The Sunday Oregonian., September 21, 1913, SECTION SIX, Page 7, Image 73

THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAX, PORTLAND, SEPTE3IBER 31, 1913.
7
1 ' '
Most of
Them Get
Married
and Quit
DO you know that pretty little
-waitress who brlnrs you "ham
and"? Have you ever spoken to
her or paused to wonder In exactly
what niche In the city's working; class
she fits?
She Isn't a servant, and she Is unor
ganized, and she hasn't as yet reached
the dignity of being: a part of the
labor problem.
When you see her hustling: about on
a warm day, hopping; from one custom
er to another, and giving weird exhi
bitions of the balancing; art, you are
Inclined to fee! sorry for her. Tour
human! tarianlsra goes on rampage
i again and you talk corporations and
Socialism.
Tou're really wasting: your breath.
The pretty little waitress gets along,
as a general rule, far better than do
the girls in the department stores, the
telephone operators and many stenog
raphers. It you think she is inclined
to lose caste by waiting on tables, that
is her business, and your fault. And
if you've got nerve enough to tell her
so, you'll obtain the classic retort of
"I should worry."
Majority Live at Home.
The great majority of the girls live
at home with their families, and so
do not have to support themselves.
Many have come from the country and
are living with relatives. All of them
have fair education; usually of the
public school sort. And most of them
although there are instances of girls
remaining with one firm for If years
and more lay the groundwork for
domesticity, and finally become good
wives and happy mothers.
Some of them are called "half-time"
girls: they work five hours a day, and
receive $5 a week, but they also re
ceive two meals a day, which means a
good deal. Then there are the eight
hour girls who receive $8 a week and
three meals dally. Disgracefully small
wiffs you say? Wait a minute.
Three hearty meals a day, ordered
by each one according to her individ
ual taste and needs, is a good deal
more than the ordinary working girl
ever enjoys. And then the tips amount
to a small fortune. In one of the res
taurants one of the girls said that it
was not at all rare for a waitress to
take in $30 a week in tips. Figure It
for yourself between 75 and 100 cus
tomers a day, and tips ranging from
S cents up.
Good Working Conditions.
Of course, in some of the isolated
restaurants, the compensations aren"
nearly as large, but since consolida
tion of restaurants has been the re
sult of the keen competition, condi
tions are reaching pretty much the
level already stated. Aside from the
question of salary, the working condi
tions are really excellent: even the
Government reports about it.
In the restaurants of one big firm
there is a large room In which each
wages and usually without tips, about
three-quarters of the total number of
waitresses work under conditions sim
ilar to those described. Seventy-five
per cent 1b a good average.
of the girls has her separate locker.
There are plenty of washstands and a
bathroom in which the girls can take
a "tub" if they wish. Considering that
they really do make considerable
money, that conditions are pleasant,
and that the rush hours are few and
far between, it isn't to be wondered at
that the supply of waitresses is as
great as It is.
"I have been working here for 11
years." said a head waitress of a big
restaurant, "and I've always liked the
work and found it paid very well. We
do better here than we would in de
partment stores. A young girl here
can make a lot of money, and it comes
in handy. She has her evenings free.
and seh can have all the fun she wants
then. As a rule most of the girls who
leave do so because they are going to
get married, and lots of the girls who
have left us have married very well.
"Of course, IS a week Isn't much, es
pecially when you have to support
yourself, and there are lots of widows
working Here who have to support
their children. But tney make much
more on tips. I've taken in $30 a
week in tips very often, and that is a
lot of money. I guess, though, that
10 would be a safe average."
Just then there was a crash of fall
ing and breaking dishes.
That's another thing. Not a girl in
any of our restaurants is charged a
penny for breakage. They are Just told
to be careful, and If they show that
they aren't, but Just keep on break
ing dishes, they are discharged. All
around that is perfectly fair. They
are not charged for their aprons eith
er, and so they have no expenses at
all. All they have to spend is money
for their clothes, and most of them
don't pay rent, because they live at
'home.' They get good, hearty meals
here for nothing."
