The Sunday Oregonian., December 09, 1900, PART THREE, Page 27, Image 27

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THE SUNDAY OREGONIAN, PORTLAND, DECEMBER 9, 1900.
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TAW" IS SORELY TRIED
Rends a Poem on "Thanksgiving"
to Inattentive Family Circle
ntd Finally Gets Mad.
"One of the best Things In life." paw
sed when he got thru Eating Thursdy
nlte "Is poetry. Some people are so Dizzy
trying to get more munny than they ust
to think they would no "What to do with
with that they Don't have time to read
ennythlng But the market report, and
prltty soon their Harts get as hard as It
Is to find a Gurl that'll tend to the Fur
nace and do the Washing besides getting
the Meals. Everybuddy ot To read poe
try sometimes becoz It makes them noble
and Forget tho poor mean little things
that bother folks when they are no music
In their sole.
"Today I was reading a nice piece that
tutched my Hart and made me Think
how thankfull we all ot to Be in this
Fambly becoz others are So mutch worse
off. This is a Solium time, when Every
buddy that hasn't a wooden laig or the
pendeseetus should be Glad, so if you'll
keep quiet I'll read It and you can all
See why Thanksgiving ain't a Hollo
mockery: .
"When the Ice Is on The river
And the sno Is on the HIU.
r hen the flowers In the meddo
Lie like Steeping Children, still
Below the grate, white Blanket
that the
"Say," little Albert hollered, - becoz I
happened to twist his thum when he was
trying to Get his nife out of my hand,
"now you gim me That! Maw, make him
gimme my nife."
"Hush," maw says, "and llseen to the
poem."
"Paw" Resumes.
Paw looked at us over the top of His
glasses awhile and then commenced
again:
Belo the grate white Blanket
That the watchful mother's tossed
acrost and tucked around Them
To preteckt Them from the Frost,
"What a joy to Have the loved ones
where the Are Blazes brite.
All sereen and Truly thankfull.
On the clad thanksgiving nlte!
"I tell you that goes rite to the Hart,"
paw says. "It makes abuddy a nobuller
and Better- man. And, now boys, con
found It, quit your flghtln' there! Here
we are, warm and Happy, with all of us
Spalred to each other and Sunshine in
our lives. How thankful we ot to be.
When the -wind Goes howling fiercely
Through the cold. Deserted street,
and the Begger trudges, onward
Glad to get a crust to eat.
When the sines are creaking, creaking.
As v
"Oh, Mary," maw sed, jumping up
when She herd the girl Starting out,
"you no we Want sossldge for break
fast." Mary sed she new it, and paw ast maw
If She wanted to hear the rest of the
poem or not.
"Go on," maw Told him, "I'm llssen
lng." "You must be," paw sed. "Here I
came to the Sublime part with my sole
all Eat up and by George your mind is
Full of sossldge. i
"When the sines are Creaking, creaking.
As they swing abuv the Doors,
and the lltes are pall that Flicker
In the windows of the stores.
What a Joy to have the loved ones
gathered where it's warm and Brlte,
free from hunger and from sorrow.
On the Glad thanksgiving nlte.
Cause to Be Thankful.
"That's a bewtifie plckcher. Just think:
how gloreyous it is For us to be Sitting
here all Happy and free From care when
they are Others with no Roofs abuv their
heads and no Brlte fire blazing in the
Great. We ot to be ashamed For not
singing hlms of Praise, or even not notus
ing Little trubbles we haft to Bare. But
here's the verse that Tutches my hart
the Most:
When the Ship goes madly plunging
Where the Icy waters flow
"Albert," maw sed. "quit trying to
Poke that pensul In The Baby's ear."
"Gimme that pensul!" paw told him.
"Now you sit Down, and keep quiet or
I never Saw sutch a blame fambly as
this In my life.
When the train goes madly shrieking
Through the clouds of whirling snow,
when at Last
"Oh goodness!" maw hollered at mo.
"Look out or you'll rock on the Baby's
foot."
"Get out of that rocken chair," paw
Bays. "Confound It, don't You no enny
better than, -to sit there Rocking away
Like If you would never have anuthei
Chanct!
When, at Last, the faithful watchman
Falls Beside the lonely gate
And the widow and the orphans
Through he weary hours wait.
What a Joy it Is to
"Mercy sakes!" maw sed. Jumping up
and making a rush for the Lamp, that was
turned Too high and got to neerly Blaz
ing out of the Top: "paw would you sit
right here till they was a nexploslon
without ever notusing It, and Let us all
Get blew up?"
"Pair" Gets Mad.
