ROUND
Un&jcpsctbd and Lively Expkri&nc& on Cqnev Island of
T,t c-usm AiTumTcAiimT a AMn PpnvR.s'.vnR. JShORTY iVl
SAY. who was tellin you? Ah. fwan!
Tbrm sea shore, press agents in full
of fried eels. Disguises nolhir.'!
Them folks I ban with me was the real
things. The Rev. Doc. Akfihead? Not
much. That wan my little old blHbop.
And It wa n t any slummln party at all.
It was Just a, little errand of mercy that
jot switched.
It was this way: The bishop, he chows
up at the studio for his reg'lar medicine
ball work, that I'm glvin' him so's he can
keep his equator from gettin' the best
of his longitude. That's all on the quiet,
though. Its somethin' I ain't puttln' on
the bulletin board, or lncludin In my list
of references, understand?
Well, we has had our half-hour session,
and the bishop has Just made a break for
the cold shower and the dresslnf" room,
while 1m preparin' to shed my workln'
clothes for the afternoon; when In pops
Swifty Joe. closln- the gym. door behind
him real soft snd mysterious.
- "Hhorty." says he In that hoarse
whisper he gets on when hes excited,
'"she's she's come:"
"Who's come?" says I.
'S-s-s-sb!" says he, wavln" his hands.
"It's the old girl: and she's got a grin!"
"Ah. say!" says I. "Come out of the
trance. What old girl? And what about
the irun?"
Maybe you've never seen Swifty when
he's real stirred up? He wears a cor
rugated brow, and his lower Jaw hangs
lonee, leavln' the Mammoth Cave wide
open, and his eyes bug- out like shoe
buttons. His thoughts come faster than
he can separate himself from the words;
so It's hard gettin' at Just what he means
to say. But as near as I can come to it
there's a wide female party waltln' out
In the front office for me. with blood in
her eye and a self cockin' section of the
unwritten law In her list.
Course. I knows right off there must be
some mistake, or else It's a case of dope,
and I says so. But Swifty Is plumb sure
she knew who she was askln' for when
she calls for me. and begs me not to go
out. He's for rlngin' up the police.
"Ring up nobody!" siiys I. "Spose I
want this thing gettin' into the papers?
If a Lady Bughouse has strayed in here,
we got to shoo her out as quiet as pos
sible, flie can't shoot If we rush her.
Come on!"
I will say for Swifty Joe that, while, he
ain't got any too much sense, there's no
ocher streak in him. When I pulls open
the gym. door and gives the word, we
went through neck and neck.
"Look out!" he yells, and I sees him
makin' a grab at the arm of a broad
beamed old party, all done up nicely in
gray silk snd white lace.
And say. it's lucky I got a good mem'ry
for profiles; for If I hadn't seen right
away It was Purdy Bligh's Aunt Isabella,
and that the gun was nothln' but 'her
silver heartu' tube, we might have been
tryln' to explain it to her yet. As it Is.
I'm Just near enough to make a swipe
for Swlfty's right hand with my left, and
I Jerks his paw back Just as she turns
around from lookin' out of the window
and gets her lamps on us. Say. we must
have looked like a pair of batty ones,
stsndln there holdin' hands and starin
at her! But it seems that folks as deaf
as she Is alnt easy surprised. All she
does Is feel around for her gold eye
glasses with one hand and (It the silver
hearhv machine to her off ear with the
other. It's one of these pepper box af
fairs, and I didn't much wonder that
Swifty took it for a gun.
"Are you Professor McCabe?" says she.
"Sure!" I hollers; and Swifty. not
lookin" for such strenuous conversation,
goes up In the air about two feet.
"I beg pardonl" says the old girl; "hut
will you kindly speak Into the audiphone."
So I steps up closer, forgettln" that I
still has the clutch on Swifty, and drags
him along.
"Ahr, chee!" says Swifty. "This ain't
no brother act. Is it?"
With that I lets him go. and me and
Aunt Isabella gets down to business. I
was lookin' wor some tale about Purdy
you know, the one that had the half
brother wa shunted back to Bombazoula?
