The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 30, 1900, Page 3

THE SUNDAY CALL, 3 orse Jhan Purglary. "“Help! Help! Police! Mereiful good- ness, where is that policeman?” When it 1s whooped up in this style along the upper section of Cass avenue from a front porch in the middle of the afternoon it Is paralyzing, bleod-curdling and generally terrifie. There was a great rushing forth of women. They held their dress=es in the hest positflon for running, leaned eagerly forward, asked what it could mean and wondered, One wiry Mttie woman of 70, gritty as she was venerable, beat the corpulent po- liceman to the scene of trouble, “What is . it?” they inquired in discordant chorus. “Here, my son, | played when an Innoeent child. How vividly these scenes re- “Burglar,” in high notes, “‘burglar in the’ call my youthful days! And here comes Jenkins, good, honest soul, whom I haven’t | cellar. Wonder that you got here at all. seen since he was a boy, sharirg our childigh sports! Well, well, Jenking, you | If you can’'t run faster than that why haven't forgotten the chum of your early days?”’ don't you walk or send for the wagon? ‘ Burglar in the cellar, T said.” ] | AI"I'IER MANY YEARS Jn a Carriage. “Say.”” he moaned, "1 didn’t do nutun’ dis time, honest.” “I atr’t takin’ you to the station house,” dented the officer, coloring and looking sideways at his companion. “You were run over and we are carry- ing you to where a doctor can see how much you are hurt,” said the girl, gently. The eyes of the boy turned to hers, and the face lost some of its fright and sus- picion. *‘Is dat on de level?' he asked, after a moment's serutiny. “Youse oin't runnin® me in?* “No,"” answered Miss Durant. ““We are taking you to the hospital.” “De harspital!” exelaimed the little chap, his eyes brightening. “Is 1 in de rattier ?* “The what?"’ asked Constance, “De rattler,”” repeated the questioner; “de ding-dong." “No, you ain't in no ambulance,” spoke up the officer. “You're in this young ladys carriage.” The look of hope and pride faded out of the boy's face. *‘lIse oin’t playin’ in no sorter luck dese days,” he sighed. Sud- denly the expression of alarm reappeared in his face. ““Where's me papes?”’ “They’re all right. Don't you work yourself up over them,” said the rounds- man, heartily, “Youse didn't let de udder newsies swipe dem, did youse?"’ the lad appealed, anxiously, “I'l pay you for every one you lost,” said she. “How many did you have?’ The boy hesitated and scanned her face as if he were measuring the girl more than he was his loss. ‘‘Dere wuz twenty Joinals,” he said, speaking slowly and his eyes watching her as a cat might a mouse, “‘an’'—an’'—twenty Wollds—an'—an’ —an' thirty Suns—an'-——an! thirty Tcle- grams—en'—an'—"" He drew a fresh breath, as if needing strength, shot an ap- prehensive glanee at the roundsman and went on hurriedly in a lower voice. “An’ thirty-five Posts—"' “Ah, g'long with you,”" broke in the po- liceman, disgustedly. *“He didn’t have more'n twenty in all, that I know.”— Harper's Magazine for Seplember. — e el e INVARIABLY 80. . —————————— “D-~1 guess not,”” from the policeman, "not in broad daylight.” “Well, sir, ycu can just guess again. Didn't 1 say there was a burglar in the cellar? Hasn't he been pounding, swear- ing and yelling to get out? I've got him trapped. Come on, if you are not afraid.” The policeman led the way. The woman of the house had a hatchet, the old lady was armed with a flatiron and the police- man had a gun in his hand as he raised the trapdoor with the other, Up the steep, narrow steps came a man with a lantern and a uniform. He was mad for keeps and roaring forth his word that somebody would pay for his imprisonment. “Been in there an hour,’ he announced. ‘‘Case of Mr. Jenkins-~Not much, Bill! An' I ain’t fergot thet jest afore you moved away | false imprisonment if there ever was one. you slapped my hat off into the ereek, llke thet, an'— Bolted the door just after 1 went down. s But don’t you forget that 1'll get satisfac- tion.”” ““Man that reads the meters,” sneered the policeman. “Came mighty near hitting him,"” trem- bled the old lady. “Lands, I forgot all about his going down,” from the lady of the house, “but his last bill was highway robbery anyhow, and that's worse than burglary."”