Then paw Dubblcd the poem all up and
was Going to throw it In the fire, but It
didn't Go strate. so I got It.
"All I haft to Say," he sed when He put
on his hat and Overcote to go Out on the
Portch and cool off, "Is that the watch
man who Got froze beside the Gate was
lucky. I'll "bet that fool poet was a
Batcheller and Lived alone In Some hut."
Georgle In Chicago Times-Herald.
SCIENTIFIC INCCBATION.
Remarkable Growth of & Four-Hour
Feathered Biped."
It was at the crossroads general store
and the usual gathering of farmers was
present. The subject had drifted around
to chickens and incubators, when a
stranger, a little man, spoke up In this
way:
"Speaking of incubators, gentlemen. I
used to be something of a farmer myself.
I was known In the neighborhood as 'the
scientific farmer,' for I used always to
figure out my farming plans carefully and
scientifically. From a scientific standpoint,
therefore, my farm- was a decided success,
but financially It was otherwise, as I gave
It up eventually and went Into a mercan
tile business.
"But about Incubators. I conceived the
Idea of hatching chickens in four hours.
Kow. I argued, that if it took a days,
or 504 hours, at 102 degrees of tempera
turo to develop and hatch a chicken, a
rS8,o
proportionate degree of heat could be
figured out to do the job In lour hours,
care being taken to figure out the propor
tionate number of times to turn the eggs.
"To make the story short and not tire
you, I rigged up my incubator, built my
fire under it, as it had to be pretty warm,
yon know, and sat myself down to turn
those eggs, every half-minute.
"Now, to be exact, I should have turned
them every 312 seconds, but I thought
every half-minute was near enough, and
the result was that out of 13 eggs in the
incubator, only one hatched.
"I was tickled half to pieces when at
the end of the four hours I heard him
peep and saw him burst the shell, and
pop out. I quickly shoved the pan of
meal over to him and imagine my amaze
ment when I saw him devour the quan
tity I had prepared for the whole 13 in
about a third the time it should have
taken the whole number to eat it. Well,
I hustled Into the house and brought out
half a peck of cracked corn. By the time
I cot back he had grown to the size of a
month's-old chicken, and he started right
in on the corn, only stopping to Jake big
mausuis oi waier. .uiu uu juu n.iiu, j.
could fairly see that chicken grow.
"By the middle of the afternoon he had
developed into a fine young rooster, and
occasionally would lift up his head to take
a look at the place and give vent to a
little squeaky crow. By night he was
a full-grown rooster, and the next day at
10 o'clock he died of old age, as tough an
old bird as you ever saw. He had lived
exactly 24 hours.
"I figured afterwards that If he had
been a hen he would have 'laid eggs when
he was about seven hours old, and also
that tho eggs would have gone bad in
about 40 seconds.
"I thought of raising chickens by this
process and killing them at about the
Spring-chicken age for market, but con
cluded that if this one had died at the
speed with which he lived that the carcass
would have putrlfied before I could have
gotten It into the pot. Hence I con
cluded that the scheme was financially
Impracticable and never tried it again.
Philadelphia Inquirer.
"Won't Do It Again.
It happened at a hotel not far from the
famous, busy Strand. He was a man of
serious Intentions, and numorous atten
tions, and she was rich and wedable. On
Monday night he was there, and they sat
In the hall under the stairway. It was a
nook for lovers. There wasn't a soul in
sight, and he thought his golden oppor
tunity had arrived. Down he flopped
upon his knees and clasped her hand.
"Dear one." he whispered, not very
loud, but loud enough, "I have loved you
with the whole strength and ardor of a
man's nature, when It Is roused by all
that Is pure and good and lovely In
woman, and I can no longer restrain my
pent-up feelings, I must let you know
what Is In mv heart, and tell you that
never yet has woman heard from my lips
the secrets that are throbbing and"
Just then a rustle was heard on the
stairs above them, and a card fastened
to a thread swung down and dangled not
two inches from the lover's nose. On It
were these portentous words: "I am some
thing of a liar myself."
Then the awful truth flashed upon him
and he fled. As he went out of the door
16 girls at the head of the stairs sent
16 laughs out Into the damp night air
after him. He makes no love In hotels
now. London Weekly Telegraph.
Too Honest for Htm.
A well-known young lawyer who has
an office In the Equitable. Building, took
in a new office; boy several days ago, and
having suffered to some extent from the
depredations of the former one, he de
termined to test the boy's honesty at
once.
He placed a 5 note under a weight on
his desk arid walked out without a word.
"Upon Tils return a half hour later the
notb was gone, and a silver half-dollar
had taken Its place.