But It looks like this was a new deal; for
she opens up by ask in' If I knew a party
by the name of Dennis Whaloy.
"Do I?" says IT "I've known Dennis
ever since I can remember knowln' any
body. He's runnln" my place out to
Primrose Park now.
"I thought so." says Aunt Isabella.
"Then perhaps you know a niece of his.
Margaret Whaloy?"
I didn't: but I'd heard of her. She's
Terence Whaley's girl, that come over
from Sklhbereen four or five years back,
after near starvln to death one wet sea
son when the potato crop was so bad.
Well. It seems Maggie has worked a
couple of years for Aunt Isabella as
kitchen girl. Then she's got ambitious,
quit service, and got a flatwork Job in a
hand laundry eight per, 1 hours, a day.
Saturday 16 hours.
I didn't tumble why all this was worth
clilnnln about until Aunt Isabella re
minds me that she's president and board
of directors of the I.ady Tot Wrestlers
Improvement Society. She's one of the
kind that spends her time tryin' to or
ganise study classes for hired girls who
have different plans for spendln" thelt
Thursday afternoons off.
Sfeems that Aunt Isabella has been
keepln special tabs on Maggie, callln' at
the laundry to give her good advice, and
leavin' her books to read. which I got a
tintype of her readin', not. and otherwise
doln' the tipliftln' act accordln' to rule.
But along In the early Summer Maggie
had quit the laundry without consultln'
the old girl about It. Aunt Isabella kept
on the trail, though, run down her last
board in place, and begun writin her
what she called hlpfut U tters. She kept
this up until she was Handed the un
grateful Jolt. The last letter come back
to her witn a few remarks scribbled
acrcss the face, lndlcatln that readin'
such stuff gave Maggie a pain in the
small of her back. But the worst of it
all was. accordln" to Aunt Isabella, that
Maggie was In Coney Island.
"Think of it!" says she. "That poor. In
nocent girl, living in that dreadfully
wicked place! Isn't it terrible,?"
"Oh. I don't know." says L "It all
depends."
"'Hcyr says the old girl. "What say?"
Kvrr try to carry on a debate through
a silver salt shaker? It's the limit.
Tl'lnkin' It would be a lot easier to
agree with her. I shouts out, "Sure
thing!" and nods my head. She nods
back and rolls her eyes.
"She must be rescued at once!" says
Aunt Isabella.. "Her uncle ought to be
not I lied. Can't you send for him?"
As it happens, Dennis had come down
that mornin' to see an old friend of his
that was due to croak; so I figures it
!.
l-Vf
THE RESCUE EXPEDITION
out that the best way 'would be to get
him and tlie old lady together and let "em
have it out. I chases Swifty down to
West Eleventh street .to bring Dennis
back In a hurry, ajid invites Aunt Isabella
to make herself comfortable until he
comes.
She's too excited to alt down, though.
She goes pacin" around the front office,
now and then lookin' me over suspicious,
bein" still In my gym. suit. and then
slxln up the sportln' pictures on the wall.
My art exhibit is mostly made up of
signed photos of Jeff and Fltz and Nelson
In their ring costumes, and it was easy
to see slie's some Jarred.
"I hope this Is a perfectly respectable
place, young man," says she.
"It ain't often pulled by the oops,"
says I.
Instead of calmln' her down, that seems
to stir her up worse 'n ever. "I should
hope not!" says 'she. "'How long must I
wait here?"
"No longer'n you feel like waltln". ma'
am." says I.
And Just then the gym. door opens, and
in walks the bishop that I d clean forgot
all about.
"Why, bishop!" squeals Aunt Isabella.
"Tou here!'
Say, it didn't need any second sight to
see that the bishop would have rather
met most anybody else at that particular
minute; but he hands her the neat return.
"It appears that I am," says he. "And
you?"
Well, it was up to her to do the ex
plainin. She gives him the whole history
of Maggie Whaley, wlndln' up with how
she's been last heard from at Coney
Island.
"Isn't it dreadful, bishop?" says she.
"And can't you do something to help
rescue her?"
Now I was lookin for the bishop to say
somethin" soothin'; but hanged if he don't
chime in and admit that It's a sad case
and he'll do what he can to help.