"What chance of promotion have the
girls?" she was asked.
"Well." she replied, "they have the
chance of becoming head waitresses.
That's about as high as they can go.
But most of them are looking forward
to getting married, so they don't care
so much about being promoted."
The pretty little waitress punched
the chec': and laid it on tne table. She
hat. been working there for three
yervx, ever since she was IS. She had
not been a bit ciscontented either.
Fun to Walt om Tables.
"Oh, no," said she, "I couldn't have
made so much money anywhere else.
And then it's lots of fun waiting on
the tables, because you see so many
different people and hear so many
different things. I hardly ever get
very tired. And evorj body treats us
nicely, so we re not badly off at all.
What am I ,volng to do? Well.
don't tell cnyone, will you, but I'm
going to leave -s Boon as my fellow
gets a raise. And he's going to get
that next month. Sure! Then I'll
wait on h.-.n. Get tired of it? Say.
quitcner Kidding:'
"They don't have to work very hard,"
said the manager of a big eating place
where girlc are em-'oyed. "They get
good salaries, althoi"-n w discourage
the giving of tips, and they work in
clean and pleasant surroundings. Many
or tne gins nave been with us for
years, and if they didn't like It they
surely would not have remained. As a
matter of fact, we haven't got places
for the great number that apply for
Jobs.
"Most of the girls get married after
a while, though, and that is how we
lose them. But there are always others
ready to step in and I guess there
always will be."
All of the foregoing may sound op
timistic, but there is no use looking at
the reverse side of the shield too in
tently, especially since there is a re
verse side to everything. And though
in many or the restaurants the girls
ay worn many nours more lor smaller
Fox Farming
Road to Riches
(Continued From Page 3.)
This kind, of farming, however, is
attended with a good many difficul
ties, chief among which is the shyness
of the animals. They have to be kept
in pens far away from any human hab
itation, preferably amid dense woods,
and no man other than their keeper
can be permitted to go near them.
Even he, though he feeds them dally,
must take every precaution to aboid
frightening them, and it is desirable
that he shall not adopt any change
of costume that would strike them as
novel and therefore alarming.
It is because of their extreme shy
ness that foxes are never known to
produce young in zoological gardens.
The mother fox, even under such condi
tions of captivity as are here described,
will, if disturbed in any way, imperil
the lives of her offspring by carrying
them about in ner mouth picking them
up from one plce and putting them
down in another until they succumb to
exposure and too much handling. It
will be understood, then, why It is nec
essary to seclude the pens In unfre
quented wood", maintaining a contin
ual watch to prevent the approach of
possible intruders, man or wild beast.
The kennels used for housing the
animals on Prince Edward Island are
little houses, big enough to accommo
date four pairs of the foxes in as many
separate compartments each of the
latter consisting of two rooms. One
of the two rooms for a nest, and is
lined with dry and perfectly clean sea
weed. Exit into the open air is ob
tained through a sort of crooked spout
of wood, which serves to Imitate a bur
row. The house stands In the middle of an
enclosure 40 feet square, surrounded by
a fence 10 feet high, of two-inch wire
net. But outside of tnls pen, and en
closing an area of two or more acres.
is a second fence of the same kind, ex
tending to a depth of three feet in the
ground, to prevent the animals from
burr-owing under, and turned inward
at right angles at the top, in order that
they may not be able to climb over.
When the weather is propitious they
are liberated into this outer area, which
serves them as a playground.