He turned sharply on the boy.
"When I went out of here I left a $5
bill under the weight."
"Yes, sir," Interrupted the boy. "but
you hadn't been gone Ave minutes when
a mau came in here with a bill against
Annt Haitian's Turkeys.
'Twas Just before Thanksgiving time
That Deacon Barnes came in
To have a talk with Uncle Nate
About original sin.
Aunt Huldah drove her turkeys home
That was old times, you know
While he and Uncle "Nathan told
Smart things ot long ago.
They sipped their rum, and, one by one.
Threw out the cherries in the sun.
The turkey cried, "Quit, quit, quee-e-lt. quit!"
But soon they seemed to think the fruU
Perhaps was meant for them;
The gobbler ventured near and stared.
The deacon said, "Ahem!
I kinder guess, 'twlxt you an me.
The tariff laws are wrong,"
But slyly watched the cautious fowls;
He know the rum was strong.
The turkey hens marched up in state
And eyed the gobbler while he ate.
Still mldly saying, "Quit, quit, quee-e-lt.
quit!"
He didn't quit, they helped themselves.
So did the long-necked little chicks.
And oh! I'm sure you never saw
The turkey tribe In such a fix.
They goggled, strutted, dragged their wings
And tripped each other down.
And for an hour or two were Just
The drunkest things In town.
In vain Aunt Huldah stormed or cried,
"You couldn't stop 'em If you tried,'."
Tho deacon said, "Quit, quit now, Huldah,
quit!"
"It beats my recknln how them birds
Will be sech pesky fules
And take their tonic out o' time.
Agin allnat'ral rules!"
And then they laughed like Jolly monks
And sipped their cherry rum
Until the deacon said, "Well, Nate.
I must be glttln' hum."
While still, like others we may know,
Each turkey staggered to and fro
And told the rest to "Quit, quee-e-lt, quit!"
And then Aunt Huldah came to me,
As if I was the "Jedge,"
To know if selling drunken birds
Would break her temperance pledge.
But Uncle Nate set down bis mug,
Saying, "Clar fort I wux dry!"
And with the remnants of the fun
SU1I twinkling In his eye.
Said. "Wonder ef It didn't break
When you put brandy in the cake.
"We're all to blame. I guess; let's call It quits!"
Isabel Darling In San Francisco Call.
The "Withered Rose.
"He la so cold!" she said, and sighed;
"His heart is abut within
The shell enchanted of his old
Cremona violin."
They met and passed and as she west
She dropped upon the stair
A rose that opened in the soft
Brown sunshine of her hair.
The maid forgot her dream of love.
Another man to wed.
Tears after came a dawn that found
The white-haired minstrel dead.
With viol In upon bis breast.
His soul bad taken wings
And, lo! a rose, a withered rose.
Was tangled In the strings.
New England Xagaxtn.
you for i 50. I guess the change Is cor
rect." "You paid the bill?"
"Yes, sir; there it Is, receipted. The
man said It had slipped your mind lor
the past four years and so"
There is another boy In the office now,
and the lawyer will take his honesty for
granted. Memphis Scimitar.
Perfection.
The Maiden asked: "Can you make me
beautiful?"
"For $3," said the Witch, "I can make
you so beautiful that all the men will
turn to stare at you as you pass."
The Maiden smiled disdainfully. Her
experience had taught her this was not
such an easy matter.
"For $S 75, former price $9," said the
Witch, "I can make you so beautiful that
the photographer will copyright your pic
tures." Still the Maiden, unsatisfied, shook her
head.
"For $14 and only one at the price,"
said the Witch, "I can make you so
beautiful that you will not have a wom
an friend In all the world!"
"Ah," cried the Maiden, rapturously,
"that will be beauty, indeed." Life.
How He Disposed of Hint.
"Yesslr," said the returned Klondlker,
"one of my dogs Just a common mon
grelsaved my life."
"And you were not heartless enough to
sell him, were you?" they asked.
"Naw. I ate him." Indianapolis Press.
Acconnted For. ,
"What seems to be the matter with
him?" asked the doctor, approaching the
bedside of the man who lay swathed In
bandages.
"He found the gas leak," explained the
nurse. Chicago Tribune.
REVISED VERSION
... . . - i .'.'-
In the days of old Rameses, or, at any rate, a long time ago, the Fox and the Stork both lived in the same Flat Building, and, accord
ing to Hlstorlans,tbeywereon Visiting Terms and got alonr In Neighborly Fashion, the One with the Other.
