, that we Drag surely through the butter. --- - A ºirºt. Back Appropriate. Willis—“Why do you call your ma- chine a “she” ‘’’’ Gillis –“It is said to be the word' in automobile construction.’’ On the Free List. She was a stately and important-look- ing dame, quite accustomed to holding a high hand; he was a customs inspector, who refused to have any of his rights and duties “last - º You R abrogated. weighTORYOUR She-“Just wearing apparel in these bags; nothing dutiable, sir.” He (tumbling about silk dressing sacks, toi- let articles and travel- ing accessories, brings - out a bottle of cognac) º —“You said wearing - apparel !” She (with a wither- ing look)—“My hus- band's nightcap, sir!” Taking No Chances. -- begun ter eat. Nobuddy “Be careful in select- said nothin' fer the ing a husband, girls!” longest time. Finally WILLIE ELEPHANT (looking at sign over scales) –" By jingo, old man, cried the noted lecturer. pa ses, in a chastened I'll go you ! Here's yer nickel." “After all, m an is tone, somewhat like a bal- Aer. what does this taste like ter No Cinch. loon. He”—— - - you? Before she could continue with the “Well,” sesma, kind of weighin' the question, “I should say the flavor wus half charcoal an’ half paper bag, Alvin ''' “Huh !” ses pa, with infinut disgust. Wife—“What is a referendum?” Husband—“Search me ! I don't know whether it’s a soft drink or a part of an aeroplane.” When Jimpsy's dressed for Sunday, He is beauty fine, I Guess' You ought to see the flounces And the laces on his Dress' And baby pins and ribbons, All the dainty pinks and Blues' Lulu's mother heard a great splashing in the bathroom, and, upon investiga- tion, found her little daughter standing in the partially filled tub, in a most be- drabbled condition. “Why, you see, mamma,” plained, “I’ve been trying to walk on the water, and it’s no fool's job, let me tell you!” Show Tim e. º * * * A º she ex- simile, a sweet young thing near the platform called out, “I’ll take a dirigible!” Binks—“What verse in the Bible best describes the college student?” Jinks—“‘They toil not, neither do they spin, yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.’” g-ºa º * * º ... //; A 24 The cutest little stockings And the dearest pair of Shoes! Oh, my but he is handsome! And his daddy’s mighty Proud! And all the other babies Are a homely little Crowd." Irvine Junkin. T H E F I R S T R O B I N T he ADSON HILLBURY was a born in- ventor. It came perfectly natural for him to invent. It was he who per- fected a boat driven by water-power, the water being pumped by hand into an elevated reservoir on board, and in its escape turning an overshot wheel con- nected with the propeller. You may remember his successful experiment with goldfish, in which by attaching a reversing contrivance to their fins he made it possible for them to swim back- ward, thus relieving their heads from the unpleasant pressure of the water as they moved about in it. He was also the instigator of the gyroscope hat, which assured its wearer an upright po- sition regardless of his state of inebria- tion. Jadson Hillbury was a benefactor to his race, and the world misses him now that he has de- parted. Mr. Hillbury had a love for mild sport, a fair income and a wife. Therefore, one evening, when he read in the paper that the Rob Roy Traction Company was having an auction sale of somewhat obsolete taxicabs, it was but natural that he became interested. “Mrs. Hillbury,” he remarked, “before I go to work capturing sea- gulls to be used on the planes of airships as equilibrators, I’m going to give you and myself a treat. I shall buy a taxicab and we will tour through New England.” Mrs. Hillbury sighed and said, “Oh, Jadson 1’’ This was not an original remark. She had said it quite often before. There- fore Mr. Hillbury continued as if noth- ing had happened. “You will have the satisfaction, Mrs. Hillbury,” he said, “of being driven by one who has a scientific mind. I have never conducted a taxicab in my life, but, understanding the explosion of gas- oline and just how it exerts its propel- ling force, I shall not bother to take les- sons. I shall not find it necessary to even lift the hood of the motor before we start on our journey. Common sense, Mrs. Hillbury, is sufficient.” Hill b ur y s Try By N. C. BLEEcker. The car was bought at a very reason- able figure. It was of the vintage of 1900, and its ramshackle appearance was evidence that it had never been hauled out on dry dock. Hillbury's house was on a downhill stretch from the garage and the chauffeur had no trouble in delivering the vehicle, as the brakes, at least, were in splendid work- ing order. Mrs. Hillbury and two suit cases were piled inside, while Mr. Hillbury, duster, gantlets and goggles adjusted, prepared to officiate at the crank. “Aren’t you going to take off that taximeter arrangement?” Mrs. Hillbury inquired anxiously. “I should say not!” replied the scien- tific mind. “In the first place, the ma- chinery inside that infernal contraption “the Noise caused MR. hillbury to JUMP AN IMAGINARY hurdle.” - generates a tremendous momentum, so that on a level stretch we can shut off the engine and use it for our motive power. In the second place, it will be the happiest experience of my life to watch the thing charging us to the tune of a few thousand dollars in the course of the trip and be able to laugh in its face. Here we go!” Hill bury cranked. The engine coughed, expectorated, sighed and be- came silent. “Hm!” remarked Hillbury. the half center. We’ll coast down to the river road. That’s three miles. What's the use of wasting gasoline, anyway?” He jumped aboard and released the brakes. The machine glided toward New England with the noiseless im- ‘‘It’s on To u r in g . pressiveness of an electric runabout. “Splendid coaster, this 1” said Hill- bury. “Great! We’ve gone two dol- lars and eighty cents’ worth and it hasn’t cost a cent. Now watch that meter take us over this level stretch.” But the meter fell down dismally. The car stopped gracefully, and on a crossroads leading into a popular tour- ing thoroughfare. Hillbury manipulated the levers and got out. He gave the crank a turn. The engine started, so did the taxicab. The born inventor jumped ahead. “Hannah, reach through the window and do something to some of those levers!” he shouted. Mrs. Hillbury did her best. She in- advertently threw in the high gear, and the speed of the car increased consider- ably. Mr. Hillbury lost his scientific head. The only thing he could think of to do was to run, so he ran. Mrs. Hillbury was cool. She decided to experiment no further with the levers, but, in- stead, grasped the near- est point of the steering wheel, pulling at it bravely and hollering, “Whoal” Fortunately, the high-speed record of the vehicle was a num- ber of seconds less to the hundred yards than Mr. Hillbury had done both in college and later as a commuter, and he skipped mer- rily along, meanwhile trying to in- vent a way out of his dilemma. Some strange instinct guided Mrs. Hillbury and she kept the car in the middle of the road with the skill of a gradu- ate chauffeur. Accidentally her hand touched a button on the wheel, and the squawker bellowed raucously. The noise caused Mr. Hillbury to jump an imaginary hurdle, also to generate an idea. He slowed down to ten miles an hour, and at the psychological moment hopped straight upward. The hood of the car passed under him while in mid- air, and he found himself in a sitting posture upon it. This was not so bad. He sat there, panting for breath and not daring to move, gazing helplessly at the (Continued on page 20.) ！ -- ：） ---- |-___-- S P R | N G B L O S S O M S T H E M Suffrage Snapshots. By 1DA HUSTED HARPE.R. ONLY a few weeks ago a distin- guished alienist filled a page and a half of the Sunday papers to show that, because women’s brains weighed less than men's, they could never hope to reach man’s intellectual height. Now it is announced that the brain of one of the country's most noted physicians, who has just died, weighs less than that of a child. Can’t the scientists come to some agreement as to the exact brain weight necessary to great achievement, so women may know whether to try or not? But, come to think of it, their brains couldn’t be weighed till after they were dead, so they’ll have to keep right on carrying off college prizes and pro- fessional honors, just as if their brains and hands and feet were as big as a man's. T At the recent presidential primaries in New York County, only about half the Republicans went to the polls. In an election district on Long Island, just one man voted. In an Illinois town, five votes were cast, but four were found to be illegal. Similar reports || come from all parts of the coun- W/. try. President Taft and ex- H/ LA President Roosevelt say that when the majority of women show that they want the ballot they should have it. The wom- en will accept this condition when it is provided that the men who have the ballot and don’t use it shall be disfran- chised. A Florida woman writes to the National Suffrage Associa- tion for permission to organ- ize a troop of cavalrywomen, arm them with light rifles, and send them to the Legislature to get a suffrage bill. The Southern women have been rather slow to get started on this question, but when they do they will go on horseback where the Northern women have gone on foot. A “straw'' vote at Tufts College, Boston, resulted in a O D E R N majority of the boys for Roosevelt and a majority of the girls for Taft. One at Columbia, New York, gave Taft a ma- jority from the boys and La Follette from the girls. This is a very fair example of the way men “represent” Women. Proverbs for Suffragists. by E. L. S.M1TH. It takes two to make a family. Too many men spoil the nation. The early word catches the public. Time and women wait for no man. While there is strife there is hope. The woman who hesitates is bossed. The laws that men bungle live after them. Anti-suffragists hear no good of them- selves. Man is jack of all trades, but master of no woman. Half the approval of a husband is better than no vote. ſ S FOR MER AND LAWS FOR MEN AND - Camd wºmmºn ----- ------ º:. T \G|{{[[DELYHERGREY \(HERE!!! (!