This Information is furnished by two
experts in animal husbandry, J. Walter
Jones, of Washington, D. C, and Ben
I. Kaynor, the latter being a son of the
man on whose farm, on I'rince lid ward
Island, the first silver foxes were
caught and made captive for breeding
purposes, lit. Raynor, whose address
is Alberton, P. E. I., Canada, is himself
one of the pioneer breeders. He states
that he builds his fox kennels eight by
ten feet In floor dimension, with a
pitch roof, double-boarded and tar
papered. A passageway runs through
to admit the keeper to the' four com
partments, one of which is at each cor
ner. To feed the foxes costs very little
not more than 2 or 3 cents a day per
fox. Butchers' refuse, fish, bread,
milk and eggs serve excellently for the
purpose,. The nursing mother gets
plenty of eggs, milk and porridge. On
some of the fox ranches there are a
good many rabbits inside of the outer
pen, which give the animals exercise
and amusement in the chase, while af
fording an additional article of diet.
Twenty-four years ago, in 1SS8, a
farmer named Lamb, while hunting for
strayed cattle in the woods on Prince
Edward Island, came across two silver
fox pups, male and female, in a hollow
log. He carried them home with him
and swapped them with a neighbor for
a cow and a few dollars to boot. This
was the beginning of the industry
which has had so remarkable and prof
itable a development
For a long time, however, not much
success was had in efforts to rear the
animals In captivity. They obstinately
refused to breed. But evidently the
know-how was acquired through ex
perience, and the present method,
whereby they are kept in strict seclu
sion and under conditions approaching
as close as possible to those of nature,
was adopted. The secret was carefully
kept, and until recently was known
only to a very few persons on the Isl
and. Meanwhile, no live foxes were
sold, except a few of inferior quality,
which were sent to very distant points
in Canada.
Mr. Kaynor is authority for the state
ment that there are now 80 fox ranches!
on Prince toward Island, whlcn are
stocked with 200 fine dark sliver foxes,
300 silver grays and 400 very light sil
vers and crosses. The total estimated
value of their skins (if they were all
killed tomorrow) is $550,000. As breed
lng stock, however, they are worth over
$3,000,000.
The "dark silvers" are the very valu
able ones. These are absolutely black
except for scattered light hairs, which
are black at the base and tip, the silver
being near the outer end. The fur of
such animals is a marvel of richness
and beauty.
And yet, strange though it may seem,
the animal is exactly the same as the
common red fox, whose pelt is worth
not more than $5. Once in a long while
a SDeclmen is black, and then it is
called a "dark silver" fox. If such a fox
is bred through a series of generations
with ordinary red foxes, all of the orr
spring after a while will be black. This
has been proved by many experiments,
and thus it appears that a farmer of
small means, who could afford to buy
only one real silver fox, might, by the
adoption of proper methods, acquire a
tock of the precious animals in tne
course of a few years.
The Government Bureau of Animal
Industry believes that fox farming un
such a plan might be made very suc
cessful in northern regions or tne
United States for example, in Maine
and North Dakota. The foxes need a
cold climate to produce satisfactory
fur. It is at present engaged In pre
liminary experiments with this idea in
view. There is no question oi tne iaci
that the silver fox is the most valua
ble beast in the world today, and the
practicability of rearing it on an ex
tensive scale has already been proved
by the breeders of Prince Edward Isl
and. Once obtained, the black variety
always breeds "true to color. The
pups are born In March to early May.
One mother fox reared 18 In three
years, and $8000 was refused for her,
PROBING SLEEP MYSTERY
(CONTINUED FROM PAGE 5.)
Where Living Is Clieap.
Westminster Gazette, London.
"The cheapest place in the world is
Antloch, in Syria," says a returned
traveler. "Being on the Mediterranean,
the climate is Just right in :he colder
months. I once passed a Winter there,
and all it cost me was one pound
($4.87) a week, though I leased a fine
house and kept three servants. For
the house I paid 20 shillings a month
rent, while the servants were satisfied
with two shillings a week. Mutton
cost three-halfpence a pound. Eggs
were a penny a dozen and chickens
twopence halfpenny each. The finest
of fresh fruit and vegetables (In Feb
ruary, too!) were so cheap that they
were not sold In quantity. Tou got all
you wanted for so much per week. All
I required for my household cost me
only one shilling weekly. An American
resident of Antioch told me that he
and his family lived comfortably on
$175 a year."