So the Fox Invited the Stork to dinner, and, for a Joke, servd the meat in a shallow dish In the form of Consomme, in which the
Stork could do no more than moisten his long Bill, while the Fox greedily made away with the Dinner.
"I am sory you didn't enjoy the meal," said the Fox, "but I must have my little Joke."
Tou see. Jokes, or at leat some Jokes, must have been comparatively new In the Days of old Rameses, and the Fox bore always the
reputation of being up to Date, So be must have his little Joke.
The Stork, however, took It all In good Nature, and forthwith made a Return Date, when the Fox was to repay the Visit and Dins
with the Stork. x
When the Time came-, however, and the Fox was Ushered out Into the Dining Room he realized that he was up against the same old
game, for the Crafty Stork had served the Dinner In a long-necked Jar much like the "Vahse" of our more modern Times.
Into this the -Stork could easily dip his long Bill, while the Fox saw at a Glance he would be unable to Partake. So. crafty old Fox
that he Was, he complained of Rheumatism, and. affecting a Limp, hobbled over to the Jar.where he clumsily stumbled, and In Falling he
brought down his cane with a vicious Thump In such a manner as to completely Demolish the earthen Jar.
"Wouldn't It Jar you?" cried the Fox. by way of Apology.
"Wouldn't It make you Mad?" echoed the Stork, discomfited. But tho Fox made no reply, for he was exceedingly Busy. R. W. Taylor.
In Chicago Tribune.
Oh, Chrysanthemum!
Full blown you beam
And glint and gleam
Each petal's like a fishbone.
And at the foot
Ball match you're put
On Arabella's wishbone.
'Tls there you shine
And never pine.
While panting like the grampus
Each player glides
And slips and slides
And bumps along the campus.
Chrysantheumm! Chrysanthemum!
Tou are the whiskered bloom
That blows apace
And lights with grace
Thanksgiving's pensive gloom.
Tou lightly bob
And glow and throb
Athwart the flowered damask
And thrill to hear
Fair Gulnlvere
For turkey or for bam ask.
Tou charm the board
Whose gobbler lord
Begllds our fairy vision
And see the gay
Bird tucked away
With swiftness and precision.
Chrysantheumm! Chrysanthemum!
Today your happy fate
It Is to be
From sea to sea
The turkey's running mate.
Chrysanthemum,
To stay you've come.
Tour glory fate can stop sot;
.From morn till night
All feel the light
That glimmers on your topknot.
All swear by you.
For It's as true
As that we are all living.
With you away
-Thanksgiving day
Would hardly be Thanksgiving.
Chrysantheumm! Chrysanthemum!
You're here, and ever may
It be your fate
To make elate
And gild Thanksgiving day.
New Tork Herald.
The Might of Steam.
The song ot the ship of the bellying sail
Has oft been "sung before;
How she" st&nchly rode the shrieking gale
Mld tbe crashing breakers' roar.
The praise ot the sturdy coach of mall
Has proved a stirring theme.
As It recklessly rushed o'er hill and dale
Drawn by its foam-flecked team. ,
But the energy locked In the diamond black
Since first the world began.
Has yielded Its prison power bock
To work the will of man;
And their liner swift plows the mighty mala
Where erst the white wings flew.
And the steed of steel skims the pathless plain
Which the mall coach never knew.
The lathe, the drill, the press, the loom.
The winch, the walking beam.
The many power plants that bloom.
Attest the might of steam;
Bat the greatest good it has ever borno
There Un't a doubt of that
Is when In the cool December mors
It radiates through your flat,
M. W. Pool In NVw Tok Fin.
EASY ROAD TO FORTTOfE.
Offlce Boy Explains His Scheme to
Police Reporter.
The office boy, ever hopeful of striking
some scheme that would win him sur
den fame and fortune, thought he had
discovered It at last, but being slightly
doubtful of his own judgment, sought a
bit of advice.
"Say, dey ain't no' law 'gainst a feller,
sellln dogs, just any old dogs. Is dey?"
he asked anxiously of the police re
porter. "No; not if the dog Is honestly ac
quired and a purchaser Is accessible."
"Now. on de level." urged the boy, "this
ain't no josh. Kin a feller do it?" He
seemed puzzled by the wordiness of the
reply he had secured.
"Well, yes; If It is 'on the level, as
you say, he can sell dogs."
"Dat's all I wanted to know, so as to
make the scheme good."
Then he unfolded the scheme in his
own somewhat Involved way.
"You see, dere's a lot o' guys what Is
got dogs what ain't no good 'cep'n to
a guy what knows what to do wld 'em.