(H, \ º /\ Nº. CORRECTING AN ERROR, LOUR06ERS W O M A N A suffragette’s stone gathers no bail. One Legislature does not make a vic- tory. Where there’s a woman, there’s a way. Men rush in where women would tread softly. Necessity to vote is the mother of in- vective. Boss is a good dog, but co-operation is better. It is said that barking “Antis” sel- dom bite. Do not count your reforms until the laws are patched. When women's rights are in the West, frightened menfolk rule the best. An Abiding Faith. Senator Bailey, of Texas, recently de- faced the Congressional Record with the following story, told on the floor of the Senate: A suffragette, who had suffered many trials and tribulations, had gone to a leader of her politi- cal faith to confide her woes and ask for help. “My dear,” said the second \ suffragette, “put your trust in God. She will help you.” A Suffragist Catechism. Question. Where is a wom- # an’s place? | Answer. On the inside. Q. Where is the inside? A. It was once on the inside. It is now on the outside. Q. Where is the outside? A. It was once on the outside. It is now on the inside. Q. How can a woman stay on the inside when the inside is outside and the outside is inside? A. Ask the anti. Q. Who is the anti” A. One going forward with # feet turned backward. Q. What is a vote? - A. The shortest distance be- # tween two points. Q. What is the “silent influ- ence’’’ A. An endless prayer with- Out an answer. º % º º % º º % º ! - Lou Rorers. Results attained in California will be equaled in other States. The Sky scr a per Th a t Le a n e d . HE STORY of the terrible heat ex- perienced during July, 1925, has come down to us of the twenty-first cen- tury as a matter of history. Few of the present generation, however, have heard of the leaning building of Seattle, now the world's metropolis, and the peculiar effect that it had upon society. For fifteen consecutive days the thermometer in the usually temperate Puget Sound city had registered 140 degrees. Asphalt streets had melted and become seething canals, so that the city, from passing airships, resembled the Venice of a hundred years ago. Glass in the windows melted, while the lakes in the parks turned to steam and disappeared. The pop- ulation in a body sought the bath- ing beaches, and their lives were preserved only by their remaining immersed and subsisting on com- pressed-food capsules. By far the strangest freak of the heat monster was its effect upon the International Wireless Build- ing, a structure of seventy-eight stories, above which rose a mam- moth tower, its flagpole being fif- teen hundred feet from the earth. The sun, intensified by the re- flection from the Sound, gradually melted the steel girders that formed the skeleton of the tower, causing it to list to one side in a most uncanny manner. Each day of the intense heat saw it bend a few degrees more, until, when the cool wave finally arrived, it resem- bled an arc of a huge circle, listing twenty-five degrees from its origi- nal upright position. When the people returned to their homes, they gave the leaning tower a wide berth. For days the streets over which it hung were untrodden. Finally, as no catastrophe came, business in the vicinity was resumed, and engineers, entering the tower and carefully exam- ining it, pronounced it as safe as when in its original position. One by one the tenants of the thou- sands of offices in the colossal tower re- turned. Ingenious artisans reconstructed the elevators and the office furniture to conform to the new lines of the build- ing. As the elevator cars were of ne- cessity curved, the passengers gradually became accustomed to standing in a cor- responding posture of twenty-five de- A Tale of 2000 A.D. grees from the normal. The legs of the chairs and tables were made to fit this general bend, while the mirrors were patterned after the concave affairs seen in the amusement resorts at that time. It was only natural that the curvilin- ear condition of things in the gigantic tower should have its effect upon those who came in contact with it. Gradually the occupants began to bend at the waist line in conformity with their environ- ment. Tailors found it necessary to build trousers with one leg longer than the other for their clients who occupied suites in the building. A special form “INsidiously the prope.Nsity to BEND ExtENded.” of suspenders had to be constructed to meet the needs of the unequal shoulders that were developed. The influence spread far beyond the confines of the monolith. The curved tower was visible in all parts of the city, and insidiously the propensity to bend extended, the angle varying with the distance of the bender from the tower. Horses, dogs and cats were affected, and even the neighboring buildings slid out of plumb in sympathy with the popular movement. If the strange effect of this archi- tectural accident had stopped with phys- ical manifestations, the incident would hardly be worth while recording. But matters went further. Soon a mental crookedness commenced to develop. Draftsmen found themselves unable to draw straight lines, and plans of build- ings were turned out specifying steel girders of a twenty-five per cent. curve pattern, while lumber mills were called upon to furnish boards in the shape of the letter C. Business men found them- selves unable to carry on their transac- tions in a straightforward manner, and court procedure was of no avail, as the general malady extended all the way to the supreme bench. Petty and grand larceny were rampant. People were un- able to walk from one point to an- other in a straight line, and the con- sequent loss of time made the keep- ing of appointments well-nigh im- possible. Wireless messages in- tended for New York insisted on traveling in a circle and returning to their starting point. Trains and trolley cars ran off the track wher- ever straight stretches were en- countered, and the roads were ope- rated only on curves, a procedure which was found anything but con- venient to commuters. Matters grew continually worse, until finally a mass meeting was held and it was decided to condemn and dynamite the source of the trouble. Here arose a problem. Millions of dollars’ worth of prop- erty lying in its path would be de- stroyed by its fall. An ex-Presi- dent, known as the Solomon of his time, came to the rescue. He sug- gested that a charge of explosive be used large enough to blow the tower into such small atoms that they would be removed by the wind. This scheme was successfully car- ried out. The offending tower was re- moved from the building and scattered to four the winds, the ex-President himself lighting the fuse with a parabolic match. It took a number of years for the pop- ulation of the metropolis to straighten itself out. In many cases surgical oper- ations were necessary. People who had left the city to escape the plague re- turned, and politics and commerce grad- ually assumed a normal state. There are few living to-day who remember the occasion as here recorded. The metrop- olis has lived it down and proved the truth of the adage that time heals all things. - C. G. Garretson. Un cle ECRETARY KNOX, on his trip through the Central American re- publics, was interested - to learn that Costa Rica § 4. was not much of a coun- - try for long speeches. Gentlemen who insisted upon in dulging in lengthy after dinner ora- & tions were regarded with particularly bad favor. All this pleased our Secretary of State, who sometimes has to weather seven or eight speechi- fied banquets a week in his own country. In fact, he was so overjoyed to learn of the Costa Rican custom that he immedi- ately announced his intention of living there. © º-º- º [] Some curious petitions were presented to Mr. Knox en route. Anybody who had a grievance attempted to get it to him in some form or another. In many cases it came to him in the form of badly battered English. While he was going through one of the most southern of the Latin-American republics, a hand- bill was put aboard his train. The writer appeared to be friendly enough to the United States, but what he said about his own government should have been printed on asbestos. At the end of the protest, the man presenting his trou- bles meant to urge the Secretary to be sure to keep the matter in mind. He might have succeeded except for a fall down in his lingo at a critical time, as he had written in large letters at the bottom of the sheet: PLEASE DO NOT REMEMBER THIS. Individual attention shown to various persons by the Secretary of State as they were presented did much to give the Central Americans a more intimate acquaintance with the distinguished visiting official. He had some particu- lar comment for everybody introduced. No matter how long the line was or how the thermometer stood, the greatest personal interest was always shown. In San Salvador, at the President's re- ception, one of the ranking guests was Mr. Dawson, the postmaster-general. Mr. Knox did not catch his title at the first breath, but came back strong a minute later with, “Oh, yes—I under- stand now ! Mr. Dawson is the Salva- dorean Hitchcock.” S a m 's Boss by Rob ERT. D. H.E.I.N.L. When the wardroom officers of the U. S. S. Maryland gave a dinner in honor of Secretary Knox, the newspaper correspondents in the party were called upon for speeches. Edward McKernon, of the Associated Press, after describing the delights of the countries visited, said that, nevertheless, after hearing the farewell address of the Secretary, he always experienced a feeling of hav- ing missed a great deal. Mr. McKernon suggested that, for the benefit of the less observing newspaper men, the Sec- retary of State reverse his policy and deliver his farewell eulogy on the open- ing rather than the closing night of the engagement. Apropos to the extended cruise, Colo- nel Gorgas, sanitary officer of the Pan- ama Canal zone, told Secretary Knox about the seasick man who had arrived at Colon a few days before. His ship had been tempest tossed from the time the Virginia Capes were passed. The invalid, after parting with most of his meals, was about ready to give up the ghost when land was finally sighted. As he came ashore at Colon after five days at sea, he sighted one of the Pan- ama Railroad box cars marked conspicu- ously, “P. R. R.” With an effort the man gasped, “My heavens! Why didn't somebody tell me the Pennsylvania Rail- road ran down here?” T . No longer are foreign servants allowed on our warships. The order meant the sending ashore of the Chinese and Jap helpers, who had shown themselves par- ticularly well adapted to service as stew- ards in the wardrooms and other parts of the vessels. These employes were all sworn in and had certain drill duties to perform. It was up to them to move as lively as the enlisted men at the time of an emergency. Lieutenant