London and Its Lumber.
London Chronicle.
London is the most conservative city
In Europe, if not in the world.- It loves
Its lumber. You may still see those
notices attached to lamp posts which
announce "Standing for Four HacRney
Carriages," or whatever the number
may be, though for ten years (In one
case, to my own knowledge, for 25) no
vehicles of any kind have stood there.
Perhaps it is as well that these relics
should remain: they are a tiny part
of our social history. They will prob
ably remain when we are flying to
dinner or the theater in omni-aeros. By
that time people won't know what
"hackney carriage" meant, and there
will be discussions in the "Notes and
Queries" of the period. For each gen
eration hands down to the next certain
nuts to crack.
ape sitting on his chest. A scientist
investigated and found that he was
in the first stages of consumption. A
case of cancer of the stomach was dis
covered in a woman who dreamed that
she had swallowed a mouse which was
trying to gnaw Its way out
Opposed to insomnia is narcolepsy.
Cases are comparatively common
where people fail asleep as if overcome
by a drug several times during the
day, though they have slept eight or
nine hours the night before and have
not undergone any especial fatigue.
Such cases are called paroxysmal nar
colepsy. In Berlin recently scientists
reported the case of a woman who
slept 40 days and 40 nights on a stretch
and then woke up. A short while pre
vious a London doctor reoorted the
case of a man who slept 17 days. Both
recovered, except for extreme weak
ness, for all food taken during the nar
colepsy was administered by injection.
Both cases are being watched for a re
currence. Almost nothing Is known of
the pathology of narcolepsy. Aretaeus,
a contemporary of Galen, wrote In the
second century in discussing over
sleeping, "Much sleep clouds the brain,
and disintegrates and stupefies the
faculties," and little more is known to
day. The disease is not often fatal o'f
itself, but it occurs frequently with
diabetes and extreme obesity, which
are fatal. Whether narcolepsy has any
thing to do with the causes or ac
celeration of development of these dis
eases or whether it is merely one of
the results. Investigators are trying
to determine.
A typical case of narcolepsy came
under the observation of Dr. A. N.
Blodgett The subject was 60 years old
and since the age of 22 had been sub
ject to sudden irresistible Inclinations
to sleep at any and all times of the
day. Sometimes the sleep resembled
natural slumber and the patient would
awake and be unaware of having been
asleep. At other times the Bleep was
very sound and on awakening the pa
tient would know she had been asleep.
For 40 years the attacks had gone on,
becoming more frequent in later years.
A curious fact was that the Inordinate
amount of sleep during the day, some
times aa many as 15 naps, made no
difference with the night sleep, which
was normal. Vhe general health and
brain of the patient were affected very
littlo.
Dr. Boris Sldls conducted a series of
experiments on sleep with very young
babies and published the result of hi
experiments in a book called "An Ex
perimental Study of Sleep." He tells
of putting a boy 12 days old to sleep
by simply holding his eyes shut with
one hand and his body quiet with the
other for half a minute. A girl two
days older he put to sleep in the same
manner, but, womanlike, she objected
and cried for one minute and three
quarters before succumbing to the
physical Bleeping "potion."
With children a little older, the doc
tor found this elmple method unavail
ing at times, and he added patting and
rocking as a last resort. In the course
of his experiments he found that
pressing lightly on the child's stom
ach and holding It still in a dark room
thew it into a hynotic state Instead of
sleep.
Many people have wooed slumber by
counting sheep Jumping over a wall.
This Is effective not so much on ac
count of the monotony as because it
takes the mind from everything else,
allows the muscles to relax, aftr
which the brain composed itself. A
period of blankness ensues. In which
the subject Is ready for sleep to come.
