The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 19, 1900, Page 2

Beating a Beat. “I wish I could get ahedfi of all dead- beats as easily as 1 did the first ome,” said the hotel clerk with a sigh, as he examined the wvalise and found -three bricks and & pair of old socks. “The first sijuation 1 ever held down was at a hotel in & little town west of here, One day a flask@y dressed party put up at the hotel and (Wered the best that we had. He made guite an impression upon me, as it was met usual for our guests to throw their money about recklessly. He was with us for several days and managed to run up quite a bill, and I never dreamed of asking him for it. “I went to a dance one night and didn’t get back until about 3 in the morning. As ! I approached the hotel I became aware that something was wrong. A rope was hanging out of the window of the room ithat our high-flving guest occupied, and la moment later I saw him appear at the | window and start to slide down the rope. | I realized the situation then and prepared ;for action. 1 saw that he would come squarely down upon a cistern, so I guietly removed thé cover and awaited develop- ments. His legs were in the cistern be- fore he realized where he was going, and then he made a desperate attempt to climb out. But evidently he was tired out and his hands sere, for after swear- ing and struggling for a few minutes he gave up and slid down into the cistern. There was not enough water in it to drown him; so, after leaving him in soak for awhile, I pulled him out. ‘““He had his nerve with him even then. “ ‘Funny habit, this walking in one’s e e e e e s e AT FRANTIC CITY. “IWhat made Augustus leave so unex- pectedly ?” sleep, isn't it?’ said he, with chattering “His tailor came down to stay over till ’ tee;g‘ ' ; Monday.” | : “ It is,” T answered. ‘I sometimes walk in my slecp myself.” ] * “Then you can sympathize with me,’ said he. “ ‘1 can,” T answered, grimly. “Funny, too, what strange things one “Oh, no. Sometimes she is talking to | Will do while ,’ said he. : another woman.''—Life. “ ‘Very, said I, dryly. ‘Now, I am al- O T AT AT AT AT AR T A AT A TR D SR SR TR T A TR T O THATH T AT AT A TR AT @ IT DOES HAPPEN. “A woman deesn’'t always have the last word, does she?”’ SHE EKNEW. “Didn’t Mrs. Jones’ husband die only last week?” “Yes.” “] saw her yesterday, and she was wearirg second mourning. “I know—he was her second husband.” O T H AR T A T RSk A O AT A TR O R SR SR T AT ENGLISH HUMOR. With much enthusiasm the English hu- morist takes his pen in hand. The first advertisement in the paper before him reads as follows: “For sale, a piano with wooden lcgs; in an oak case, by a lady about to cross ways in a fighting mood when I am walk- ing in my sleep, and 1 always lick the first man I run across. I'm walking in | my sleep right now, and you are the first man that 1 have met.’ “With that I sailed into him and gave him a drubbing that I'll wager he didn’'t forget for some time. Then 1 told him to get, and he got.”—Detroit Free Press. AN AGNOSTIC IN DRINK, While her husband *was hanging his shoes on the hatrack the woman wrung her hands. 3 “Will you never know when you have had enough!” she exclaimed, reproach- fully. “I am a consistent agnostic, I hope!” replied the man, with a certain dignity and in the correct inebriate dialect.—De- troit Journal. WITE DIALECT PO'TRY. “I's done took a heap o’ trouble ter sen’ dat gal ter school,” said Miss Miami Brown’s father. ‘“Is she gettin’ educated?” “I should say so. You jes’ orter hear her recitin’ ‘Unduh de Spreadin’ Chestnut Tree,”” an’ ‘Tell Me Not in Mo’'nful Num- bers,” an’ some er de res’ o' dat wite dia- lect po’try.”—Washington Star, news- makes it read thus: “For sale, a piano, by a Ilady with wooden legs, about to eross the ocean in an oak ease."” ‘““Ha, ha!” he laughs, heartily, and rests until dinmer.