Now, suposln a guy what is wise goes
to dese other guys what is got the dogs
and gives 'em a con talk about the dogs
beln no good, the guys what Is got the
dogs will be good and ready to give 'em
up for a small piece of coin seeln' the
wise buy got busy tellln 'em a license was
three bucks and a half, which was more'n
de dogs was worth, anyhow."
"But why does 'the wise guy want a
worthless dog?" asked tthe adviser, some
what mystified.
"I'm comln' to dat now, he explained,
"the bummer the dog the better for the
scheme
"You see, it's like dls," he continued.
"A lot a guys Is got delivery wagons
what they can't stay with all the time,
OF THE OLD TALE OF THE FOX AND THE STORK.
Mlncc Pie.
fWrltten Before Thanksgiving.)
Thou pie!
Proud, rich descendant of
The House of Mince. ,
In making which the housewife
Nothing stints.
The hour draws nigh
When thou
Toward our Inmost midst shall
Glide,
There to repose and
Painfully abide
Bathed but unharmed by all the
Gastric flood
And
Sending
Restless fevers through ' . ,
Our blood
Until our erstwhile t r
Peaceful couch ' x
Is changed
Unto a den of animals that ranged
The prehistoric earth. In
Dreams we see
The red-winged hippopotamus; '
The three .
Heads of the yellow
Dragon; ' .
Darting fangs of '
Snakes; '
While wild orang-outangs i
Play tag . -
Across the counterpane;! ,'-,
And birds
Of aspect strange beyond all
Human words
Shriek , , v
.Madly: till at last I
Tho form appears '
Of come ' fc
Great-great-great-grandmother, , , j
Who cheers
Our sleep with words that make
Us cold as Ice . ,;
And chide because wo took f Jt
That second slice! , f F .
Thus do ' ' 'I !
Tho sonls of all the ; -
Unknown things ' . ' f
Whereof tbou'rt made. s
Come back J 1
To haunt our couch In " 1
Grim parade. ; , .1 ! ? j
Until, awaking with an
Awful groan, t
We swear to let thee
Evermore . :! .
Alone! . .
Thus Arm our f
Resolution's made and yet I
As months roll on we
Very soon j
Forget.
And, .go through all
These hideous scenes next year,
"When onco again
Thanksgiving-time draws near!
, Colorado Springs Gazette. "
Through Different Eyes.
One thought her eyes were heavenly eyes;
He watched them upward roll.
And then called them. !n his lofty way.
The "windows of her soul."
Another looked awhile and turned
And coldly shook his bead:
"Now. I should call them fishy eyes,"
Is sneering tones he sold, v
Chlcar TtmT-TTr-M
and when they goes in to deliver an
order or something some other guy Is
likely to cop out a bunch of stuff from
de wagon and duck wid it.
"The scheme Is to get a lot a bum dogs
what gets scared if you comes near 'em,
and sets up a holler you kin hear a mile.
Now, If a guy buys a lot a bum dogs like
that he kin sell 'em to the guys what Is
got the delivery wagons for a buck
apiece, and make money on 'em.
"The guy with the wagon can tie the
bum dog to the seat, and the minute any
other guy goes to swipe a bundle the bum
dog gets busy wld his hollerln. and
either the guy ducks or the guy what
has the wugon takes a tumble and rub
bers." "Why wouldn't a good dog do as
well " was asked.
" 'Cause they don't holler, and there
ain't no dog that don't holler that Is any
'good. A scrappln dog gets too busy
scrappln'. and the guy what tries to pinch
the stuff generally gets away wld the
goods.
"Don't you think it's a good scheme?"
he asked earnestly. Chicago Tribune.
HIS NOSE ITCHED.
Obliging Road Agent Scratched It
for Him.
Years ago in California a traveler was
on a stage coach that a pair of bandits
went through. The 14 passengers were
all made to get out and stand In a row,
with their hands high over their heads.
One burly ruffian stood guard over them
with a double-barreled shotgun, while
the other engaged in the pleasing task
of relieving them of their valuables and
spare cash. This particular traveler was
nearest the man with the shotpnn.
While the ceremonies were in progress
his nose began to itch, and instinctively
The Stein.
Talk of goblets made of gold
In Duke of Alva's reign;
Noc how your fathers lorded them,
And Spanish nobles hoarded them.
When reckless rovers boarded them
With lust for golden gain!
They're only put up there for show.
So cease you to explain.
Tour ancestors oft caught for them
The deuce from those who sought for them.
Who cursed ind swore and fought for them,
m Upon the Spanish main!
II.
And, pouf ! for all your famous glass
Lined on the sideboard there!
