The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 9, 1900, Page 2

His Opinion. Young Fiddleback—Are you going around to Miss Muffin's to-morrow night, Mrs. Von Blumer? Mrs. Von Blumer—She gives a chafing- iish party, doesn't she? Fiddleback-—-Yes. Mrs. Von Blumer—We may. Are you? Fiddleback (smiling)—Well, hardly. Mrs. Von Blumer-—-Why, I thought you were fond of .Miss Muffin. : ¥Fiddleback—1 am, But not of her chafing-dish parties. Mrs, Von Blumer—You mean—-— Fiddleback—1 mean the chafing-dish part. Mrs. Von Blumer—You don’t like that? ¥Fiddleback—Well, I can stand a good | deal, but the conpbetions Miss Muffin gets up in that instrument of torture are too muci for me. Mrs, Von Blumer—You are too hard on her, I am sure. Fiddleback—Hard on her, do you say! Well, I guess she is pretty hard on the rest of her victims. Mrs. Von Blumer—What particular dish of hers don’t you like? Fiddleback—Well, I can’t say that I am partial to any of them. I've tried them ali, and there isn’t much choice. Her lob- ster Newburgh cans produce about as much complex agony as anything else. But I think for suffering long drawn out, for steady, unintermittent, able-bodied pain, her Welsh rarebit takes the biue ribbon. Have you ever tried Miss Muf- fin’s Welsh rarebit? Mrs. Von Blumer—Oh, yes, indeed! Why, I have been giving her cooking les- sons for the last six months!-—Harper’s Bazar. —_—————— ———————— AN OBLIGING LANDLORD. Prospective guest—Where are the golf links? Proprietor of the *“One-Horse Hotel'— What are golf links, young man? Prospective guest—What are golf links? Duc_sn't your advertisement say ‘‘boating, fishing and golf?” And you don’t know what golf links are? Proprietor—Well, I put in the adver- l.isenmnt because I thought some folks 'd hkfe to pl.ay golf, an’ I had no objection to 'em doin’ it, but I thought they’d bring along whatever they needed for playin’ the game.—Brooklyn Life. IN THE SANCTUM. Copyreader—Here's a four-column story on germs in drinking water. What shall I do with it? Editor—Kill the germs. Copyreader—XKill the germs? Editor—Yes; boil it down.—Syracuse Herald. £ RANK INFIDELITY. Divorce Lawyer—You say you want to sue your husband for divorce on the ground of infidelity? Woman—Yais, sah. De misabul infidul say he doan’ believe de whale evah swallered Jonah, or de ani- mals went into de ark, or nuffin’.—Judge. TOUCHED. ., The Pastor—Don’t you think I touched them rather deeply this morning? The Deacon—I don’t know. I haven't counted up yet.—Indianapolis Press. “Grafter must have turned over a new leaf. He tells me he’s working night and day.” “Yes, that’s the firm he’'s with now.” “What?” *“Knight & Day.”"—Phil- adelphia Press. et e e e e v‘ g THE SUNDAY CALL. SEEMED THAT WAY TO HER. *“Have you read ‘How Men Propose’?” “No; I never did care for fiction.” @ fffenioei=et A DELICATE HINT. Fair widow—Yes, I've made up my mind that when I die I shali be cremated, as my husband was. Gallant captain—Dear lady, please don’t talk about such dreadful things. Consider how much better it would be in your case to—er—cross out the c.—Punch. QUITE REASONABLE. Mrs. Hicks—Do you believe in ghosts? Mrs. Wicks—Why shouldn’'t I? No ghost ever told me a lie.—Boston Tran- script. HIS LAST WORDS. Father—Have you anything to say be- fore I whip you, Bobby?"” Bobby—Yes, sir; it's going to hurt me worse than it does you.—Puck. ORI TRETATHE T X T RETR TR TH AT R RT R R @ : ol 0 S S O o o o “The boss at the quarry bet Tim he couldn’t dhrink four quartz av ;hwlsky In many hours. “And did Tim win th’ bet? “He did.” . *“And thin phwat did he do?” *“He wint off and got dhrunk.” B B S e IR SR S S S = WHAT WILL THE HARVEST BE? Mamma—Now, go and say good-night to | your governess, like a good little girl, and give her a kiss. ’ Little Puss—I'll say good-night, but I won’'t give her a kiss. Mamma—That s naughty! Why woen't you give her'a kiss? ’ Little Puss—Because she slaps people’s faces when they try to kiss her. Mamma—Now, don't talk nonsense, but do as you're told. Liitle Pucs- Well, mummy, if you den't beileve me—ask papa'--Punch. DREARY. In the paresis ward a venerable old man accosted us. “What a dreary world this would be,” he fervently exclaimed, “if miss did not rhyme with kiss and kisses with Mrs.!" Then he rung our hand and turned away. Upon inquiry we learned that the man had been a humorous poet whom the lux- urious living incidental to his calling had driven mad.