—Detroit Journal. ACCURACY DEMANDED. “Bigsby went up to see the Thousand Islands on a special rate excursion ticket.” “How did he enjoy the trip?” “He came back threatening to sue the railroad company.” “What for?” “He couldn’t count but 993 islands!”— Cleveland Plain Dealer. EASY ENOUGH. “T wonder how so practical a people as the Scotch happened to originate golf.” “Oh, that was easy for them; they al- the ocean.” l With a few deft strokes, the hbmoflst\ ready had the plaids.”—Chicago Reo;:ord.l \ e e e —————eese ettt B —————— . ——— N S ——— THE SUNDAY CALL. ON THE RIALTO. Scubrette—*"So »our seasom closed very abruptly. the ghost walk?” What was the trouble? Didm't Tragedian—"1 guess so. The rest of us did.” P T AT AT AT A TA TSR T R TSR TR S ok ok O A SR @ THE DRUMMER'S HOME. Stranger (in train)—A man in your busi- ness can't get home very often, I pre- sume? Drummer—Home! 1 should say not. Why, sir, I get home so seldom that 1 can’t remember half the time where I live. Have to telegraph to the firm to send me my address! Stranger—You don’t say so! Drummer—That's straight. Why, one time I was away so long that I forgot 1'd ever been married, and I took such =a fancy to a pretty woman I met in a strange town that I eloped with her. Stranger—My! my! Drummer—Yes; it would have been a terrible thing, but when I called on the firm during my honeymoon and intreduced her the old man told me she was my wife before. TOO GQOD FOR MATINEES. “How will you have your eggs fried, on one side or both?”’ asked the waitress of the youth who spends all his spare money for vaudeville tickets. “Fry one on one side and the other on the other,” answered the youth, with a real Seabrookish expression.—Baltimore American. A TOSS UP. “Can you swim?’ asked the boy who was managing the sailboat as a squall struck the craft and nearly capsized it. “Not a stroke,” said the passenger. “Well, I guess we're about even, then. 1 don’t know a thing about sailing a boat in a storm.”’—Chicago Tribune. BEN'S BRIGHT IDEA. “Children,” said the mother of the fam- ily, opening the door of the nursery and looking in, “what are you doing to Puggy that makes him yelp so?” “Ben’s been using the curling tongs on his tail to make it curl tighter,” explained Eunice.—Philadelphia Inquirer. The e ————————— e——————————————— HE GOT POSTED. It was on an open car. A man of years and sedateness sat next to a young man who was consulting a pocket dictionary. By and by, and without any premonitory symptoms, the sedate man said: “It's in there. I was locking over one of them books yesterday, and 1 picked cout the very words.™ ‘“What do you refer young man. “To what a woman up my way called me when I asked her to marry me.” “And what was it?” “A concave cataleptic semiannual old idiot. At first I didn't exactly know whether she meant to say yes or turn me down, but after looking in the dic- tionary I made up my mind that she was not for me. Mighty handy, these diection- aries are, when you get stuck on a hard word, eh?’'—Washington Post. A CAMP CHRISTENING. “Anybody 'round here who can tell good fish stories?” o to?" asked the “Loekin’ fer a liar, eh? Well, Parsin Raggs flls th' bill about as near as any man this side o' Annynias kin do it.” “A parwn'” “Yep. Thet's th’ name th’' camp give him fer usin’ sich dern bad grammar.”"— Cleveland Plairn-Dealer. ENJOYING THEMSELVES. Simpkins and his young wife had just compieted their first guarrel. “I wish I was dead,” she sobbed. “I wish I was, too,” he blubbered. “Then I don't wish I was,” and the war comtimued.—St. Louis Globe-Demoerat. VACATION MAY BE CUT SHORT. “fPour wife has gone away for the sum- mer, I understand?”’ “Well, she thinks she has, but if she could see my bank balance once possi- bly she would know better.”” —Chicago Post. DISSATISFIED. New Convict—*“This is a very poor room.” The Cheerful Convict—‘“Yes; a regular cell.”