About then Swifty shows up with Den
nis, and Aunt Isabella lays it before him.
Now. accordin" to his own account, Den
nis and Terence always had It In for each.
other at home, and he never took much
stock In Maggie either. But after he'd
listened to Aunt Isabella for a few
minutes,, bearln her talk about his duty
to the girl, and how she ought to be
yanked off the toboggin of sin, he takes
It as serious as any of 'cm.
"Wurraii. wurrah!" says he. "hut this
do be a black day for the Whalcys! It's
the MeOuigan blood comin' out In her.
What's to be done, mum?"
AunL Isabella has a programme all
mapped out. Her Idea is to get up a
rescue expedition on the spot and start
for Coney. Slie says Dennis ought to go,
for he's Maggie's uncle and has got
some authority; and she wants the bishop
to do any prayln over her that may be
needed.
"As for me." says she. "I shall do my
best to persuade her to leave her wicked
companions."
Well, they was. all agreed, and ready to
start, when It conies out that not one of
the three has ever been to the Island In
their lives, and don't know how to get
there. At that I sees the Bishop lookin"
expectant at me.
"Shorty," says he, "I presume you are
somewhat familiar with this er wicked
resort."
"Not the one you're talkin about." says
I. "I've been goln to Coney every year
since I was old enough to toddle, and
I'll admit there has been seasons when
some parts of it was kind of tough; but
as a general proposition it never looked
wicked to me."'
That kind of puxzles the bishop. He
says he's always understood that the isl
and was sort of a vent hole for the big
sulphur works. Aunt Isabella is dead
sure of it. too. and hints that maybe I
ain't much of a Judge. Anyway, she
thinks I'd be good guide for a place of
that kind, and prods the bishop on to
urge me to go.
"Well." says I. "Just for a flier. 1
will."
So, as soon as I've changed my clothes,
we starts for the iron steamboats, and
plants ourselves on the upper deck. And,
say. we was a sporty lookin" bunch I
don't guess. There was the bishop. In
his little flat hat and white choker
you couldn't mistake what lie was and
Aunt Isabella, with her gray hair and
her gTay and white costume, lookin"
about as giddy as a marble angel on a
tombstone. Then there's Dennis, who has
,1. V
",
.Jo
1 4 . V
Or
VVCk
GOES OUT OF BUSINESS WITH A
put on the black whipcord Prince Al
bert he always wears when hes visitln'
sick friends or attendin" funerals. The
only festlve-lookin' point about him was
the russet-colored throat hedge he wears
in place of a necktie.
Honest, I felt sorry for them suds
slingers that travels round the deck
singin' out, "Who wants the waiter?"
Mi
rite
mm
:,.tJ' ...... Vt: J- - .Jr-
f !f 4'-tfft'V
I HAS THE CLUTCH ON SWIFTY
Every time one would come our way he'd
get as f-ir as "Who wants " and then
he'd switch off with an "Ah, chee:" and
go away disgusted.
All the way down the old girl has her
eye out -for wickedness. The sight of
Adolph. the grocery clerk, dippin' his
beak Into a mug of froth moves her to
sit up and give him the stony glare;
v f. i; 1 r
v.
iv
THE BARKERS
while a glimpse of a young couple snug
glln' up against each other along the rail
almost gives her a spasm.
"Such braxen depravity!"' says she to
the bishop.
By the time we lands at the iron pier
she has knocked Coney so much that I
has worked up a. first-class grouch.
"tVme on:'' rays !. "Ijet's have Mag
gie's address and get through with this
"it.
A ... m:n I fFi!
t it n
'mrnmm
viln: 'j'it'wV -iiilk
TRY
rescue business before all you good folks
is soggy with sin."
Then it turns out she ain't got any
address at all. The most she knows Is
that MaRgie's somewhere on the island.
"Well." I shouts into the tube, "Coney's
something of a place, you see! What's
your idea of findin' her? .
- -e
4
4,
I lib
c
nfP? 'tsT
r
LOW, HOLLO WPLUNK.
"We must search," says Aunt Isabella,
prompt and decided.