'Twas fashion who first vaunted them.
At once her fools all wanted them.
In glass shops hourly haunted them
To find a cut more rare!
Though champagne fill them to the brim.
They're less to me, I swear.
Than these poor fools who keep o'er them
A mighty vigil, weep o'er them.
And, lastly, fall asleep o'er them.
Beneath some dinner chair!
III.
So ho! my Gretchen, buxom lass,
I want no tricky wine.
But amber nectar bring to me.
Whose rich bouquet will cling to me.
Whose spirit voice will sing to me
From cut the mug divine!
Eo here's your toll a kiss away,
Tou Hebe from the Rhine!
No goblet's gold means cheer-to me.
Let no cut glass get near to me
Go, Gretchen, haste the beer to me.
And put it In the stein!
Harold MocGrath In Syracuse Herald.
"When Jemima Bakes a Cake.
Lawrence Porcher Hext In Leslie's Weekly.
"! Morning.
There's a lot of wild excitement In the lady
cook's domain;
She's gesticulating wildly and attempting to
explain.
With profuse vociferations she goes hurrying
about.
Breaking kitchen-ware and leaving wreck and
ruin in her route.
But I'll bet It's nothing serious; Til place my
life at stake
That Jemima has declared that she Intends to
bake a. cake.
Noon.
From the kitchen to the dining-room there's
flour on the floor;
And lmarlntr ot floury fingers are upon the
pantry door.
Divers shattered egg-shells nestle In the cush
ion of my chair.
And the odor of vanlla Impregnates the atmos
phere. ' ,
But rm not surprised or puzzled, these are
signs I can't mistake;
They ore things to be expected when Jemima
bakes a cake.
Xight.
From the cellar to the garret there's an end
less wall of ;aln;
Through the house the groans re-echo and re
verberate again.
Shoeless feet across the carpet patter to the
physic chest, .
When we search for some narcotic to relieve
the soro distressed.
Botemas's drops, or paregoric, something for
the stomachache;
We are always thus afflicted whoa Jemima,
hakes a cake
he started to lower one hand to scratch It.
"Hands up, there" came the stern or
der, and his hand went automatically
back Into place.
But that Itching redoubled, and again
he essayed the relieving scratch.
"Say, what's the matter with you. any
how?" demanded the highwayman. "Are
you wishing to become a lead mine?"
"My nose Itches so I can't stand It any
longer," tearfully explained the sufferer.
"I simply have got to scratch it."
"No, you hain't," ungrammatically cor
rected the knight of the road, " 'cause
I'll do It for you."
And with that he proceeded to scratch
the offending nasal organ with the muz
zle of his shotgun. Troy Press.
IX OLD KENTUCKY.
Mr. Snicker Never Knew Hoir Near
He "Was to Being- Potted.
After supper I sat down for a smoke
and a talk with a squatter, but in about
half an hour he rose up and said:
"Waal, stranger, I'll hev to leave yo
fur an hour or so to visit with the old
woman and children."
I did not Inquire the reason for his de
parture, of course, but as he took his gun
and walked down the road the wife felt
called upon to explain:
"He uns jist swine down thar about a
mile to hunt."
"I see. Is this the coon season around
here?"
"Coons? Oh, no! Coonskins hain't wuth
shucks this time o y'ar."
"And the same with possums and wood
chucks, I suppose?"
"Sartln. No use to kill varmints In 'the
Summer."
Any bears around here?" I asked, won
dering what the squatter could be hunt
ing. "Reckon not, sah. Hain't nobody seen
a b'ar around yere fur many y'ars."
"But what kind of game do you have
around here that is hunted at night with
a gun?"
"Only jist folks, sah jist folks!"
"Do you mean that your husband has
gone to hunt a human being?"
"Yes, sah; that's It. Jim's gone to hunt
a man man named Snicker. Yes. Jim's
gone down to the crossroad to hunt Dan
Snicker."
"But where does Dan Snicker live?"
"'Bout five miles west. He un bin to
town today and has to go home by the
crossroads. Jim's bin layin' for him a
y'ar."
"And he will shoot him as he comes rid
ing along?"
"Sartln to! Dan Snicker him popped at
Jim once, but didn't hit. Sot over thar
In tho smudge, stranger, and the pesky
'skeeters won't bite so hard."
It was 11 o'clock and I was In bed when
Jim returned. The wife sat In the open
door smoking her pipe, and as the hus
band turned In from the road she calmly
Inquired:
"Pop him Jim?"
"No, Mandy."
"Fur why not?"
"Gun hung fire, and he got away."
"Shoo! Hev to try again!"