Other people have tried to make the
sheep Jump, but the sheep balked. Then
so much mental effort was wasted on
the scheme that muscles tightened and
sleep was further away than ever.
Between being awake and asleep Is
a middle state, called a twilight state,
in which the mind takes on much the
same attitude as it does under intox
ication. Unpleasant thoughts are ban
ished, grief and worry are dulled, and
the mind basks in Idylls of Imagination
or pleasant reminiscence. All these
thoughts are brought up with very lit
tle brain exertion, they become less
and less distinct, gaps In the vision oc
cur and finally the mind is quiescent
and sleep comes.
If counting sheep does not produce
this twilight state these other
thoughts will. Some scientists assert
that sleep Is only a matter of will
power, the shutting out of the unpleas
ant and the energy-taking thoughts
and letting the mind wander in any
field it .will without trying to change
the channel, much in the same manner
as we read an interesting story or fol
low a dream.
THE FUGITIVE A SW t Story
(CONTINUED FROM PAGE 4.)
Doublesome Cucumbers.
Judge.
A vaudeville contortionist was "lim
bering up" in his dressing-room, when
a laundryman, who happened to open
the door by mistake, stepped across the
threshold and stood spellbound watch
ing the performer, who was apparently
tied in a knot on top of his trunk.
Noticing the look of consternation on
the face of the unintentional intruder
and resolving to have some fun at his
expense, the contortionist assumed a
look of deepest agony and groaned
weakly:
"By gravy, that's the last time I'll
ever eat cucumbers for supper!"
bling. At the sight of a white tunic,
black face, and white helmet, his eyes
fairly bulged.
At the back door of the Rose of Devon
he was greeted by two others of the Nel
lie G.'s crew. All entered the half-lit in
terior and took seats at a beer-wet table.
The air was heavy with the smoke of
rank tobacco. At a neighboring table
sat other seafaring men. One of them
was thumping the board with a hairy
fist and talking boastfully In a husky,
Insolent voice. The smoky lamp hung
above him. He turned his head and
Nicholas beheld the bearded face o
Jake McMann.
Nicholas leaned back in his chair.
For a little while the room seemed to
s'pin around, and the voices of his
messmates sounded fur away. -When
he recovered himself sufficiently to
Join again in the conversation, he
found the boatswain's snarp eyes nxea
upon him.
'Be you feeliii' queer, Pat?" asked
that worthy.
Nicholas red something In the boat
swain's look which euggsted a course
of action. His mother wit, which had
helped him before, came again to his
aid.
"Yes, I feels queer," he replied.
What be I a-doin' here?"
"Come back aboard." urged his friend.
Nicholas leaned close to the boat
swain. He wanted to make sure that
his eyes were not tricking him.
'Who be that big chap?" he whis
pered, pointing a cautious thumb at
McMann.
'Jake McMann, o' the tops'l schoon
er Elk," repllea tne Doaiswain. one
sails for home tomorry."
On the way back to the Nellie G.
Nicholas worked his brain for all it
was worth. Upon arriving safely
aboard he staggered and fell to the
deck. It was well done. The skipper
happened to be near, in pajamas and
slippers, smoking a cigar. He and the
boatswain carried the lad art to tne
main hatch.
"Is he drunk " asked the skipper,
with danger in his eye.
"No, sir." replied the boatswain, "he
ain't drunk. I've been after thlnkin' all
along that the poor boy's head wasn't
quite ship-shape; an' tonight his brains
has begun to work. I reckon."
Presently Nicholas opened his eyes
and widened them with a fine air of
wonder.
"How d'ye feel, Tobln?" inquired the
skipper.
"My name be Nick Dever," replied
the seaman. .
"You're Pat Tobln. that's who you
are. my lad," retorted the skipper; "60
days out o' St. John's, aboard the Nel
lie G., an' don't let me catch you in
toxicated again, dy'e hear?"