"Mean to throw out a regular drag
net?" says I.
She does. Well, say, if you've ever
been to Coney on a good day, when there
was from 60 to 100,000 folks clrculatln"
about, you've got some notion of. what
a proposition of that kind means. Course,
AND DRAGS HIM ALONG.
I wan't goln' to tackle the Job with any
hope of gettin" away with It; but right
there I'm struck with a pteasin' thought.
"Do I gather that I'm to be the Com
mander Peary of this expedition?" says L
It was a unanimous vote that I was.
"Well." says I, "you know you can't
carry It through on hot air. It takes coin
to get past the gates In this place."
it "'' Ail ' (' r ''f ?f'
;ll Hp Hi
i. ;:, &S0&. Vr . -:!-r:-:-..--
tjr -
mm
TAKES ONE LOOK AT US
AND LOSES
Aunt Isabella says she's prepared to
stand all the expense. And what do you
suppose she passes out? A green five!
"Ah, say. this ain't any Sunday school
excursion," says L "Why, that wouldn't
last us a block. Guess you'll have to dig
deeper or call It off."
She was game, though. She brings up
a couple of tens next dip, the bishop adds
two more, and I heaves In one on my
own hook.
"Now understand," says I. "if I'm
headin' this procession there mustn't be
any hangin' back or arguln' about the
course. Coney's no place for a quitter,
and there's some queer corners in it;
but we're lookin" for a particular party,
so we can't skip any. Follow close, don't
ask me fool questions, and e-erybody
keep their eye skinned for Maggie. Is
that clear?"
They said it was.
"Then we're off in a bunch. This way!"
sayu I.
Say. It was almost too good to be true.
I hadn't niore'n got "em inside of Dream
land before they has their mouths open
and their eyes, popped, and they was so
rattled they didn't know whether they
was goln" up or comin" down. The bishop
grabs me by the elbow. Aunt Isabella
gets a desperate grip on his coat tails,
and Dennis hooks two fingers into the
back of her belt. When we lines up
like that we has the fat woman takin"
her first camel ride pushed behind the
screen. The barkers out In front of the
dime attractions takes one look at us
and loses their voices for e whole minute
and It takes a good deal to choke up
one of them human cyclones. I gives
'em back the merry grin and blazes
ahead.
First thing I sees that looks good Is
the wiggle-waggle brass staircase, where
half of the steps goes up as the other
comes down.
"Now. altogether!" says I. feedinj the
coupons to the ticket man, and I runs
em up against the liver restorer at top
speed. Say. that exhibition must have
done the rubbernecks good! First we
was all Jolted up in a heap, then we was
strung out like a yard of frankfurters;
but I kept "em at it until we gets to the
top. Aunt Isabella, has lost her breath
and her bonnet has slid over one ear. the
bishop Is red In the face, and Dennis Is
puffin' like a freight engine.
"No Maggie here," says I. "We'll try
somewhere else."
No. 2 on the event card was the water
chutes, and while we was slidin up on
the escalator they has a chance to catch
their wind. They didn't get any more'n
they needed tho.ugh; for Just as Aunt
Isabella has started to ask the platform
man if he"d seen anything of Maggie
Whaley, a boat comes up on the cogs,
and I yells for 'em to Jump in quick.
The next thing they knew we was scoot"
In" down that slide at the rate of 100
miles an hour, with three of us holdin'
onto our hats, and one lettin" out 40
squeals to the minute.
"O-o-o o-o-o!" says Aunt Isabella, as
we hits the water and does the bounding
bounce.
"That's right," says I: "let 'em know
you're here. It's the style."
Before they've recovered from the
chute ride I've hustled 'em over to one
of them scenic railroads, where you're
yanked up feet first 100 feet or so, and
then shot down through painted canvas
mountains for about a mile. Say. it
was a hummer, too! I don't know what
there is about travelin' fast; but it
always warms up my blood, and about
the third trip I feels like sendin' out
yelps of Joy.