"Of co'se. Stranger turned in?"
"Yes; come 'long to bed!" Washington
Post.
Too Much Sense.
A doting Chicago father whose first
name is Arthur has a little daughter 4
years old. The family recently moved to
a " new locality in the city only a f ew
doors away from a street-car barn, where
several mules are kept.
The next morning after arriving at the
new home the little girl heard one of the
street-car mules braying. It was the
first time she had ever heard a mule
bray, and she listened for a long time be
fore she said:
"Mamma, Is that ono of papa's friends
calling him?"
"No," said her mother, "I hear no one
calling your father."
"Yes, there is," said the small girl.
"Listen, now; don't you hear him calling
'Ar-thur, Ar-thur, Ar-thur'?"
"Oh, yes, replied the mother. "I hear
him calling now. But that Isn't one of
your father's friends. He has more sense
than most of your father's friends."
Chicago Tribune.
Thanksgiving in the FIJIs.
L
A cannibal maid, with strong white teeth,
Sat up In a tree, one day.
And a missionary paused beneath.
For a pious little pray.
The man was fair and the maid was young.
And she showed that her heart was smlt.
She could only say "Goo!" In her native
tongue;
But his prayers hod made a hit. '
Sq the man climbed up as the maid climbed
down;
And they met on a big stout limb.
And they swung their feet, as he said, "My
sweet,"
And she said "Goo!" to him.
IL
They sat very close on the big stout limb.
And he taught her how to pray.
And he taught her to say "Kiss me" to him
In a fascinating way.
And he cared no more to Idly roam.
For her lips were ruby red;
The godly man was far from home.
And he straightway lost his head.
So they sat up closer and closer still.
" In their seat on the big stout limb.
And they swung their feetf as he said, "My
sweet,"
And she eald "Goo!" to him.
. uz
But the cannibal maid was sorely vexed.
And she knew not what to do.
The habits formed In her youth perplexed,
As she softly murmured "Goo!"
So tender and sweet the young man seemed.
She thought, "What a lovely stew
Or a roast he'd make," but of love she dreamed
As she softly murmured "Goo."
So she cuddled up closer and closer still,
In her seat on the big stout limb.
And they swung their feet, as he said, "My
sweet,'
And she said "Goo!" to him.
TV.
But time sped on and the noonday sun
Looked down. Thanksgiving day.
And saw that the race 'of love was run;
She had dined In her own sweet way.
For she sat alone on the big stout limb,
And she looked like a. dear young bride.
While the groom! She murmured at thought
of him.
"How happy I feel Inside."
But she missed him sadly In after days.
In her seat on the big stout limb,
For he couldn't say "Sweet" as she swung her
feet.
And sho couldn't say "Goo!" to him.
James Clarence Harvey in Chicago Times
Herald. Let Me Be Not Too Sure.
Let me not be of life's bequest too sure.
Nor hazard on a frail tomorrow's light.
But answering day's behest, forget Its lure,
Lest there shall rise no stars upon mx night;
Let me not rest on Joy's Improvidence,
Nor build upon the fabric of a dream.
Nor time's lrrevocablecoln cast hence.
However near Its fair fulfillment seem;
Thou, who alone host ward of certainties,
Let me not spend of gift or grace too scon.
Nor squander any sweet that therein lies.
But for high service keep the utmost boon
Lest T. shall be to sure, or seek to prove.
And break the alabaster box of love!
Virginia Woodward Cloud in Harper'a Bazar
Ifl
w
WANTEDA"DETECERTIVF"
His Untovvard "Experience With, an
Electrical Machine Sends Jan
Post Haste to the Police. ,
When he went Into police headquarters
he had a bundle under his arm. Ha
glanced from right to left as if he feared
that some one would jump out of a side
room and attack him. He breathed a
sigh of relief when he saw a uniformed
policeman In the corridor. Approaching
the policeman, he said:
"Please, mister, ven somebody do you
sometlng can I have a deteckertlve to go
on der place? Yes? No?
"That all depends," answered the po
liceman. "If you have a complaint to
make you will find Captain Stephenson In,
the information bureau, and he will at
tend to your case, as he is acting In
spector tonight."
The man with the bundle poked hla,
head through the doorway leading to tho
information bureau, and softly said:
"Vho is der Capitain?"
"I'm here," replied Stephenson; "what
can I do for you?"
"You can't do it," remarked the visitor.
"I first a deteckertlve "must had to ex
planation myself."
"I'm a detective," said the Captain; "go j
right on with your story."
"Vni on Der Boivery."