The boatswain expostulated with the
captain, assuring him that the young
man had taken nothing to drink save
a mug of beer.
"I be Nicholas Dever o' Trader's
Bay," murmured the man on 'the hatch.
"I has had a queer dream, too, about
sailln' an' sailin' an' wlnchin' out a
cargo o' drums in Pernambuco."
The skipper looked at the boat
swain. "All the Devers o' Trader's Bay be
foxy, sure," said the boatswain, "Me
sister married a Dever."
"Remarkable!" exclaimed the skip
per. "I'me read something like It in
books. There was one chap a Dev
onshire man like myself who forgot
his name for a matter o' 10 years, and
didn't remember it till a mate hit him
over the head with a belayln'-ptn. I'll
tell Mr. Murphy to put it down in the
log!"
The story of Nicholas Dover's lapse
of memory and sudden recovery of It
is still told aboard Newfoundland ves
sels and in the harbors of Conception
Bay. Jake McMann has heard it and
has made no comments, but he suspects
something of the truth. However, it
would never do for that man of muscle,
the terror of a dozen forecastles, to
admit that Nick Dever once knocked
him over the edge of a rock Into six
inches of water.
Nicholas continues to sail the high
seas. He is a boatswain now. He
shouts chanties, and hauls on the end
of ropes with one hand. He tells many
yarns, but on the subject of his brief
mental derangement he is strangely
uncommunicative. His shipmates feel
that, quite naturally, It is a delicat
subject.
Gatun Lake.
Philadelphia Record.
When Gatun Lake is filled it will
contain 183,000,000,000 cubic feet of wa
ter. The present height of water In the
lake is 45 feet above sea level and this.
Is nearly 40 below the top of the spill
way of the great dam. It will be a
generous estimate to say that the lakC
is now about one-third full, and tha
the Chagres River will have to dis
charge 120,000,000,000 more cubic feet
of water into the big basin before the
contemplated level Is attained. The
rainy season at the Isthmus has Just
about set in, and, thus far, the rainfall
has been below normal. Dividing the
present foot-second flow of the Chagres.
Into the number of cubic feet required
to fill the lake, the conclusion is
reached that the 80-foot level will not
be attained in the basin until the end
of the year. Of course, no ship can
pass through until the water is of
navigable depth above the sills of the
upper locks.
I ' I ' rrr i rr XT
j. erse x aies rrom n
.umofous Jf ens
THE HIGH CASTE BOSTOSIAX.
Let no one doubt that noble blood
may run In the veins of the humblest
of us! She was a wiry, little 9-year-old
of the South End and he was her
tall, lachrymose nephew of 5, with long
curls that tumbled weakly over his
snouiaers. At last one day some one
could endure it no longer and boldly
asKea tne question:
n nj-, one aemanaea. "does not
Oscar have his hair cut? It might
maae n i m more maniy.
And then, even before Augusta
spoke, the questioner quailed under the
glance that was cast at her. It was
in a frigid voice, truly worthy of blue
blooded Boston, that Augusta tossed
out her answer:
"The Jaconburgs," she said. In the
manner of one who condescends wear
ily, "do not cut the hair until the sev
enth year!" Boston Journal.
opn window after It thrust forth his
nead and cried in heartbroken accents:
" 'Good heavens, I forgot my poor
violets:'" London Chronicle.
I.ONnoVS MISPLACED SYMPATHY.
A well-known lecturer, who has trav
eled all over the world, covering 400.000
miles, in order to gather facts about the
awaaening of woman, said recently In
New York:
"Woman is waking everywhere. The
militant suffragettes are doing much to
help the awakening in England. Ihey
who blame the militants are as unrea
sonable as Landor.
"The poet Landor. you know, had a
violent temper. He raged especially
when his meals went wrong.
"His luncheon went very wrong one
day in Florence, and Landor threw his
chef out of the dining-room window
into the garden.
