The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 9, 1900, Page 3

CALL. #An Ariful Deodger. To be perfectly honest, Brown does not £0 to his Griswold-street office every night that he tel his wife he is going there. The business which he says is pressing is frequently imaginary and the man whom he is going to meet does not exisi He belongs (o a club and clubs have their at- traction He thought that his wife was! growing suspicious, and Brown s re- scurceful ' i | On the evening in question, as the law- yers would say, he told her that there was & matter of business that could not pos- sibtly be deferred until the next day. About $§ o'clock she answered the 'phone | and w asked if Brown was at home and repl: hat he was at his office. uess not,” was the alarming response. Just down there and all looked ang off viciously, if women ever do such things, ordered a coupe, told the i v : « . 3 - ] 80 as last as the ordinance al- | W P KIng on temper as she wen(f | upstairs tc the office as though € were n hot pursuit. Her hus- \ met l'_: smilingly, insisted that she ,'. en him a hiful surprise, put . st chair near the light, handed : paper and Spologized for having to resume work that would possibly keep | him ti She coulu net explain, she ' < keep awake, she was ashamed X ers and after lamely telling that she h‘..‘\ reamed that he was ill she left n ten minutes he was at the club and s.’.‘.-'n fhiands with a man who smilingly asked if the scheme worked. He replied ‘hat 1t was as good as ready money for &l least sixty days and then each bought & stack of chips that pass in the night.— | Detroit Free Press. e ——e s, HIS ELECTRIC SPARK. The young lineman twirled his hat in | his hands in an agitated manner and | spoke in a voice that seemed to have a | tendency to zet away from him. ! “Millie, the fact is, I—I—there's some- thing I've been wanting to tell you for a long time tt I can’t seem to fetch it. When you look 2at me like that, you know, it breaks me all up. I've been com- ing here so jong that I oughtn’'t to be s d 1 ckon, but f you know how i aybe wyou den't either. 1 1 E a litde the liveliest wire | { think it would be so hard w! came to a dead stop. exciaimed in desperation, wri-circuited! I've burned out a f\-‘ yYou 1trying to ask me to m rse I will, you fooligh boy." rrent flowed unobstructed- | 1y 8 8 Y with its pure radi- | ar rose-er wered pathway that, | L T | a phia inguirer. ~ o T | - K worried,” remarked the first- Cca passer am, replied the other “Two days a5 I cabied to my wife, who is in Rome, tl would sail for Paris to-day, and | &sked her where 1 couid meet her. Justi k re s ing to-day 1 got this reply: | W I > on Friday at 3| o ock hia Press. | A | NOTHING ELSE TO DO. Fover—D re mean to say that ) ked Mis nging of that = ¥ I ough your life C u encore. awful. But my | oston Tr: nscript. _— | IN THE BUREAU OF NAVIGATION. | £ ! stood that most of thef the Chinamen would have | and. Possibly that is why | aground.—Buffalo Ex- fessor Sumner says that only 10 per {f the marriages are happy ones.” S sweet young thing, let us remember that | happiness are about | per cent better than those on a happy | wads or sorerserasensiiivisess SUBURBAN ATHLETICS. “How you must enjoy getting out to[ your country home and casting dull care the hot and dusty city!” | “Casting dull care to the winds! Oh,| say, now, you wouldn't call it dull to chase a runaway ccw three miles after dark, would you?”’—Detroit Free Press. THE ONLY WAY. Blade—Why isn’'t your wife playing golf with you as usual? Grasse—]1 asked her to stay at home to- day. I am trying to improve my game.— Harper's Bazar. SURE SIGN. THE SUNDAY THE LAST UAY AT THE SEASIDE. “FAREWELL, SWEETHEART, TILL THE SUMMER OF 191" | B AT AT AT A T A TR TR TR A AR AR TR DS R < I i SR TS P RS P, < < @ the proud young mamma. “I'm sure he’ll have a nose like him.”” “Yes,” replied the temperance lady from next door, ‘‘you give the little one gin for the colic, I un- il late, and it was rain- | to the winds after your hard day's teil in | derstand.”—Philadelphia Press. NO LOSS TO THE DENTIST. Patient—Great Scott, doctor! I've swal- lowed some of that gold you are plugging my teeth with. Dentist—Thank you for mentioning lt.'i 1 shail Include it in your bill.—Harper's Bazar. HIGH-TONEy BUTCHER. Housewlife—Is the calf’s liver fresh? Butcher (indignantly)—Fresh? Fresh? Let me tell you, ma'am, I slaughter only calves with fresh livers!—Meggensdorfes “Yes, baby looks like his papa,” said | Blaetter. TR E AR T RO R R T R A TR U A A SHE KNEw .HIM ALL RIGHT. “Introduce me to your sister, old man.” “] don’t think she wants to know you.” *“Why not?” “She’s seen you with me.” " had to stav i Mhaads. ~ pal SN g\_ . THE MAID FLED. “How haughty in his native grandeur! | How silent! How impressive!” she ex- ciaimed at the Indian show. “I wonder if he can speak English?” “No, madame,” said the heap big brave ' from Carlisle, “unfortunately, having | been deprived of educational advantages ! and those environments which might | have developed in me some degree of cul- | ture, the innumerable intricacies of your ldnguage are quite beyond my limited comprehen—"" 2 “But she had fled.—Denver Times. COLLECTING HIS THOUGHTS. “I'll want to take a littie time to collect my thoughts before I start out campaign- ing,” sald the worker. ‘“Now what in the worid do you want to waste your time taking up that kind of a collection?” inquired Sernator Sorghum, n excitement. “You can't buy votes with thoughts, ean you? You seem to be labor- ing under the delusion that we are get= ting up some kind@ of a scrapbook.”— Washington Star, VERY FUNNY. A pauper is a man ’‘at always worries quite a lot, Becos he can’t accumulate no money. The plutercrat he worries for fear 'at ° what he's got 'ld get away from him. Now, ain't it funny? —Catholic Standard and Times. THE IMPUDENCE OF SOME PEOPLE, “While my daughter was playing the piano last night a strange man stopped at the door and asked to be allowed to give her a dollar.” ““Was he such an ardent music lover”"”’ “No; he said it was merely a thank of- fering because he didn’t live next door to us.”'—Indianapolis Journal. SURPRISING INFORMATION. 0O1d Lady (pcinting to elevated railroad) | —¥Where do them cars go to? 4 | City Man (hurriedly)—Almost anywhere | you want. ma’am. Old Lady—Land sakes! on the [ thought they raiis.—New York Weekly.