--Detroi® SAME OLD STORY. starting on their honeymoon. The bride had got the man she loved, and she didn't care who saw her put her head on his shoulder. The bridegroom had got a farm with his wife, and if he wanted to squeeze her hand or feed her with sweets, whose business was it? A little old man sat op- posite the coupie, and he looked at them s0 often that the young husband finally explained: “We've just got married.” “1 knowed it all the time,” chuckled the other. *“And we can't help it, you know."” ; “No, you can't; I'tl _.be blowed if you can." i I presumc it all seems very silly to an , old man like you?"” " “Does it? does it?"' cackled the old fel- |tow. *“Well, I can tell you it does not, then. I've been there three times over, and now I'm on my way to marry a fourth. 8illy? Why, children, it's para- dise boiled down!'--London Answers, “Gracious!" exclaimed the great mer- chant's friend, ‘‘your establishment is simply stupendous. That tall, imposing looking man in that group yonder is the general manager or something, I sup- pose?”’ “No; that's a new $-a-week clerk. The short, quiet little man i8 the general man- ager.” —Philadelphia Press, NO REPOSE FOR THEM. ——kicked me 'cause I wouldn't jump in after it. You was a mean little cuss, an I've waited forty year for this 'ere chance ter git even! Two old jokes met in the next world. “well, well,”” said the Mother-in-law Joke, “‘are you dead at last?"’ “Yes,”' replied the Cook-and-Policeman Joke, ‘‘as dead as yom are. Of course, we are liable to be resurrected at any mo- ment.”’ . l They had just got married and were | 1 e et e —————————————————————————————————— bl i ST A PN B She—Of course you have heard of the théory that Bacon wrote Shakespeare's plays? Cholly—Aw-—yes—aw-—the idea is Johnnie—So that's the kind of boy vou was; and on)y yesterday you licked me fer thut Shakespeare was Bacon's nom de | sayin’ darn it.. If you don’t want this to get out, jest promise me a new bicycle CORROBORATIVE TESTIMONY plume, is i. not ?—Puck. right here! i E .,\\*Q*@*Q*@*Q*Q*@*@*Q*Q*@*0*@*«)—*@*@'*@*Q*Q*@N*{O*Q*@. Towne—There's one thing I've noticed ¢ A about Downe; he has a habit of jumping | MATTER OF FACT. at coneclusions. Haven't you noticed it? A—— Brown—Well, I've observed that he al- Mrs. Floodyer—Oh, Mr. Batts, how I en- | ways wakes with a start just as the min- Joyed your lovely volume of poems! ister is finishing his sermon.—Philadelphia Batts—You're very kind, indeed. Do you ! Press. like the Alcaic meter? ¥ ' e e Mrs. Floodyer—Alcaic meter? Oh, 1 see. RESERVED. You want to change the subject. Mod- esty’s the crown of genius, But reaily I “Henry, I wish you wouldn't lie down can't say. Does it save much gas?— ’ on those sofa cushions. Your clothes Brooklyn Life. are dusty and they smell of tobacco.” -— I “Indeed, Genevieve? What are thess l HIT HIM ON THE NOSE. sofa cushions for, may 1 ask?"’ ! Ll X [ “You know very well. Fido sleeps on | Willle—Tommy James went and hit me an awful crack with an apple. " ‘ Papa—On purpose?”’ { INEXCUSABLE. HARD ON HIM Willie—No, on the nose.—Tit-Bits. 1 230 Ada—Yes, she accepted him Monday HEARD IN THE PARK. night, but broke off the engagement ale ‘most immediately. “What are you crying for, my little| May—Indeed! Why? —_— N man?’ Ada—Well, I believe he omitted to say ‘‘Because you are sitting on my tart.””— | that he was the happiest man in the The King. world.—Brooklyn Life. @ TR TR TR TR T AT A TR R TR T T A TOh OO >R <-@ them. Youngwea—I say, old chap, what would you consider the hardest thing to lear about & baby? : Cynicus—Not talk about It [ R N e T SR SN0 S SRR S S e e ] DA RO R RGP ABOUT THE SIZE OF IT. TWO OF A KIND, Bome people deem it policy “She reminds me of Saturn.” To think before they speak; “Why If some others did likewise “It is pretty hard to tell what her rings They'd be silent for a week. are made of."” Chicago Daily News, i w——— 2 Bulk for Bulk--"But, your Majesty," COULD NOT SCARE HIM, feebly protested one of his confidential ad- visers, “‘will not that be a large province " HE'D TAKEN THE MEDICINE. TOO, Young Lady—If you make another ut-] to seize In retaliation for the murder of Customer—1 wish you'd give me a ccpy of the proscription you filled for me las tempt to kiss me I shall call my mother! | one missionary?"’ Not at all,” sternly an- | week, Admirer—Miss Ella, I am not afraid; | swered Emperor William. “He was an Druggist—1'1l have to give you the original. your mother is still a handsome and well- | unusually large-sized missionary.—Chi- Customer—Why? preserved widow.—Meggendorfer Blaetter. | cago Tribune. Druggist—Well. to tell you the truth, 1 can't read it