Course, I didn't expect It would have
any such effect on the bishop; but as
we went Blammln" around a ' sharp cor
ner I gets a look at his face. And would
you believe it, he's wearln' a reg'lar
breakfast food grin! Next plunge" we
takes I hears a whoop from the back
seat, and I knows that Dennis has
caught it too. v 1
I was afraid maybe the old girl has
fainted; but when we brings up at the
bottom' and I has a chance to turn
around, I finds her still grippin' the car
seat, her feet planted firm, and a kind of
wild, recklass look in her eyes.
"We did that last lap a little rapid,"
say's I. "Maybe we ought to cover the
ground again,. Just to be sure we didn't
miss Maggie. How about repeatin", eh?"
"II wouldn't mind," says she.
"Good!" says I. "Percy, send her off
for another spiel."
And we encores the performance, with
Dennis glvin' the Donnybrook call, and
the smile on the bishop's face growin'
wider and wider. Fun? I've done them
same stunts with a gang of real sport
ing men, and never had the half of It.
After that my crowd was ready for
anything. They . forgets all about the
original proposition, and tackles anything
I leads them up to, from bumpin the
bumps to ridin' down in the tubs on the
THEIR VOICES.
tickler. When we'd got through with
Dreamland and the Steeplechase, we
wanders down the Bowery and .hits up
some hot dog and green corn rations.
By the time I gets ready to lead them
across Surf-ave. to Luna Park it was
dark, and about a million incandescents
had been turned on. Well, you know
the kind of picture they gets their first
peep at. Course, it's nothin' but white
toe,
CABE'
stucco and gold leaf and electric light,
with the blue sky beyond. But say, first
glimpse you get, don't It knock your eye
out?
"Whist:" says Dennis, gawpin' up at
the front like he meant to swallow it. "Is
ut the Blessed Gates we're comin" to?"
i.
I
By the Time We're Down They're Ready
for the Repeat.
"Magnificent!" says the Bishop.
And Just then Aunt Isabella gives a
gasp and sings out, "Masgie!"
Well, as Dennis says afterwards. In
tellin' Mother Whaley about it, "Glory
be. Would yez think ut? I hears her
spake thot name, and up I looks, and as
I'm a breathin' man there sits Maggie
Whaley in a solid goold chariot all stuck
with Jools, her hair puffed out like a
crown, and the very neck of her blazin'
with pearls and di'monds. Maggie Whaley,
mind ye, the own daughter of Terence,
that's me brother; and her the boss of a
place as big as the houses of Parli'ment
ill
A' .
!. -J. .
Fighters' Fads and Fancies
HAT are the fads of pugi
lists?" This question was put
to a veteran follower of the
ring at a local sporting resort recently
with the result that he let loose a lot
of Interesting talk, says the New York
Sun. Ha began with Bir Jim Jeffries
and went right through the whole bunch.
He said:
"Jeffries, for example, would rather
.talk dog" than any other subject. With
a few of his cronlea he will sit up hours
and discuss the fine points and merits
of the dog family. He owns a number
of fine dogs on his farm near Los An
geles. He likes game fighting dogs the
best and enjoys reciting many wonder
ful tales relating to his adventures with
his pets while hunting wild game and
animals. The big fellow would rather
follow the trail of a bear or a mountain
lion with his favorite dogs than attend
the grandest feast in the world. Jeff
does not care about matching his dogs
to fight in the pit but he expects them
to make good in the forest against wild
animals. Most of his dogs are of the bull
terrier breed, and he says they cannot
be excelled.
"Then Jim Corbett's fad is acting be
fore the footlights. He is really stuck
on the theatrical profession and devotes
all of his spare time to trying- to im
prove in the art. Corbett thinks the
day is not far distant when he'll be
hailed as a leading; man. Jim Corbett
says that no writer of plays has yet
been able to produce a play that would
enable him to show theater-goers Just
how clever he really Is. You couldn't
get Jim back in the ring with a team
of horses, because he thinks that such
a move would lessen his prospects be
fore the limelight. If Corbett has any
other hobby it is baseball. He is a
pretty fair player himself, and he en
Joys rooting, too.
"Joe Gans. the ex-Hphtwelght cham
pion, is a born gambler. He has lost
probably $100,000 on games of chance,
and that's going some. He loves to
shoot craps for high stakes and also
puts down good stiff bets on the horses.