W. C. Barker, Jr., of the cruiser Washington, conveying Secretary Knox down from Key West, recalled what splendid work- ers the Chinese were and how loth they were to stop work even at a time when G l a d H a n d e r. they were needed on deck. An example of this was a laundryman on one of our battleships in the far East. The bugle had sounded for the “aban- : don ship” drill, but Mr. - Chinaman did not show up to take his station at the lifeboat. The officer in command waited a reasonable time for the Celestial to appear, then he sent a guard below to bring the ab- sentee to time. The Chinaman finally came to the surface, smiling and calm, with scrub- bing brush still in hand. “Velly busy to-day,” was his suave explanation. busy to-morrow. “Not so I surely come then.” D Prior to leaving Washington, one of the newspaper men in Secretary Knox's party called Dr. Albert Hale, of the Pan-American Union, by 'phone, to ask him if he knew of a concise and accurate English guide to Latin America. Dr. Hale, who is always obliging, named over several. The title of one of the books, “Practical Guide to Latin Amer- ica,” sounded good to the inquirer, and he asked for more information about it. Dr. Hale seemed a trifle reluctant. “If you say it is O. K., I will get it,” the man on the telephone persisted. “Do not understand me as recommend- ing it too highly,” Dr. Hale pleaded, “because the particular book about which you are inquiring I myself am the author of.” D Illustrating the easy-going disposi- tion of some of the growers in the tropics, W. E. Mullins, general manager of the Costa Rican branch of the United Fruit Company, tells about the planter who wanted to be shown the advantage of cultivating land for the raising of bananas. The native inquired particu- 2 ſt" 6. WHEN THE SUFFRAGETTE MOVEMENT HITS THE FRONTIER larly as to the remuneration and general prospects of the labor. “After putting the first block of land under cultivation,” Mr. Mullins ex- plained, “with the profit gained thereby you could take over a larger piece.” “And then what?” the prospective grower asked. - “After that, a still greater area could be added, which would mean much more profit.” “And then what?’” “Decidedly more profit.” This didn’t arouse any particular en- thusiasm from the inquirer, who lan- guidly inquired again, “And then what?’” “Then you could retire and things easy.” take The First TALKING MACHINE. “Oh,” said the Spaniard, with a shrug of his shoulders, “I do that now.” Joseph Bucklin Bishop, secretary of the Isthmian Canal Commission, recalled the visit of certain congressmen to the home of Colonel Goethals, boss canal constructor. One of the members asked how much the house cost, receiving a prompt reply that the amount was about $28,000. The member opined that the cost of the homes of employes was in proportion to the salary the men were drawing. He was told that was correct. “Then if I were living down here,” the congressman went on, “I would get a house suitable for a man with a sev- enty-five-hundred-dollar salary.” “If you were living down here,” Colo- nel Goethals is said to have retorted, not being particularly impressed with the ability of the man talk- ing, “you would not be earning seventy-five hundred dollars.” A Tragedy. Susie had a little bite— She got it from her poodle- And many kinds of abject fright It caused within her noodle. She wouldn’t let them cauterize, For fear that it would hurt; And now poor Susie's body lies Far underneath the dirt. Warned in Time. A recruit who for the first time was placed on guard at a Western army post knew little concerning military duty. About three a. m. the officer of the day was making an inspection of the guard, and, approaching the post on which the recruit walked, was chal- lenged: “Halt! Who goes there?” “The officer of the day.” “Say, you’d better get over to the guard house as quick as you can! The sergeant of the guard has been watch- ing for you ever since taps I’’ If Dr. Osler's suggestion of chloro- forming elderly people was carried out, what excuse could the baseball offer to get off? fans How The Tortoise Got THERE. - - - - - - - - - - - - T H E M E R M A D A N D T H E L O B S T E R . A mermaid and a lobster met, A chorus fish with dainty wings On land or sea, 'tis all the same- And straight began philandering. Leaped from the sea at what ensued, Where youth consorts and pleasure whils; The mermaid was an apt coquette, And Johnnies, winged, in leading strings, Birds, beasts and fishes play the game- The lobster was a gay old thing. The pretty creature quick pursued. You'll lobster find where there are girls. - 1 - THE SPIRIT OF '76. Willie Sparrow—“My wouldn't mother be proud to see what a brave son she has." Queehawkett Notes. HE Sand View House, which was to have opened for boarders next Sat- urday, has postponed the opening for two weeks longer for repainting, a large flock of June bugs having alighted on the recently applied paint before it was dry and been stuck there. The Sea Crest has had a narrow iron bridge run from its rear piazza down to the bathing houses on the beach, and with characteristic enterprise has an- nounced as an additional attraction that it now offers a “bath connected with every room in the house.” will The old dark-room in the Bella Vista House, formerly used by the Quee- hawkett Camera Club, has been enlarged 2 Fºl this season and will be devoted to the - - uses of engaged couples on rainy days, /4% Z / / - when the summer houses in the pine / T grove are not available. (2 - s Owing to the large number of com- # * _ º ad- º J’ 2 - - 2 P º sº N 4, | l / º § 72 's $3 A - ºf ſº, , º º ‘....? - ſ - : - Jºž Aſ S. s - - << * *- ~ R -s— - T-> ~ 2. plaints made by the patrons of the Ma- ple Tree Inn last season, the manage- ment has had a large knocker in- stalled in the office, for the special use of those who object to the service, food or general condi- tions of things at the inn. The High Point will be run finan- cially on the club system this year, all guests’ accounts be- ing posted in a conspicuous place in the office and kept there until paid, further credit being refused after an elapsed pe- riod of ten days from date of posting. On account of annoying delays in the installation of the hydrau- lic power service at the Rockhill Palace Hotel, the new elevator put in this spring will not be used this season for the pur- pose for which it was designed, but be remodeled “C U P I D S S L I D E .” into a cigar and embroidery stand for the convenience of guests of both sexes. The scarcity of labor at Queehawkett having made it impossible for the pro- prietors of the Squinnipiak House to have their roof reshingled this season, the managers have made a virtue of necessity and are letting out rooms on the top floor, where the leaks are most persistent, for shower baths. They will be greatly in demand during the rainy Season. - It is pleasant to announce that the subscriptions of the guests of all the hotels of Queehawkett last season have amounted to enough - money to send the village band off on a three months' tour of South America, starting July 1st. It begins to look as if, in spite of the fact that this is a presidential year, we shall enjoy a quiet summer at Queehawkett. The Chamber of Commerce should ad- vertise the fact of the band's absence as widely as its means will permit. Actuated by a desire to put a stop to piazza gossip this season, the enterpris- ing managers of Pinehurst Lodge an- nounce that they have placed a series of dictagraphs along their whole piazza line, upon which all conversation will be immediately recorded and transmitted to the office, where it will be transcribed and published in the Pinehurst Daily Tattler, a copy of which will be placed beside the plate of every guest at the next morning's breakfast table, the sources of the information as to the private lives of others being stated in full. This at first may give some of the guests a chill as they meet at breakfast, but it will get warmer during the day. EATED about the grocery Stove were several elder I y gentle- ...ten, each with plenty of hirsute adornment and time to spare. “Whar's George Potts this morning '' inquired William Swink, noting the ab- sence of a regular visitor. “I calc’late he’s in rather clost prox- inity to the handle of a wringer jest now,” observed Uncle Silas Wilson. “George's wife keeps him thar till every rag is washed on a Monday.” The grocery cat at this moment, hav- ing just completed a lazy trip to the numerous mouse traps about the store, jumped up on the counter and settled down near the feather duster for a nap. Peter Swink, William's elder brother, pulled thoughtfully at his long, white beard and was about to launch forth in a monologue on the negro problem. Fearing something of the kind, Uncle Silas hastened to divert his train of thought. “Peter,” he inquired, with deadly in- tent in his eye, “how much does that cat weigh'?” Peter Swink coughed slightly. “Must be out o' cigars, Silas, to ask a question like that. Can't get up a bet with me, though; I've still got one.” “Wall, jest fer a guess then, Peter,” insisted Silas, dreading the out- break of the negro prob- lem, which Peter loved to discuss. “I ain’t weighed many cats lately, and I jest hew a curiosity tº know.” Frank Smith, the good- humored grocer, placed the feline on the scales. He, too, was glad to in- terfere with one of Peter’s oratorical flights. “Ten pounds and a half, she weighs,” he an- nounced, seeing no wagers in sight. “Right smart weight fer a cat, I should think,” observed Uncle Silas sagely. Then he added, “Here comes George W e i g h in g the C at . By ROBERT C. McELRA vy. Potts, at last. its weight.” Mebbe George c’n guess The assemblage rose to the occasion with a single purpose. George Potts was known as the closest-fisted man in town. No one had ever been known to worst him in a wager or get ahead of him in any deal involving finances. Here seemed a promising opportunity' “Morning, everybody l’’ greeted Potts, backing up to the stove and chewing on a dried peach he had pilfered en route from the front door. “We war jest debatin”, George,” ex- plained William Swink, in non-committal tones. “You gen'rally air debatin’ some- thing,” interpolated Potts. “Yes; but we were all sort of feelin' th’ need for a seegar, and th’ question rose as to the pro-bubble weight of that cat. I can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t guess along with th' rest of us, ef you feel sportingly inclined.” “Wall,” replied