—Exchange. CLEVER OLD MAN. £ She—Well, Arthur, did you tell dad that little fib about the prospective large sal- ary you confidently anticipated you would soon be earning? He (gloomingly)—M'yes. She—Well? He—He-borrowed a couple of pounds on the spot!—Punch, ALWAYS ALIVE. New Foreman—Little shert of copy, sir. Editor—Don’t you know the standing rule of the office? New Foreman—No, sir; what is it? Editor—When short of copy always run the portrait of the Dowager Empress of China.—Cleveland Plain-Dealer. AND WILLIE KENEW. Little Willie—Paw, is ma a microbe? Mr. Henpeck—Why, no, Willle. What makes you ask such a question? Little Willie—Well, the teacher told us that baldness was caused by & microbe.— Baltimore American. HIS STRANGE ANSWER. Traveler (in the midst of a story of some length)—Well, you know how you feel when you have a bullet through your shoulder, general? The General—Yes, bored! (Traveler is 4ett in painful doubt.) THE SITUATION. The author—I wish I had time enough to write a good book. His friend—Why not take it? The author—Can’'t afford to. I am too busy writing successful ones.—Life. AWFUL. *“Thes# Boxers must be terrible poopfe." *“Yes. They coul@n’t act much worse If they were trying to civilize another coun- try.”—Life. Kis Liitle Jcke. A gentleman walking along the streets of London on a reeent muddy day sud- denly stopped and began turning over the mud with the ‘point of his umbrella. e had not been oecupied thus for many min- utes before a street arab came along, who, after watching the operations for a short time, broke out with: *“I say, guv'nor, what are you looking for?” The gentleman looked up and quietly re- marked: “I'm looking for a sovereign, my “You are, eh? Then I'm with you, gov’- nor,” and the urchin fell to seraping in the mud with his fingers for all he was worth. Soon a second boy came along. asked the same question, received the same answer and fell to in the same man- ner. Then a third, a fourth and a fifth appeared, and so on, until quite a large crowd joined in the search and kept at it with amazing perseverance. At last, when every available scrap of mud within a radius of at least five yards had been turned over two or three times, the crowd began to grow restless and the first boy turned to the gentleman and asked: “I say, gov'nor, whereé did you lose that sovereign?”’ “My boy,” remarked the gentleman, calmly, as he walked away, “I bave not lost any sovereign. I never said I had. 1 was merely looking for one.”—London Titbits. RIGHT. Schoolteacher—What little boy can tell me where is the home of the swallow? Bobby—I1 kin, please. Schoolteacher—Well, Bobby? Bobby—The home pf the swallow is the stummick.—Tit-Bits. ANOTHER ON CHICAGO. The Philadelphian—Isn’t the mud on this street a trifle deep? Chicagoan (preoudly)—Deep? It is the the deepest mud on any paved street in world.—Indianapolis Press. NOT A POWER. ‘““Have you never had an ambition to take rank among the European powers?”’ “No,”” answered the Sultan of Turkey, “my Government is perfectly coniert (o drift along and be tolerated as cne of Europe’'s little weaknesses.”—Washington Star. P TH T AT AT O * <@ sk < < Up-to-date Stork—How is this for a necktie? P THA TS AT AT AT H T AT @ NO ALTERNATIVE. “That’s a terrible noise in the nursery, Mollie,” said the mistress. *““What's the matter? Can’t you keep the baby quiet?” “Shure, ma'am,” replied Mollie, “I can't keep him quiet unless I let him make a noise.””—St. Louls Globe-Democrat. PTATATATHIAAT AT AT P WHAT CAUGHT HER EYE. Flora—How could you ever fall in love with such a homely man? His figure is something awful. Dora—Yes, but he has a lovely one at the bank.