The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 16, 1900, Page 7

THE SUNDAY CALL. RUBBER. Tom N. Jerry—What A B. Home—My wife. O < AT A TRHTI>A DR DA DELICATELY PUT. | Lingering Caller—Perhaps you were go- ing 3t We might go together stess—Oh, Bored Hq I'm that!—Moonshine. not going 80 NOT A STRONG CANDIDATE Unstrong—Did he prove to be a stout | candidate? "N the second assessment broke him.” —Detroit Journal. PROSPEROUS. | Sister—Sold anything lately, Arthur? 1 onsolate Artist—Yes; most of my ure.—The King. CLLOSE TO THE FRONT. | “RBigsby has a peculiar bald head. Looks as if he had been scalped.” i “Frontier life has something to do with it, 1 suppose.” “Yep. Front tier 2t all the ballet shows.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer. He knew what they always say, so he thought he would forestall her. *“I sup- pose you've been Kkissed by a man be- fore?’ he said. "Do you look as homely gs all that?” she demanded haughtily. I | “Now, Johnny, do you understand thor- | oughly why I am ing to whip you?”’ “Yes, pa You're in"a bad temper this mornir n’ you've got to hit some one before you feel satisfied.” | @ A A TOA TR TOA TR AT i the most curious thing yvou ever saw in the world? ! with him.”—Indianapolis i'ress. 1 | | } i K AT R AR SRR TP | QUALIFIED. ‘ “Yes, 1 advertised for a clerk,” said the | lawyer, taking the cigar trom his mouth | ind throwing out his chest. ““What quali- | ficati have you?” | *“1 can lie a little, timidly.—Yonkers sir,” replied the boy | Statesman. g MORE INFORMATION. | { Tommy—Say, paw. | Mr. Figg—Well? | “What is a flopper?”’ | “A flopper, my son, s a man that] leaves his party because he cannot take it | | BOND OF SYMPATHY. “Do vyou like yo(zng Mr. CQlifford’'s looks 7" *“Yes, I do very much.” ‘ “Don’t his ears seem rather long?" ! “Yes; they are rather long. But you must remember that I'm a Missouri girl, | and dad made his fortune trading mules.” —Cleveland Plain Dealer. A DASHING MISS. “Ie she-a girl of the period?” | “Oh, no; she never punctuates with any- | thing but dashes.”’—Philadelphia Bulletin. | She—"Don’t vou feel a draught overi there by that window?’ He (timidly)— “Yes, 1 b-believe I do. Shall I p-pu!l. down the b-blind, or ¢c-come over and s-sit by you?’' She—“Well, I would advise you | to pull down the blind first.” | -TSH TR SO TSRO @ | THE NEW CAT AND THE OLD DOG. Miss Kittish—I"ve ripped my bloomers. Will you sell me a pair of your pants? Weaggish Mr. Bowser—Let me see the size of your purrs first, the pane and then trickled down the sill. How JIt Rained. How_ it rained! The huge drops pelted “Just such a night as twenty-five years ago,” murmured the old man with the snuffbox. The bell rang sharply. The old man hobbled over and opened the door, “Who is there?” he called. “You wid soon know,” replied the stranger. *“It's a wild night.” “Tiercel” “Jugt such a night as twenty-five years Rgo.“ ‘“What?” “And you found a basket on your step.” “How do yvou know this?”’ “And when you took the basket in you found it contained an infant. You admit this?” Y “Yes; but —" “And then [ suppose you remember tak- ing the infant to a warm fire and drying its ciothes?” “I do.” “And then you treated the outcast as your own kin until he was 15 years of age."” “I remember all., At 15 he left my hum- ble roof to seek his fortune.” “But he didn't find it!” “Then he must be —" “lie stands before you.” “And you have come back after all these years to thank me?” “No; I have come back to lick you.” *“What?"” “Yes, to lick vou for taking me in. If you had not disturbed that basket the chances are some wealthy, childless woman would have seen me from her car- riage window anrd taken me for adoption. Then instead of being a tramp 1 would be rolling in the lap of luxury. Old man, I can never forgive you. Come out here while 1 wipe the yard up with —" But the door slammed. How it rained.—Bar Harbor Life. e e e e A A, S e P e S S ————————— —— o e g sttt Landlady (pounding on the door of Irats | her slothful lodger’s room)—Is it dead or | alive ve are, Mister Maloney? Maloney (from within)—Nayther; I'm sleepin’! 4 Sv\\eq — WILL REMAIN AT LARGE. “Jones has gone clean daffy. I wonder they don’t put him in an asylum.” ‘““His property is so heavily mortgaged that none of his relatives want it.” BT E T A TR TR R, < @ “I see,’”” she said, ‘‘that a couple who were married the other day received twenty clocks as wedding presents.” “And vet,”” he bitterly replied, “I'll bet she’'ll never be in time when they are going out anywhere.” “The evidence,” said the magistrate, ‘‘is conclusive as to your having thrown a stoge at the man.” ‘Sure,” replied the defendant, an Irishwoman, “an’ the looks av the man shows more nor that, yer honor; it shows that Oi hit him.” @ TR A THEDT TR DR OSEDETEOIS RIS EDESHRS O NOT DISAPPOINTED. i vavey “I knowed it was wick I > edness of some sort!” O X AT ATEDTE D Y SR ESET RIS YT IS YD EP FOUND OUT. “Those people next door can’'t fool me; they haven't been married very long.” “How do you know?"”’ “She says she just loves to get up at 5 o’clock and get his breakfast.””—Chicago Record. AT THE OUTDOOR CLUB. “Mrs. Golightly, did Mrs. Deepdip have a fine paper on Buddha?”’ “Indeed she did. I just wish you had heard her rip him up the back.”—Indian- apolis Journal. HIS LIBERAL POLICY. “I believe in taking some things for granted.” ““Yes; when you lent me the novel you sald was so delightful 1 noticed that the leaves were not cut.”—Chicago Record. HOW IT WAS. “Did he marry her for her money?”’ “No, he married her money in spite of it.”—Detroit Free Press. ““Higgins, I've come to you for advice. What ought a man of my capabilities and opportunities to do in order to achieve the greatest success in life?” “Gurney, I wish you had come to me with that question about five years ago. I could have told you all about it then. I was just out of college.”’—Chicago Tri- bune. That a woman has no idea of distance is known by every husband who has heard his wife boast how far she makes her money go. FUSION. Democratic Manager—I am glad you have arranged a deal with the Populists in your loocality. What terms did you make with them? Subordinate Committeeman—Well, we gave them the platform and the candi- dates, and they let us call it the Demo- cratic ticket.—Chicago Tribune. THE SAME, WITH A DIFFERENCE. « She—What a fitting token of married life is the wedding ring. He—It is. A ring has no end; and it also has no beginning. It is absolutely without variety, and is much easier put on than taken off,.—Harlem Life. A SURE THING. Edith—I would be willing to marry the man I loved, even if he wasn't capable of earning over $10 a week. Ethel—So would I. Such men as that al- most always come of rich and influential families.—Puck. A CAUTIOUS VERDICT. “Do you consider conversation a lost art?” “Well, there’s too much talking done by talkative people, and too little talking done by people who don’t talk.”—Chicago Record. “I speak for the ‘Solid South, " cried the Democratic orator. “On election day Bryan will have all the whites with me.” “And the next day,”’ cried a voice in the crowd, “he will have the blues.”’—Phila~ delphia Press.