Potts thoughtfully, “I been so busy with th' washin' this morning thet I ain’t smoked yet. Mebbe when you fellers air through, I might take a chanst.” A sigh went up from the group about The grocer leaned forward, The bare possi- the stove. on fire with interest. “FRANK SMITH, THE GOOD HUMORED GROCER, `-- PLACED THE CAT on THE SCALES.” bility of “stick- ing” George Potts for cigars all around was better than a horse race. “What would you say the cat weighs, Silas?” questioned Peter Swink, setting the ball in motion. “I hain't much i-dy, I'm sure,” re- plied Uncle Silas, not wishing to appear over-confident. “Ten pounds, perhaps.” “Ten pounds,” repeated Peter Swink. setting the guess down on a slip of paper. “What do you say, Dad?” turn- ing to Dad Smith, a quiet member of the circle, who seemed to be restraining a desire to laugh. “’Bout 'leven pounds, I’d say,” re- plied Dad, in offhand tones. “Too heavy" commented William Swink, winking at the grocer. “I’ll make it nine pounds.” Peter Swink laughed. “Twelve pounds is my guess,” he announced. A low whistle went up from the lips of George Potts. They all looked ex- pectantly toward him. The conspirators, without having guessed the actual weight of the feline, had covered the ground well on both sides of it. Potts drew a very long face. “You fellers seem to hev a su'prisin' similarity of views on this ques- tion,” he remarked. “Never saw you agreed so clost on anything afore. A-body might al- most think you'd been dealin' in cats every day, frum the way you guess 'em.” The group about the stove stirred nervously. They had not anticipated this tension at the last moment. What they wanted was a cigar apiece and a chance to laugh at George Potts. “Now,” rum in a ted Potts, “I’m free to con- fess that I ain’t much up on th’ weight o' cats. I c’n guess hosses and cat- tle purty well, but cats is different.” Uncle Sil as laughed % Ø -T. º ºn 15MokE | | assassin | cloa ºl K ! ſoarents º ! Tºll Sº Sºv T - º: w * afºa º jº Tsº º "-Nū 1sº º | post office HB Ranch Q - --~~~ z weace" wº No Goods Fºcoearoºs ------ |- =~~ --- UTAE º nº s: £ºe zz. Ask usatºund =- Rºcºcoops? º - º =º- Sºś N. corºnts rºade e re-e --> - NIF §CAR *. ALL MAKES of CANTERAS DEVELOPING 'N |AND Pºnting -\ sº º, i– §ſº *ouwd *one 5*ovzzº's O U R D R U G S T O R. E. S. . Stranger-(after looking about) –“ Can you tell me where I can buy some quinine pills 2" nervously. “Come along, George' Take a chance fer once in your life l’’ he urged. The group about the stove settled back complacently at this. But it did not seem to be the Potts nature to take chances. “I’m inclined to think Uncle Silas used purty good jedgment in his guess,” mused Potts. “A likely cat ought to weigh somewhere around ten pounds.” The grocer and the group about the stove held their breath. “But this cat, here,” said Potts slowly, “has an uncommon lot of fur. Now, o' course, fur don't weigh much, but it weighs somethin”. Still, I don’t think it would weigh e-nuff to make a full pound, which would be eleven pound all told. Besides, I couldn’t guess that, because Dad Smith said eleven pound, and Peter Swink said twelve, ber.” “That's right,” came a voice from the stove group. “I could n 't say less than ten pound, because William Swink here guessed nine pound, and my jedgment wouldn't let me go less’n that figger under any circumstances.” as I remem- The group about the stove seemed lost in one wide-spreading smile. But they had not counted sufficiently on the re- sources of the Potts sporting blood. Driven to close quarters, it occurred to George Potts that there was a safe mid- dle ground. n-el------ - OMINOU.S. “Say, boss, won't ye help us tº git a bite tº eat? I'd do most anything tº git th' price of a meal.” “I’ll just say ten pound fer th’ cat, gentlemen, and half a pound fer the fur, makin' altogether ten and a half pound,” At least he had not been guilty of making a hazardous guess at his time of life; he could not be furthest from the actual weight, for he was neither highest nor lowest! A groan went up from about the stove. With tears and lamentations Peter and William Swink were divid- ing twenty-five cents in change be- tween them, which they handed the grocer for cigars all around. Upon the scales, where the grocer had placed her, the cat lay peace- fully sleeping. George Potts, not- ing that the weight arm was swing- ing easily, leaned forward to see what the weight could be. To his surprise he discovered that the weight of the cat was just ten and one-half pounds. he finally announced. A Paradox. I think it's the funniest joke, That when you’ve no money you’re broke; And when you’ve no brains—it's a fact— You're not broke at all—only cracked! The D is courage m ent of Chi d l e i g h . “HEAR about Chidleight” “What's up now?” “Chidleigh, eh?” “What's the matter with Chidleigh, old top?” - “Oh, say, chappie, tell the news!” The initial question was asked by the man who had the news—Wadleigh. The three inquiries were voiced by Hurleigh, Burleigh and Jones. The supplication was in the falsetto voice of Beachey, and, with the absent Chidleigh, these five constituted a sextette that went the pace in common or as nearly in common as possible; for Chidleigh was always a lap or two in advanace. The six were unlike any other coterie in the rapid set. They were all members of the Connoisseur Club, at the bar of which the five at the moment had gath- ered to discuss “gin daisies,” with crit- ical references to the chemist of the club, whose concoctions were analyzed by them with a cruel, if not a scientific, disregard of his feeling that any com- mon “barkeep” would resent with a bottle or two of something. These swift young men were all con- noisseurs of everything—or at least they thought they were connoisseurs, because they belonged to the Connoisseur Club. They toiled not—and they knew noth- ing of spinning or any other industry, although they were all raveling some- $ - . . . * By J. A. WALDRON. thing of the fabrics knit by their fathers. They were by-products of industry. Being connoisseurs, these young men were arbiters for their kind at the horse show and at all other functions that ap- pealed to them. They knew all and sun- dry of smart things. They frequented the theaters where “girl” shows were on the boards, but usually at and by the stage doors. They knew every landmark along the electric thoroughfares. “How about Chidleigh, old top?” Hurleigh asked again, as the five raised their glasses and as with a single eye scanned the drink before analysis. “Did he get his auto out of the tree in the Bronx?” “Not yet,” replied Wadleigh, “al- though a moving crane is on the way to rescue it. But that probably isn’t trou- bling him just now. I think, chappies, we’ll have to cut Chidleigh.” “Cut Chidleigh'?” It came as a chorus, as the glasses were set down and the tipple abandoned. . “Why, old top,” ventured Burleigh, “what'll we do without Chidleigh! “Out with it, old chap!” “What's Chidleigh been doing?” They regarded Wadleigh curiously and with apprehension. “Well,” said Wadleigh, after a mo- ment’s thought, “Chidleigh doesn’t And when Chid- seem to be Chidleigh. leigh isn't Chidleigh, why should we follow his lead? When he ran his motor up the tree in the Bronx, it didn’t feaze him a little bit. He got back to the club, donned other clothes, and, after drinking a few absinthes frappe, went in search of adventure. He apparently mistook a young woman on the avenue for some one he knew. He was picked up, a little battered, and went again and changed his clothes and”——- “But who was the lady?” asked Hur- leigh. “I believe she was identified, before she got away, as the boxing mistress at one of the colleges for women on the Heights. As I was saying, Chidleigh went again and changed his clothes, the time being late in the afternoon, and, after a few more absinthes frappe, started in search of further adventure. He found it. He met another young wom- an, this time on Sixth Avenue, and as- sumed she was an acquaintance. He had to change his clothes again. He's down stairs now, but is discouraged. “ Hurleigh and Burley Beachey and Jones were amazed. Jones alone had the presence of mind to ask, “What hap- pened?” “Chidleigh was jiu-jitsued,” replied Wadleigh, with melancholy. “Jiu-jitsu'd! Jap girl?” “No; shop girl.” I'm nothing but a knotty stump, I don't give fruit or shade, And by the other trees about Much fun of me is made. Generous Boy. ITTLE Harry's parents always kept a barrel of apples in the cellar. Not long ago they moved next door to an or- phans' home. Shortly after moving, Harry's mother noticed that the apples disappeared with great rapidity. “Harry,” she asked one morning, “what is going on with our apples?” “Mother,” he replied, “I have to eat a great many apples.” “I am willing that you should have all the apples you want. But why do you eat so many lately?’" “Why, I have to eat a great many, 'cause the orphans want the cores.” All Full. “Sistern and brederen, darky in testimony meeting, “Ah jes' wants to git to hebben and sque-e-eze down into one of . . . dem back seats.” “Nar, n ar, brudder,’’ said a deacon who had just come in, “Dem back seats been fulled up long 'go.” Rather Weak. Diner — “Waiter, bring me a glass of water.” Waiter—“Certainly, sir, but you already have one glass.” Dº n e r- “One is not enough. Get me another. I want to strengthen this soup.” -- said an old To find the silver lining to the cloud you must clear away all gloomy thoughts. - Zvº-Z Ziv- J-2 2. ſ W Asſº; ~~ s” - ~~ - \ T H E M A T C H M A K E R . I'll never go to build a house, Or be a mainmast tall; But ah, my mission here on earth ls most beautiful of all. ---- "Soºraw-H - Sºrº- For many a laddie with his lass, Who have sat beneath my bough, And carved the names upon my bark, Are fond grandparents now. Co m pen s a ti on . The laurels fair of Tennyson were of a pleasing kind, the which I should have gladly won had I but had the mind. To be a man like that, of course, would mighty pleasing be; But When Polly says, “I love you!” I’m glad I’m only me ! To win a fame like that of Poe and write such wondrous things as from his pen in constant flow gave his weird spirit wings would most delightful be, I think, fraught e”en with ecstasy; But When Polly calls me “Dearest!” I’m glad I'm only me ! Sometimes I’ve envied Milton's fame, as well as that of Lamb; I’ve viewed MR, LAZY MAN'S DEVICE. “Rocked in the cradle by the deep, I lay me down in peace to sleep.” with jealous eyes the name of dear old