"All right," replied the visitor; "I will
begin on der commencing. I vere on der
Bowery, mebbe nummer vhat is It I
should live so vhen I He. I come on der
store vhere der banjo makes plunks und
der pictures come round mlt der penny
you put on der slop machine, und der
bells ring mlt nobody dere at all. Putty
soon a mens come to me und say if I
vant to hear der Mectrlclty for a nickel,
und I say 'Sure, vhy not?' und dey bring
me der room out behind der store and
tole me make myself ready for a shlv
ver. You understan dot business, Cap
itan?"
"Let me see. You were on the Bowery.
You walked Into one of those so-called
amusement parlors. Then you heard the
music from the electric banjo and spent
a few cents on the klnetoscope and work
ed the other penny-ln-the-slot machines.
Then two men brought you into a rear
room and asked you to try the electric
battery, advising you to get ready for
an electric shock. Yea, go right on with,
your story."
"Veil," continued the visitor. "Vhen
I come on der 'lectrlcity machines one
mans holded my left hand und dot -other
fellow holded my right hand. Vhat I
care for such a little pins und needles
business how It mlt 'lectriclty feels in.
my hands? I only laugh vhen they holded
der machine 'cause dey say dey got it
yet worser mlt der handle from, der ma
chine as vhat I got vhen I vere in do
middle holding dem fellow's hand. Den
comes a man vhat said he vere der boss
vhat owned dot machine. He speak like
he very angry mad awful und say:
Too Much lor Nothing;.
" 'Dot fellow in dpr middle got flvd
dollars' vorth too much of 'lectrlcity al
ready for nothing. How can dot he? I
can't pay der gas bills for such custom
ers.' Dot vere meant for me. Den ono
mans vhat holded my right hand tight
said dot It vould coat me two dollars)
vhen I didn't let go before der bell oa
der machine rings dlng-a-llng. Der oth
er fellow vhat holded my left hand tight
pulled yet more 'lectrlcity out und shout
ed: 'Quick, der bell vlll ring, let go.'
"And did you let go?" Inquired the cap
tain. "Vhat shall I do vhen dey holded myl"
hands full mlt 'lectrlcity? Could I make
myself out before der bell ring? No.
Der bell dings afore I get my hands
avay, und I had to pay two dollar be
cause I vere not too quick."
"And did you pay It?"
"Sure," said the stranger. "Der mensj
say dey couldn't let go on my hand vhen
der boss don't stop der 'lectrlcity ma
chine after der bell rings und dot vo
vould had to stay dere all night. I
shouted, 'Turn It out und I vlll pay,
und der boss outened der galvanizing
from der battery and der 'lectriclty
stopped. Den I let go und give dat man
two dollars. Vhen I told a other mans
about It In dot store he laughed und said
I got der ding dong. Vhat is it for a
ding dong; Is dot bunco steered?"
"I guess it was," replied the captain,
and he sent a detective out to inyestl-.
gate the matter. New York Sun.
Even This Didn't Please Her.
The experiment was not a success.
Frequently she had complained that ha
was not as he used to be; that his lova
seemed to have grown cold, and that ho
was too prosaic and matter-of-fact. So
when he found one of his old love letters
to her he took it with him next time ho
was called away from the city, made a
copy of it and mailed it to her.
"John Henry!" she exclaimed when ho
returned, "you're the biggest fool that
ever lived. I believe you have softening
of the brain. What did you mean by,
sending me that trash?"
"Trash, my dear," he expostulated.
"Yes, trash Just sickly, sentimental
nonsense."
"That Isn't how you described it when
I first wrote it and sent it to you," ho
protested. "You said then it was tho
dearest, sweetest letter ever written, andi
you insist now that I have changed, and
you haven't. I thought I wouldtry to"
"Well, you didn't succeed," sho Inter
rupted, and she was mad for two davs.
Sometimes it is mighty difficult to pleasa ,
a woman. Chicago Post.
Son-In-Lavr Granted It.
"Son-in-law." he said, as he called him
Into the library and locked the door, "you
have lived with me for two years."
"Yes, sir."
"And I have not charged you a penny?"
"No, sir."
"In family quarrels I've always iakea.
your part?"
"Yes, sir." j,
"And always helped you along?"1
"You have, sir."
"Then will you do mo a small favor?"-
"Certainly, sir."
"Then let it appear that the football
season ticket my wife picked up In my
room was yours, and call it square."
Weekly Telegraph.
"Oh, Bobby, Bobby! Everybody will
blame me if you misbehave."
"Well, ma, you kin blame It all bacK
on your pa an' ma."-Indianapolis Jour
nal. " '