Uans is also very fond of game chick
ens, and has quite a few choice birds
at his Baltimore home. In fact, he has
fought his strain of birds in some big
mains for many thousands of dollars.
If Gans hadn't been such a redhot sport
he could-have retired with a comfort
able fortune.
"Old Jem Mace, the oldest ex-cham-plon
alive today he is 78 and is well
preserved is quite a musician, and
can play the violin with the skill of a
professor. Mace", who has gypsy blood
in his veins, followed the county fairs
in England while a boy and without
any lessons he got acquainted with the
mvsteries of the fiddle. Just at present
he is showing in the music halls on the
other side and plays the violin as part
of his vaudeville act.
"Tommv Burns' fad Is money and
clothes. He has the financial bee in
his bonnet for fair. He has made a
close study of investments and bank
ing systems. He handles his money
like an experienced financier, specu
lating in stocks with some success.
Clothes! You ought to see him all
togged out in the finest suits made by
the swellest tailors. When he was in
England he cut such a stylish figure
over there that the ordinary pugs
looked upon him as a millionaire.
"John L. Sullivan's net fancy is tell
ing comic or alleged "comic stories. He
considers himself one of the best re
citers of humorous incidents in the
world, and there's usually trouble for
the man who does not laugh good and
plenty at the proper time. Sullivan
has a wonderful memory, and having
been all over the world he has picked
up a fine collection of yarns. Besides
story-telling, Sullivan enjoys discuss
ing any or all of the leading topics in
his own convincing way. A few years
ago John wanted to be sent to Con
gress from his home district in Bos
ton, but Just at that time John Barley
corn stepped in and monopolized all of
Sullivan's spare time, so that his grand
scheme fell through. It was Sullivan's
plan to fight the Republicans to a ifn
ish on the floor of the House, without
gloves. 'Til show these silk stocking
guys in Washington something about
tariff reform that'll knock 'em dead.'
oil.- itllivan at the time as he pounded
1 a Broadway cafe bar until a hundred
and finer than Windsor Castle on th
King's birthday!"
It was Maggie all right. She was sittln'
in a chariot, too you've seen them fancy
ticket booths they has down to Luna. And
6he has had her hair done up by an up
holsterer, and put through a crimpin ma
ohine. That and the Brazilian near-gem
necklace she wears does give her a kind
of a rich and fancy look, providin' you
don't get too close.
She wasn't exactly bossln' the show.
She was sellln' combination tickets, that
let you in on so many rackets for a dol
lar. She'd chucked the laundry Job for
this, and she was lookin' like she was
glad she'd made the shift. But here was
four of us who'd come to rescue her and
lead her back to the ironin board.
Aunt Isabella makes the first break.
She tells Maggie who she Is and why
she's come. "Margaret," says she, "I do
hope you will consent to leave this wicked
life. Please say you wiH. Margaret!"
"Ah. turn it off!" says Maggie. Me back
to the sweat box at eight per when I'm
gettin' fourteen for this? Not on your
pingpongs! Fade, Aunty, fade!"
Then the Bishop Is pushed up to take
his turn. He says he is glad to meet
Maggie, and hopes she likes her new job.
Maggie says she does. She lets out too
that she's engaged to the gentleman what
does a refined acrobatic specialty in the
third attraction on the left, and that
when they close in the Fall he's goln to
coach her up so's they can do a double
turn in the continuous houses next Win
ter, at from sixty to seventy-five per.
each. So if she ever irons another shirt,
it'll be Just to show that she ain't proud.
And that's where the rescue expedi
tion goes out of business with a low, hol
low plunk. Among the three of 'em not
one has a word left to say.
"Well, folks," says I, "what are we
here for? Shall we finish the evenin' like
we begun? We're only alive once, you
know, and this is the only Coney there
is. How about it?"
Did we? Inside of two minutes Maggie
has sold us four entrance tickets, and
we're headed for the biggest and woozlest
thriller to be found in the lot.
"Shorty," says the Bishop, as we set
tles ourselves for a ride home on the last
boat, "I trust I have done nothing un
seemly this evening."