O. Khayyam. I’ve wished I might be any one of all that splendid three; But When Polly smiles to meward, I’m glad I'm only me ! There's Emerson and Addison and all Fame's other sons, from Edison and Madison back to the earliest ones who’ve cheered the world and blest the soul with deeds of victory; But When Polly's eyes rest on me, I’m glad I'm only me ! I've never done an earthly thing in letters or the state to give my name and fame the ring unquestionably great, and sometimes I sit down and moan my sad obscurity; But When Polly says, “Come, kiss me!” I’m glad I’m only me! -Blakeney Gray Of Course. “Mrs. Spende says they have a harder time than they used to, trying to live on their income.” “That's natural enough —Spende has had his salary increased.” Croakley — “The white carnation is the enablem of Mothers’ Day. Is there any flower that is worn on Fathers' Day?” Joakley—“Yes. it is the poppy.” I think TR-5 - ºf EL-o-º- A L A P S E O F M E M O R Y . Mrs. Teller-" Mrs. Tinkle says that nothing is really impossible." Mr. Small—" She must have forgotten her husband when she was speaking.” “Not quite, dear,' “Do you mind waiting until I unwrap this package?” Mrs. Updyke waited in surprise and suspense while her husband produced a machine that was a duplicate of her own. “Now,” said Mr. Updyke, “let’s have a duet.” He placed his machine on a table near that occupied by his wife's. Both were turned loose and the following dialogue took place: “Broad 4-9-2-7. Harry?” “Hello, Updyke.''' “Well, is everything ready for the party?” - ‘‘I guess so. working order.” “She is, is she? Good!’" “Yes. She runs like a watch. I haven’t got her all painted yet.” “Oh, I don't mind about the paint! I suppose she's got lots of speed.” “Sure! She runs best when she has a good, heavy load on.” “At her best when she has a good load on, hey? Well, we'll take care of that.” “You want to be careful and keep her well oiled. The engine's stiff when it's new, you know.” “Yes, I'm always careful to treat a new one nicely.” Hello! That you, The boat is in fine was the answer. T - -- C I N D E R E L L A “By the way, I’ve painted the name Dolly on her bow.” “Dolly, hey? wife's name.’’ -º-º-ey. T Fine ! That's my THE NEWEST COLLARS. 1. The Gouge-The only real rival of the deadly hat p1.n. 3. The Nikot in e-With washable asbestos attach- ment for pipe, cigar or cig- arette. 5. The flutch-To be but- toned to hat band at back during windy periods. By a deft movement of the mus- cles of the neck it can be made to tip hat without use of hands 2. The Cafeteria—For use at quick lunch counters and soda fountains. Front can be rolled down, buttoned to coat and employed as a napkin, 4. The Strabhanger-Espe- cially fashionable among commuters and patrons of the subway during rush hours 6. The Auto-Designed to wear in place of goggles while motoring. º | and draws five feet three water.’’ | “That so? She's thirty-two feet long inches of “Thirty-two and five feet three, you say? Why, she's a twin sister to the last one I had — the one that went to pieces, you know. Say, but my wife will be wild when she sees her! Well, be sure and have her ready Saturday afternoon. Good- by!” “Good-by, Updyke!” “Well, my dear, suspecting child,” said Mr. Updyke, when the whirring of the dictagraph records had ceased, “are you pleasantly surprised?” Mrs. Updyke maintained a painful silence. “You see, it was this way. I hap- pen to know the man who sold you the dictagraph. I lunched with him yesterday, in fact, and he told me of your visit. I smelled a rat. I got this machine, took it to my friend, Harry Green, of whom I am buying a motor boat as a surprise for you, and arranged our conversation beforehand. I have also been in the confidence of your friend, the drug clerk, who told me of the interest taken in my move- ments by our neighbor across the way. You see, darling, that two sides of a story are better than one. By the way, don't forget that we take our maiden trip on the Dolly on Saturday aft- ernoon. Wh at 's your traveling bag doing out here 2'' “Oh, I was just getting ready for that maiden trip !” said Mrs. Updyke. Then she put her arms around his neck and prom- ised him, as she had done many, many times before, that she would never, never doubt him again. Snaps and Snarls. Providence tempers the wind to the girl with the silk stockings. A self-made man al- ways acts as if he thought somebody else wanted to claim the job. American women will never get so excited over politics that they will for- get their powder rags. – In England the candi- date “stands” for office; here the office has to stand for the candidate. Maternalism. K in d g ent le m a n— “What are you going to do, Johnny, when you be- come a man?” Johnny—“Nawthin’.” K in d gem t le m a m— “What? Not going to do anything?” Johnny—“No. Just as Soon as I started some- thing, ma would tell me to stop it.” Our Imports. It is said that a number of titled Englishmen are planning to visit America shortly. We are also re- ceiving large shipments of lemons from the West Indies. * - Usually. Willis—“What posi- tion do you occupy in your household?” Gillis—“I am treasurer to my wife's social secre- tary.” Vice Versa. Parson—“So your hus- - American genius has done some great things, and it may yet invent a health food that tastes like something to eat. Honesty is also the best politics, but only a few have got next to it. The worst thing you can say about an actress is—nothing. A diplomat is a man with two boys and a dog, who can live in the same block a year without a quarrel. Many a woman who has everything else she wants wears her heart away in sorrow because she can’t wear pink. You can violate a man's principles with impunity, but beware of tramping on his prejudices. - W. Kee Maxwell. He 's One in a Million. There's a man whom I don’t know by name, - Who belongs in the fans' Hall of Fame. When his office-boy said That his grandma was dead, He cried, “Sure! Go ahead to the game !” THE NEWSPAPER MOOCHER. How soon an upright man loses his reputa- tion when he becomes a candidate for office. Judge-‘‘You look familiar. METING OUT JUSTICE. fore this Court before ?” - -- - - Female—“No, sir; but I wuz yer cook last month.” Judge-‘’ Thirty days on bread and water.” Were you ever be- band is sick. Maybe he has been throwing himself too heavily into his work.” Mrs. -Casey—“Not on yure loife' He's been throwing his wu-urk too hivi- ly into him. That's what’s the throu- ble wid him. He's a bartinder.” - Anent the Flea. How doth the little busy flea - Delight to jump and bite' He's never where he seems to be— He's always out of sight! The things the flea has done to me Are not a cause for laughter; I've cussed him till I plainly see My place in the hereafter. An Addition. “Yes, sir, when we were ambushed, we got out without losing a man or a horse or a gun or”—— “A minute,” chimed in a small, still voice. And Still We Print It. The poets are working overtime. With them ’tis now the open season. They find much reason for their rhyme, And make much rhyme with little l” ason. FLATO A C H A S E D D I A N A . She has journeyed abroad. She has journeyed abroad. She is met at the pier And some moneyless peer, By a grovelling horde With her vast golden hoard, Come from far and from near. She will capture, I fear. - C. G. Garretion. - - - - -- rº - -º-, *, * - =<''. - - - W.| % A º/* i Extreme Opinions. T THE meeting of the Do or Die Suffragette Club in closed session, July 1st, 1914, each member was re- quested to respond to roll call with her opinion of men in epigram. The follow- ing is the partial result: Mrs. Smith—“Men are like jobs— when you need them and you want them they ain't there; when you don't need them and you don't want them, they are thicker than berries in a blackberry patch.” Mrs. Jones—“Any woman who can afford a husband can afford a bulldog, and if she has a bulldog, she doesn't need a husband.” - Mrs. Brown—“The reason so many women acquire husbands is for the same reason lots of women buy kodaks and poodle dogs—they see other women have them, and don't know what a nuis- ance they are, nor how expensive to keep up.” Mrs. Black—“All men are liars—the ^ -- ºr-o-r- AN OVERSIGHT. Judge—“You are charged with breaking a chair over this man's head.” Prisoner—“I didn't mean to break the chair, yer worship.” - - % % ~ º º - º 2. ſº THE WACUUM CLEANER'S LATEST USEFULNESS. - - difference is that some back their lies up and some don't.” * Mrs. White—“Men are like little boys in front oria bakeshop window. They pretend they don’t want any cake and that they would run away awful fast if the baker was to offer them any, but if a woman thinks she is a baker and offers them any she’ll find herself with a life job on her hands.” Mrs. Fluff-‘‘Men and marriage are like contracts—if you once sign away your rights, you never get them back.” Mrs. Duff-‘‘If a man hasn't anything he will willingly give you half of it, but if he has anything you can't get a quarter of it without false pretenses.” - Bertha M. Coombs. The Picnic Girl. She’s gold of hair and blue of eye, She never keeps her hat on, And always puts the custard pie Just where it will be sat on. Smooth words oil the grooves of life. TRIFLES. The rain may drive in streaks of blue, The wind may fiercely blow; But trifles these are to the maid Who would a-shopping go. T H E Women in Journalism. THE VERY remarkable showing made by the suffragists in their recent parade in New York has inspired new discussions as to woman’s place and pos- sibilities in various vocations. The matter of the ballot, of course, is al- ways uppermost in the minds of the more enthusiastic among adherents of the sex among men. The work of schools of journalism in various colleges brings up the question of women's success in this calling. James Lee, director of the department of journalism in the New York Uni- versity, says that, while that institution pays more attention to the magazine than to the newspaper field, women stu- dents have done excellent work, and like accounts come from other institutions. It is not to be expected that schools of journalism will wholly supersede the practical school which has produced the journalism of this and past generations. In this practical school women long have shown their equality with men upon op- portunity, and many women to-day are “stars” in journalism, covering fields in which they are admittedly superior to the other sex. It is a fact that should militate in favor of any claim women may make as to their right and their aptitudes