"But the man's body had no sooner
vanished than Landor rushed to the
MR. BRYAX'S DOUBLE.
A story that is told by the Secretary
or Mate about one of his doubles re
lates to a certain head waiter of a Chi
cago hotel. Bryan had been stopping.
at the hotel and soon after he left a
delegation of college boys from a near.
by Institution came to visit him. The
head waiter, who happened to be com
ing off duty, was corralled in tho lobby
of the hotel and amid enthusiastic
cheers was compelled to make a speech.
e gave the college bov much kind
ly advice, told them to persevere, and
intimated that some day they might
rise to nis position.
The next day the co.'Iege students
"r looming ior the speaker with
clubs, for a morninar ninur had nnb-
lished this headline over an account of
tne speech:
"Students Get Advice From Head
W alter." Chicago Inter-Ocean.
AST IMITATIVE DAUGHTER.
French fashions were being discussed
at a tea in Denver. The new Idea of
American fashions for American women
was being praised. Rev. Alpheus C.
Kerr then said:
"It Is time that we removed our
women from the peril of French fash
Ions. I attended the opera last year
during the Easter holidays. Mv com
panion pointed out to me a young mat
ron blazing with diamonds, and said:
" 'That is old Gobsa Golde's daurhter.
the Countess. I knew her father when!
he went about with his pants held up
Dy one suspender.
"I regarded the beautiful young wo
man tnrough my glass. Her dress was
audacious. I said dryly:
" 'She must take after her father.
then. Her gown, I see. is held up by
one strap.' "Kansas City Star.
TWO DIFFERENT THINGS.
The two girls and these were not
any particular two girls, but any two
girls met on the street, kissed, made
faces, and started to chatter. And the
first girl said:
"I want to congratulate you, dear.'
And the second replied:
"Thank you. But what for?"
"I hear you are going to marry Dick
Henrooster."
"Who ever told you such a ridiculous
thing as that?"
"Why, your best friend, Daisy Btur
tium." "Listen, deary; I don't doubt your
honesty, but I can't believe that Daisy
ever said any such thing. She knows
everything about me, and we have
never had a quarrel, and she isn't a cat.
Be fair I'll leave It to you. Did she
ever tell you that I was going to marry
Dick?"
"She did."
"Would you mind repeating her very
words?"
"She told me distinctly. 'Grace Pansl-
bed is engaged to Dick Henrooster.' "
"Aha! That's how these stories get
started. I see. I am engaged to him,
and Daisy told the truth. But what
right have you to gather from that fact
that I am going to marry the little
fool? Gossip, that's what it is just
mean gossip! Can't a girl get engaged
to a fellow without having a bunch of
Busyooaies- running about telling that
she Is going to marry him?
"We girls have a rough row to hoe."
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Quips and Flings
Penley I've written a new novel.
Come up to my apartment and I'll show
you the proofs. Friend Proofs! Why,
old chap, I don't, doubt your word in
the least Boston Transcript
V
"What Is the charge?" asked the ser
geantess. "Carrying concealed weap
ons," replied Officeress Mayme Hogan,
"We found this cage of mice hidden
under his coat." New York Post
Here Is another definition of an ego
1st." "Let's have it" "An egoist Is a
man who never disappoints himself, no
matter how often he disappoints oth
ers Birmingham Age-Herald.
"Ah! I'm glad to get this sonnet!"
exclaimed the editor. "Has It any
merit?" asked his assistant. "Not at
all; but a stamp was Just what I need
ed. The poet sends two." Exchange.
m m m
"Yes," said the fugitive, "I under
stand. You have five kinds of law tha
apply to my case." "True," they told
him. "And we have ten ways of evad
ing them. "Good, said the fugitive.
Give me about seven of them at the
usual market price." Cleveland Plain
Dealer.
"Did the doctor tell you what you
had ?"
"No." He took what I had without
telling me." Life.