"What! You?" says T. "Why. Bishop,
you're a reg'lar ripe old sport; and any
time you feel like cutttn" loose again,
with Aunt Isabella or without. Just send
In a call for me."
(Copyright, 1908, Associated Sunday Mag
azine.) glasses were smashed into a million
pieces. John had some great ideas that
might be for the good of the country,
but the booze Boon drove them out of
his head and the Nation lost a remark
able statesman. Sullivan, however,
has been on the -water cart for three
years now, and still wants to go to
Congress. " i
"Joe W'alcott, the once great Giant
Killer, Is a pianist. You'd hardly be
lieve that, but it's a fact. He owns a
house over in Boston, and when he gets
busy with ragtime music the neighbor
hood is up in arms. But you can bet
that nobody goes to Joe's door and
makes a kick, "cause they all know
what the Barbadoes man has done in
the prizering. One of his neighbors
says that Joe can make more real noise
on a piano than a dozen men in a boiler
shop.
"Bob Fitzslmmons' fads are-cooking
and the taming of wild animals. Just
now he doesn't know whether he'll join
a circus as a lion-tamer or apply for the
position of chef at one of the big hotels
in town. Fitz does all the catering and
cooking at his Jersey farm. Robert
says, too, that be can cook anything
from soup to nuts. When he was ac
tively engaged in the ring Fitz never
trained for a mill without having some
wild animal as his pet. He has been
bitten and torn by the untamed beasts
but this has. never discouraged him atA
all for Bob thinks he has some hypno
tic" power over them.
"Terry McGovern outsldo of the ring
considers himself a great baseball
player. He went South with the Giants
them. He is always in uniform at the
Polo grounds and thinks he will get a
chance to play second base some of
these days for one of the big league
teams.
"Jack McAuliffe Is a crank on carJ
playing. He will sit in a game of hearts
at sundown and keep it up until sun
rise, night after night. Invariably quit
ting a loser. As a matter of fact Jack
is a very poor card player, but he likes
the game so much that it has cost him
thousands of good dollars. It's his
hobby. By the way, lt's-a very strange
fact that few of the noted fighters of
the present day are successful gamblers,
especially with cards or at playing the
bank. John L. Sullivan never gambled
to any extent, nor did Jeffries, Corbett,
Sharkey, Fitzsimmons, Ruhlin, Burns,
Britt or ilaher. The greatest of the
gambling fighters- is Johnny Van Tteest,
who fought around here ten years ago.
He could not keep away from the green
cloth and at present is dealing bank in
a far Western town.
"Kid McCoy has all kinds of fads and
fancies. He's a promoter of various
schemes. Just now he is Interested in
a detective agency, real estate specu
lations, automobiles and racehorses. "Be
sides "he's trying to butt into society.
He's a swell dresser and a.s he strolls
along the Great Whito Way nobody
would dare to believe that this Immacu
late fellow was an ex-prizefighter.
"Sailor Tom Sharkey is fond of trot
ting horses. He has a stock farm over
In Jersey and is something of a breeder.
He can be seen on the speedway almost
any afternoon behind a fast horse. Shar
key is a' wise fellow in regard to money
matters and knows how to hang on to-,
his dollars. The roadhouse keepers make
no effort to get Tom's trade, as he rare
ly drinks and is not a spender.
"Mutty Matthews, whose head is all
banged up from hard fights, is an ex
pert swimmer and high diver and is also
a good horseman. He has been engaged
at the Hippodrome and at Luna Park
In the tank dramas for several years.
I guess that's about all I know about
fighters' fads, but it. ought to hold you
fellows for a while at least."
Hopelessly Old-Fasbloned.
New York WorM:
Onlv Jtit plain, homely f.tlkw.
Working on from day to day.
Doing any Rood can r
In an unobtrusive way.
Fas-hionable? Not a bit!
Never sued for unra!d blli;
Nevpr have affinities;
Kop nu motor tar that kiliR.
Don't g;t famous tlironcli divon-';
Break no markets, lakft no liv.
Juft kep toilinff. hunlrum. dirll
For our chilUj-en and our wives.