for almost any mental work that men do that women for a long time have been eminent in literature; and in that other M O D E R N great field, the theater, for generations women as a mass have excelled men as actors, while even as dramatists they at least hold their own. Prejudice alone has kept women from many other vocations in which eventually they will prove themselves. The Coming Child. A mother sews for her coming child Shapes tiny and soft and undefiled. With many a stitch of love and care, With many a dream of all things fair, She sews his covering to prepare. The world is making his garments, too; Has fashioned the same the ages through. With many a stitch of law and greed, With many a thread of sin and need, It makes him an early shroud, indeed. The world is strong in the ballot's might; Unarmed the mother to wage a fight. Mere hope is futile and trusting vain, For not till she helps to rule and reign Shall ever the babe his own attain. - McLandburgh wilson. Something in It. In San Francisco, where women can vote, they are demanding a police court for women exclusively, with bailiff and all officers of the feminine sex. In Washington, D. C., where neither men nor women can vote, the latter have put up a woman candidate for judge of the Juvenile Court. All of which proves that there is something besides suffrage back of the “woman's rights” movement. “I have been absolute monarch of the world since government began. º r-- - º: º 4×2 wº º º º º º { A. - º F. º º º - º C 2. M A N 1 * * W O M A N Married Women's Legal Status. Until recently a wife in England could not testify against her husband, because they were one and he was the one, and it would be the same as his testifying against himself. Then the Court of Criminal Appeal took a hand and de- clared that she not only might testify, but could be compelled to. The ball was then tossed into the House of Lords, which has just decided that she can do as she pleases. By the time the courts and the legislative bodies and the church and the newspapers get through with woman, will there be any woman left? Corrected. A wealthy American girl was attend- ing a social function at a country house in England. “You American girls have not such healthy complexions as we have,” said an English duchess to the girl. “I always wonder why our noblemen take a fancy to your white faces.” “It isn’t our white faces that attracts them,” responded the American; “it’s our greenbacks.” Justice and Liberty. What irony! The Statue of Liberty and all our figures of justice are women! When woman suffrage is accom- plished, how hard it will be to find any one who ever opposed it! I will not share my sovereignty.” UN N A T U R A L H IS TO R Y L E S S O N S. The Beaver. THE BEAVER is an aquatic representative of the mam- malian order Rodentia, although it is a question whether he fully appreciates the honor. He can be distin- guished from a cat, a small boy or a tramp by the fact that he is not afraid of taking a bath. When swimming he uses only his stern propellers, and steers with his tail. It would be cruel to de-tail a beaver, because then he would have to swim in a straight line entirely around the earth in order to get back to where he started from. (See Colum- bus's theory of the shape of the earth.) Beavers are ex- pert civil engineers. They see a dam site quicker than many human beings, and then build their dam with super- human sagacity, locating their living quarters underneath. Like all sensible people, they leave their apartments in the spring and travel and visit relatives all summer. Their bill of fare consists of bark au naturel, bark maitre de dam and bark au gratin; also a dessert of water lily when it is in season. They shed their furs occasionally, with the aid of trappers’ skinning knives. These furs are genuine and command great figures. Made into coats, they are seen displaying all kinds of figures. The beaver is rarely shot, but is put out of business with a stick or caught in a trap. As he is hunted only at night, a night- stick is used. The class may now go to the country and find a beaver dam and watch the beavers beave. 17 - C. G. Garretson. º zº º * *P- & " -- - --- - - % - - - º - - %&:-->\lº- W *- -*t- || ºro Aliſº || || | a - N || || º º - ºr , ) . – ".. - 3. º 2xº~. @ ~~~ - T-– --~ * % % *=} /// º, a * I's L § # . n i º º f ; f- º H | # A. § Wºº." ſº Zºº” "ZZ ſ º The fair stenographer about to leave on her vacation is asked by her employer to find a substitute. A t MONDAY. She-“I think you very presuming upon so short an acquaintance, Mr. Will- ing. Yes, a week is short! We have nothing in common and I don’t care to be in your presence again. This is final. Good-day, sir!” He— TUESDAY. HOLDING DOWN HER JOB. She complies. t he S e a s h or e . by howſ ER croy. He– – - thought you could. You see, I believe in FRIDAY. - frankness.” She-“Let me steer her a while. I He— — — — How did you know Amer- You love to sailſ ican Beauties were my favorite? SATURDAY. She-“Do you mean it—every word She-“Why do you thrust yourself upon me? I thought I made myself clear yester- day. Even if you do tº k, I made a much better selection than I of it? Is it really true?” - He— - -- | 9 || 2 — JULY — I S I 2 stºpsy. She-“Isn’t it wonderful, S UN. MON. TUES. WED. THURS. FRI. SAT. Harold? I’m so inexpressibly — × - - happy! I)o you know, Har- old, that I liked you from the very first? I tell you this be- sha’n’t listen.” - He— - - - WEDNESDAY. cause I believe in being per- fectly frank. Don't you think frankness saves lots of mis- X She-“Can't I go anywhere without your following me? I think I'll take a stroll down the be a ch. I sha’n’t tell understandings?” He—“Yes, dear. moon wonderful ?” Isn’t the 4% º you not to come, but most men would take the hint.” He— Well Named. “Why do you call this new tire of yours the Mexican?” THURSDAY. She-“You danced much better last night than I thought you could, Mr. Will- # asked Slathers. “Is it made of Mexican rubber?” “Oh, no!” said the inventor. “I call it that because it is ing. You see, I am very frank.” capable of innumerable revolu- tions without wearing out.” to HER YouNG MAN: July days on which it is permissible to eat ice cream. - Money and Matrimony. HAD money; Kitty hadn't. I was sure that wealth would win, For to marry money isn't, In these days, the greatest sin. So I asked her confidently, And to my extreme surprise Kitty said she scorned my money, With her nose turned to the skies. Kitty scorned the wealth I offered! Kitty, poor as she could be, Turned her nose up to the heavens- Turned my wealth down scornfully! Men and women, did you ever Think a woman was so bold As to brave the world's opinion Of the winning power of gold? Kitty, Kitty! How she fooled me ! Yet she meant me no offense, For the wad of him she married Made mine look like fifteen cents! ---. J. Lampton. Cozy. Madge—“Isn't that a very small hammock you're taking with you on your vacation?” Marjorie—“Oh, it will hold two at a squeeze ''' In Paris. “How do you know she is an Ameri- * * * can : “I heard her talking French.” AT THE POLO GAME. she “I shall never marry a man who can't play polo." He–º very well, I'll learn to ride. break my neck?" she-º Oh, there always are survivors. A NT1 QUE LOVE. Samson and Delilah. But suppose I - ------ ------- ------- - Not Edible. Mrs. Newleyrich, the wife of a multi- millionaire, was dining in a fashionable hotel recently, and being unable to pro- nounce the names of dishes, she pointed to a line on the menu and said to the waiter, “Please bring me some of that." “I’m sorry, madam,” replied the waiter, “but the orchestra is just play- ing that.'" Her Theory. the mistress, one morning, to her cook, “how was it I saw wou entertaining a policeman at supper last night?” “I dunno,” replied the girl, “unless you was peepin’ through the keyhole, mum.” “Agnes,” said The Pessimistic Lover; As they halted in front of the florist's, she cried, “Oh, the blush on that beautiful rose!” “It is blushing,” her pessimist lover replied, “At the price, I suppose.” Geraldime—“What did pa say when you asked him for my hand?” Gerald–" He gave me a delightful travel talk." T H E S K U L L . Danger lurks in every pack, and Death's symbol should be the "trade-mark." (Hold this picture at a distance and carefully note the effect.) -- º al *~ Ž v- tº º † w - - º % Æ1 \\ 3%. 2 IJAVII] TICE wºrkMan º f_2, . " '}; -- - | º % F- |- £2. * ..] Sºº \\ - -- “W H E N G A B R I E L B L O W S H IS T R U M P E T.” THE ARTIST employs the imagina- tion while he stimulates it. He tells the truth with a veneer of humor or a touch of satire, and it is his func- tion to amuse as well as to provoke thought. A picture often in small com- pass tells more than a page of text could impart. The artist in the above picture lets his imagination play with human- ity in that emergency which has been held out as a warning for ages. What will happen when Gabriel blows his trumpet? The world will be taken unawares, and here are some of the pos- sible aspects of humanity at the trum- pet's call. There are a multitude of individuals in the picture, swept instant- ly from a multitude of duties and diver- sions. The summons takes no excuse and permits of no delay. Some of the figures shown are still attending to busi- ness, while others stick as tenaciously to pastimes. Folly pursues pleasure and vanity persists in habit. The apple- cart man holds to his cart and the organ- grinder to his organ, their only solid possessions. And the element of sur- prise shown in many figures and postures illustrates the general uncertainty of destination. For the world, Gabriel is al- ways blowing his trumpet. Every minute men and women are answering its call. Inclined to Get Under It. LITTLE holly, now and then, Is relished by the married men; But tastes of maidens---well, you know, They lean toward the mistletoe. Poor Father. “WELL, what did you get on Christ- mas?” “A notice from the bank that my ac- count was overdrawn.” Suspicious. Nurse—“Here is a little brother for Christmas.” Johnny—“Looks like some one had passed on the one they got last year.’’ - - - - - - CHRISTMAS SOMEWHERE. - - - -rººveſ A. Christmas Heroes. HE PARENT who trundles a load of presents home at midnight, so that the children won’t see them. The host who carves the turkey of all the choice parts and then looks happy while he eats what is left. The young man who starts for a bunch of girls under the mistletoe and kisses the one who is too old to run away. The kid who won’t ask Santa Claus for a bobsled and pair of skates because his mother is afraid he will break his neck or get drowned. The newlywed who will pretend to like his wife's first mince pie and ask for another piece. The fond parent who will work all night with an axe and saw to adapt the Christmas tree to the modern flat. The married man who wears the neck- tie and smokes the cigars his wife gave him. The good-natured man who rigs him- self up to impersonate Santa Claus at the children's entertainment. The fellow who hocks his overcoat to ouy his girl a present. The present-givers who stint them- selves the rest of the year in order to keep up appearances. Last, but not least, the man who re- fuses to tip the janitor. ANOTHER CHRISTMAS FIFTY YEARS AGO. The Gay Yuletide. By ELIZABETH PENN THORNE. OW comes the season of the year When gifts pour in from every side, And joyous chaos reigns supreme- The hall-mark of the gay Yuletide. What matters it if half your gifts Spell repetition without end? That’s not the thing that counts; it's all The loving thoughts that people send. And so, though wrappings should disclose Half-hose enough to stock a store, And smoking-jackets line each chair, And four-in-hands are yours galore, It matters not at all, because The real joy always will amount Not to the way gifts classify, But to the loving thoughts they count. Borrowing Trouble. Ted—“I hope you gave your girl a Christmas present that will cause her to long remember you.’’ Ned—“I don't know about that; but it’s a constant reminder to me, for I bought it on the installment plan.” Scientific Facts about Christmas. By Ho MER CR0 Y. N South America luscious fruit is eaten under an electric fan on Christ- mas Day. In St. Vladivostok, Russia, the house- hold servants refuse to take a Christmas tip. Merchants and shopkeepers in some cities in Europe don't present their bills until two months after Christmas. A happy idea. province in Bavaria has passed a law making it an offense to give a tie as a Christmas present. In Vlaatsburg the fuel dealers present their customers with a ton of coal on Christmas Day. In New Freeland the man does not have to carve the roast, it being con- sidered better form to have the butler serve it. In Spitzdorf, Utopia, the city clears off the sidewalk free of charge Christ- mas morning. A Christmas Acrostic. Alluring associations, Mistletonian merriment, Essential enthusiasm, Restless rejoicing, Relished refreshment, Yuletide yearnings, Cheerful congeniality, Holiday heartiness, Remunerative regard, Irresistible invitations, Seasonable sentiment, Thoughtful tenderness, Monetary magnanimity, Affectionate affability, Successful surprises. - Harvey Peake. Improved. Crabshaw–“Don’t you think, my dear, that you bought a rather inferior lot of Christmas presents to give your friends?'" Mrs. Crabshaw—"They'll look all right when I’ve put them in these sweet little boxes and tied them up with this lovely ribbon.” Geºrge Carlsº A H O L I D A Y W I S H By JOHN A EN/OR/C K ºf NGs. HEN SANTA CLAUS doth visit me NEVER CARED for solitaire. W With richly laden pack of toys. I I do no not pine for lonely things. And tumbles down my chim-i-ney I love the pleasure I can share To scatter 'round his Christmas joys, Because of all the fun it brings. I trust that he will bring the kind A selfish pleasure loses zest That can be shared, for it is true, With none to share it with you by, Past peradventure to my mind And shrinks the longer 'tis possest, That joy is sweeter shared by two. While joys divided multiply. 1. Ah suttenly does feel sorry foah yo' all. + Ain't got no pertection foah dat ol' bald head.” The Woman “CoME right up on the porch, Mr. Interviewer. And please don’t take off your hat for me—I’m not roy- alty. I can get a chair myself, if you please! My age? Forty-six next March —and I think I look it, don’t you? Have a cigar? They’re very mild-I can’t stand black ones yet. Now: Yes, my next book is to be called ‘The Dearslayer.” It’s not a parody on J. Fenimore, either, but a thrust at those of our sex who still per- mit themselves to be “deared’ to death by men. “Oh, don't mind those ashes! My husband can clear them away. Now that you mention race sui- cide, I want to be put on record as opposing the movement. I am willing to run the risk of sex sui- cide—men never perish at the birth of their children, you must admit —with always the hope of bear- ing a daughter who may one day be President! Motherhood has been unspeakably ennobled by woman being granted her rights, you see. I draw no line of distinction in ºy HENRY PHILLIPS. derful how much several thousand years of inactivity can undo for a human be- ing ! Our weakness has become a habit. Aren’t our cooks, for example, stronger than many of our husbands? When will woman doff her barbaric plumage—her peacock gowns, lace, rings on ears and hands, feathered hats, and fol-de-rols? 2. “Hol' on darl Doan' yo' git gay wid me.’’ of To-morrow. informed confidentially by a woman scientist of high standing that hair cut off the head would grow on the face in time if properly coaxed. She insists that's the way men got 'em. Her hus- band invented the Lady's Painless Safety Razor. On that authority Shav- ing Clubs have been organized all over the country. My club has pre- sented me with a gold safety razor. Several of my friends are culti- vating hair moles on their faces, while my mother has a mustache that many a man may envy. I trust I inherit it! “How about women sailors, women policemen, women stokers? But why go on when I simply ask, how about men dressmakers, men nurses, men cooks, ad infinitum ? In the future it will be merely a matter of supply and demand-- and who answers the want ad. first. Down with the barrier' We don't want your seats in pub- lic conveyances, so don’t give them up and grumble about it. Give up the sham of appearing sex. Woman; man—a skirt di- to win the woman you want. vides them. I say, divide the skirt Give us the credit we deserve then | Yes, pants! We’ve been M SHIFTING THE RESPONSIBILITY. and be honest. And if Miss Air- Miss-“I wonder why this Santa Claus myth is kept alive?” - weblegged long enough. - Take Missus-“Oh, that is so the children can't blame their par- dale does chase Mr. Catt into the away the unsanitary curtain, and ents for their disappointments.” marriage net, that’s not a suf- the mystery for Peeping Toms is gone and the noble vocation of many men hanging around windy corners is gone with it. I repeat, what man can do—woman can do it, too. She is his equal. “Carry a hod? A healthy baby weighs as much as your hod, doesn't it? Yes, she should do her share of military service. The Amazons conquered their male enemies, didn’t they? It’s won- Then you don't know why she wears them. To please, to charm, to capture the men, of course. With trousers, her gowns will go, likewise lace lingerie. As for rings in her ears, men bought them and put them there. We wear rings on our hands because men do, and suffrage will take feathers from the hats. Long hair has been unsanitary and bothersome long enough, and I was ficient reason why she should be a Catt forever after and that some dear, sweet girls for whom she alone is re- sponsible should be simply the little Catts—until some other man with a worse name comes along and labels them. Why shouldn’t he take her name for a change?—it’s often much prettier. Or, at least, they should be called the Airdale-Catts. “But the possibilities of the race have || || 3 * Look heah! you come back wif dat bumbril. now become too numerous to discuss fully. Give us a chance and we will produce a race of women that men will not want to pet into imbecility and who will treat with man on a rational basis only. Give us time and we will bring our institutions to the point where our sister Eve left off.” Young Scrooge. Young Scrooge enters the elevator and sees a little box hanging up, adorned with holly and red ribbon and bearing a card: “Remember the Elevator Boy. Merry Christ- mas!” “I remember you, Joseph,” he says. “I remember how you ran past me ninety-five times last summer, just to show me that you were running this elevator. I re- member you all right.” Y U C This Here. F Christmas mirth there was a dearth This year, and so, you see, The editor was happy for This little verse from me. Remarks of Santa Claus. Made to J. J. O'CONNELL 'M AFRAID the ladies will soon get soured on me if I don't have a vote to put in their stockings. The world is getting better, and now, with everything honestly stamped and labeled, I can hand out the presents without feeling that I'm an old fraud. I'm glad I am far away and don't hear what is said about me when the bills for all these things come in at New Year's. There doesn’t seem to be much in all this race-suicide talk. I should get through early this year, with a pack that isn't out of all propor- youngster at you house. Smith—"Great Scott! can you hear it that far?” Ah may need dat.” 4 tion. It's a lucky thing for me that women's hats growing again. It gets me all twisted when I have to put these mannish presents in the New Woman’s stocking. I feel sorry for the hard-luck fellows when I have to hand them some more lemons this year. No wonder I have such a lot of junk to deliver, for the rich have no little stockings to fill. are smaller HEARD, BUT NOT SEEN. Friend on next street—" Hello, Smith ! - I must get rid of all my drums, tin whistles, skates, and bobsleds before they inaugurate the safe and Christmas. There's something wrong with the world. I don’t have many presents to give out where most of the kids are. Sane HE aftermath of Christmas—devis- ing a way to pay for them all. I hear you have a iſ |*|| "| | | ' Did Ah say Ah felt sorry foah dat bird?' You Mistake Our Meaning. MAN is being sued in New York for $25,000 for kicking his cook. He is trying to prove an alibi. We make no guess at his guilt or innocence, but the very fact that a man might be accused of such an act strikes us breath- less with awe. to the kitchen, we do it through a crack in the door. And there have been times—we say this in whispers and urge that you let it get no further- when we would have been willing to borrow $25,000 and spend it upon the merely momentary lux- ury of one good, swift–Hush" we hear some one moving in the pantry | For heaven’s sake, hush! Her Choice. By TUDOR JENks. I HAVE found out the gift for my fair, The gift even she must admire; 'Tis neither bright snoods for her hair, Nor bonbons nor 'broidered at- tire. There are flowrets that nod in the dell, There are blooms on the upland and lea; But my lady disdains their weak spell– Such boons are too trivial for me. But I’ve found out the gift for my love— A gift without blemish or speck. 