Saphedde It costs me $25,000 a year
to live.
Miss Caustique How foolishly some
people spend their money! Philadel
phia Record.
A heavy bunch of clouds passed
over Hogwallow yesterday bound for
a Sunday-school picnic in progress near
Rye Straw. Paducah Hogwallow M.en
tuckian.
Miss Laura Gaston Young, the belle
of Scanty Creek, dropt in on ye corre
spondent last Saturday and Iett UH a
mess of artichokes, a persimmon-red
'possum and enough red peppers and
"sweet 'taters" to "season" and "trim"
the varmint Call again. Wingless
Seraph! Squeedunk Bugle.
Johnson Look here, you've been in
there half an hour and never said
word. The Man in the Telephone
Booth I am speaking .with my wife,
sir. The London Sphere.
Fay The Widow Dashaway's hus
band didn't leave her much when he
died, did he? Ray No; but he left her
pretty often when he was alive. The
Club Fellow.
Miss Gush And were you ever out
after big game. Colonel? Colonel High
flier Yes, indeed. I have been "out"
after every big game I was ever In.
Town Topics;
"Rastus, what's an alibi?" "Dat's
provln' dat yoh was at a prayer meet-
in' whar yoh wasn t, in order to show
dat yoh wasn't at de crap game whar
yoh was." Life.
- m
Colored Person (in department store)
Ah want to look at a pahr ob silk
stockings fo' a lady. Saleswoman
(nonchalantly) What sizo and color?
Colored Person Lordy, gal! Is you
blind? Life.
"These magazines are so helpful."
What's the latest?" "Here in the home
hints they tell you how to make aj
lovely suffragette bomb out of an old
tomato "can." Louisville Courier-Jour
nal.
Among the Poets of the Daily Press
THE CAUSE OF IT ALL.
Speakers at the meeting of the Asso
ciation for the Advancement of Science
in Washington. D. C, advanced the
theory that the increased gold supply
makes the cost of living high.
In olden days I used to think
It would be bliss divine
If I could And a "lead," or sink
A shaft upon a mine;
But now I'm wiser, and I know
How wrong would be the feat;
"Twould bring the world a heap of woe
By boosting things to eat.
I used to envy Whiskered Mike
Who wandered far from home,
And made at last a lucky strike
Upon the sands of Nome;
But now I know that Mike was wrong
In prospecting for ore,
As food that once sold for a song .
He d made to soar and soar.
I don't know how it's figured' out, J
But wise men say to me
That finding gold makes prices stout
Tis plain as A B C;
A bas those Argonaut chaps, then,
And Jason of the Fleece,
Who started all these woes of men
In days of ancient Greece!
Denver Republican.
A HINT.
When her pa throws down the night's
paper
And comes In to wind the old clock;
When her ma covers up the canary
And begins all the doors to lock;
When her brother comes In from the
poolroom
And throws down his shoes on the
floor
Then it's time to make tracks for your
hat, kid.
And vanish posthaste through the
door.
You've held her small hand all the
evening
While you bullded your castles In
Kna In
Remember tomorrow is coming.
ji you re goou you may see ner again.
You may think this stunt's put on to
scare you
And to keep you from wooing your
But you'll find the sole purpose of ail
tins
la to keep you from wasting the gat.
Milwaukee News.
OF THE SPIRIT.
It is not the sunshine bright
Upon the burning sand;
It Is not the tempest's might
On the unresisting strand;
But It is an action tender
As' if a grace It would render
Removes the veil from our mortal sight.
And then we find that we stand
In the glory of heaven's splendor.
It Is not the music heard
Outrlnglng loud and clear.
It Is not tho spoken word
That we are so glad to hear:
But It Is that tone of feeling
Into our own hearts stealing
From hearts that by our grief art
stirred
To the trembling of a tear
Their tenderness revealing.
Isaac Bassett Choats.
9