'Tis neither a ribbon nor glove— It's a whacking big certified check. Modern Facilities. Mrs. Cobwigger—“What was all that noise you were making on the roof?” Freddy—“I was building an aero- drome for Santa Claus, so he could land in his airship near our chimney.' When we give orders' THE OFFICER_OF THE DAY. " º _- – – – JAMES hour-oueñy FiAGº SIMILIS SIMILI CURANTUR. Girl (preparing little flat supper)—“You won't mind if I use my hands on these cakes, because "—— Student boy—‘‘Oh, go ahead, don't mind me. The Circus Press Agent T WAS Christmas Eve and the Circus Press Agent called in to see his old friend, the Editor. Everybody around the office was hard at work, and the Editor handed the Agent a slip of paper and said, “That is the program of a Sunday-school entertainment that is being given to-night. * I wish you would write a line about it and help us out.” “Sure!” said the Circus Man, and the following is his story of the Christmas ex- ercises he never saw : On Christmas Eve the Broadway Sunday School gave the Most Su- perb, Sumptuous, Sensational, Co- lossal, Multi-natured exhibition of unparalleled Christmas Features ever before seen, conceived, or at- tempted. Long before the hour for the performance to begin, the Enormous, New, Beautiful, rain- proof Church was filled to the doors with old and young, waiting with bated breath for the Bewilderingly Lavish Spectacle to begin. Prior to the Grand Triumphal Entry of the Children of the School, the re- nowned Mlle. Marie Murphie gave I'm just off a cattleboat where we ate like pigs ''' Writes about the Sunday-school Christmas Entertainment. By MORRIS ANDERSON. a wonderfully adroit and Astonishing performance on that most beautifully toned and difficult of all instruments— the Sunday-school Organ. At seven-thirty the fair musician RAMBLERS. He—“I bet you a kiss I steal a kiss from you.” She-“And I bet you two kisses you can't.” swung into the galloping strains of a march, the rear doors were thrown open, and there entered the Elegant, Spec- tacular, Classically Bewildering, Tre- mendously Resplendent Inaugural Grand Entree of the scholars of the Enor- mous Combined and United Classes, each led by its trainers and teach- ers, carrying costly banners and singing songs of Christmas cheer. Truly reproducing in Fabulous Magnificence and Profusion the Pomp of Pageantry and Splendors of the Ancients, together with the Colossal, Massive, Processional Marvels of the Orient. The Acme and Idealization of Gorgeousness, without peer or parallel. The Most Supremely Attractive and Super- eminently Grand processional Ava- lanche that has ever moved in Pomp and Glittering Splendor through any Sunday School in the Universe. The first feature on this all- feature program was the first ap- pearance on any stage of Little Miss Smitho, in a very Clever, Dexterous, and Sensationally satisfying presentation of the World’s Famous Masterpiece, “The Night Be- fore Christmas.” In the next event some very Amazing and Diversified athletic feats were fear- lessly performed with Rare grace and aplomb upon a Grand piano by the aston- ishingly clever expert in classical selec- tions—Miss Jeanette De Kellie. The next feature was a sextet of Superb and Pleasingly Fancy drillers and singing experts from the World’s Greatest Primary Department. Uni- versally recognized as peerless in their brilliant and beautiful costumes. Abso- lutely above the reach of all rivalry. The only Sunday School in all the land big enough, rich enough, or prodigious enough to produce such a miracle of Educated Action and Infallible calcula- tion. Display number four consisted of an Unequal and Unapproachable display of Christmas oratory by Parson Davis. At this point on the program came a Wild, Rash, Audacious, Impetuous ex- hibition of nerve and courage utterly un- paralleled among the Daring, Death Defying Deeds so often seen upon the usual Sunday School program; presented in its audacious yet artistic awfulness with such utter disregard of danger as to Astonish, Startle, and Stupefy the spectator. A Diabolical descent down absolutely perpendicular surfaces—truly a dizzy, Dreadful, dauntless trip—yet with a smile the Earth's Greatest Santa Claus dropped out of the chimney into the fireplace, and, with a supreme howl of glee from the youngsters, leaped to - --- --- % º - - “eccº - Dml IMMENSELY. He—“What sort of a part has she in your new show? She gets killed in the first act.” She-“She ought to. the center of the elevated stage and be- gan to open his pack. Simultaneously the two Enormous, Superb, Glittering, Transcendentally Beautiful Christmas trees flashed forth like some scene from glorious fairy land, each lighted by thousands of colored electric lights and Oriental candles. Each and every tree loaded with an overwhelming, unknown opulence of princely, priceless presents. Waxen dolls, alphabetical blocks, fables and legends of elf and Mother Goose lore superbly printed on costly linen, curious and pleasing animate and inanimate toys, and hundreds of other novel and SOMETIMES. “Yes, Aunt Mary went out without her rubbers, and now she is in heaven." “My, my what dreadful things result from a little carelessness.” Do you think she'll please the audience?” attractive features too numerous to par- ticularize. Positively and without fear of con- tradiction the two enormous, united Christmas trees contained more toys, books, and other features than were ever possessed by ten trees of like character. Tropical oranges and sacks of choicest candies were quickly passed to the happy, bright-faced children, and met with their instant and unqualified ap- proval and applause. Thus ended the most important, impressive, composite Christmas exhibitional enterprise ever conceived, so vast and multifarious in its combination of amusement features as to dazzle the intellect, and yet pre- sented to the scholars of this enormous Sunday School as free as the air you breathe. The Rubbish Receptacle. By LA TOUCHE HANCOCK. ALK about a schoolboy's pocket! Here I found a broken locket, Matches and a cake of soap, Garters and a piece of rope, Dirty ribbon, blue in bag, Empty pin paper and rag, Foot of stocking, powder spilt, Several tassels off the quilt, Scores of letters, rubber bands, Stuff for whitening of the hands, Pins for hair and pins for hat, With an ancient hermit “rat,” Rubbish, dust, and crumbs galore— All these things and plenty more, Topsy-turvy, in a mess, I discovered. Where? Well, guess! In a drawer—’twas really so— In my charming wife's bureau ! acce/~~~ a/o - + + x; * --> § s + $WW's 4 * Š § * “I’ll niver again Š’ come up Wool- * x- ** sey Street!” said Dennis O'Rafferty in fiery wrath to Hannah Flahey. “Moind that! Niver again to “23” “That suits me,” responded Hannah, moving away, her head lifted. “ Unliss,” pursued Dennis, as a clincher, “it skiddoos to some other parts.” “Perhaps it will do that for yees.” retorted Hannah disdainfully, but with a sinking heart. Dennis was a man of his word. - The mistress of the fateful number next morning looked into the kitchen. “Do I smell the bread burning? Oh, Hannah, you’ve quarreled with Dennis again!” The queenly maid was in tears. “It —it wuz a kiss,” she sobbed resentfully. “A kiss' I shouldn’t think that need cause a quarrel.” “And it did shure,” quoth Hannah, drying her tears with a lofty sniff. “He’s not to kiss me unless I say, an’ he tuk it. Niver again will I speak!” she cried passionately. “He’ll hear me kape sthill.” But that afternoon the mistress, hear- ing Hannah making a noise, impatiently By Mrs. H. C. CHAD wick. sought the reason, sighing because of lovers’ tiffs. ancient Celtic ruler, stood in the middle of the kitchen. Her work gown of red calico was certainly too short for the mode, yet quaintly becoming; her black coat-she had evidently been out—a neat-looking garment. Her hat, beyond criticism because much misshapen as from rough treatment, was receiving, as the lady entered, a vicious kick. “Oh,” cried Hannah, at sight of her, “that I should have the mean luck to meet Dinnie, driving his tipcart, in this old dress!” pathetically holding out the scant folds. “In this old coat!”—the garment received a mauling. “In this.” —away it went across the kitchen again —“old hat!” Hannah tore her hair and wept. “It seems you do relent, after all,” said the mistress. “No”—as the front bell rang—“you needn't go; it’s only the man altering the street numbers. The city has ordered it done.” - - - - - - Sunday afternoon, a repentant Dennis O'Rafferty, attempting to make no sac- rifice of the dignified, strolled very slowly up Woolsey Street. “I said,” he murmured, “I’d niver agin come to “23, ” unliss the number skiddooed to other º --- º º º VT- - - - - - -- I - || || º | || - - - *-*. |- - ºnºsº.º. The girl, the image of an - **----> -* -- ºr - - - T H E S O C I A L S CAL E. 4× The Skid do o in g of “ 23.” - **** parts.” He smiled +. sorrowfully at the * yº *. hopeless case of Xº- * 4x this insane notion, but paused as he approached the house, his mouth unbecomingly open in amazed joy. The door number read, “15” Awaking to the Fact. A firecracker struck him full and square, A rocket struck him in the same plump way, A stout torpedo struck him; then and there It struck him that 'twas quite a holi- day ! Smoke and Fire. The Americans are forever on the go; there are candles, too, that are always roamin’. The brave soldier faces the powder, and the lady he adores- We really find it hard to say it. The pistol takes the chief part in the dramatic story on the morning after; it was bound to make a hit. Because a man has a bullet head it doesn't make it easier for him to make his mark in the world. —Nathan M. Levy. HIS 136th BIRTHDAY. º Sºº §º º º ºwº EXCHANGING COMPLIMENTS. A glance, a smile, a happy word In compliment, een though it flatter, Will please the fair when seen or heard: And whence it comes it does not matter. This parrot, answering a call, Full often is inclined to jolly, For to its mistress's "Pretty Poll!" It quickly answers “Pretty Molly!" º : 2. af **.*.*.i. f THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN : GRADUATE LIBRARY * DATE DUI: * $ t & A. * > ; } 24 k J | . º, . } *** *- * **** **** į DD NOT REM0WE * [JR MUTILATE [. ARD ſſſſſſſſſ （ ）ſaeſſae├─ſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſſ！！！įſaeſae - - ， ！ |× - ---