The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 28, 1900, Page 2

Foad Hearts. *“Yes, siree,” remnrkéd the Lunchroom Conversationalist, “it certainly is queer how afraid some folk are of the sea. isn’t it?” The other four at the table looked fix- elly at their plates ‘and maintathed a stolid silence. g X ¢ “In some cases,” went om the Lunch- room Conversationalist, = *thig fear amounts to a positive horrer. 1 was read- ing of a sad case of that sort the other day. The American wife of a young Eng- lishman who had been meeting with great success in his line of business in Chicago went to England with her two children just for the sake of seeing country her husband—whom she been born in. Well, there was an accident to the steamer that took her and the children across and for a few hours the vessel was at the mercy of the rsging sed. The ordeal had such an .ffect upon the wourg wife and mother thct she made a vow thai if she should ‘evér reach the land again she would mever intrust her- self nor her children to the mercy of the cruel and vasty deep agam as long as she lived. All this G:appened rix years ago, and during all that !ime she has stuck to her vow. She has longed to see Her wor- shiped husband again, but the ocean gained such a horror for her on the one vovage that she made that she is deter- mined to stick to ‘her vowto the day of her death. 8o here, in this case, were two loving young people sadly separated from each other solely on mccount of the hor- ror one of them had conceived for the rolling main.” » At this point the Luncheon Conversas tionalist leaned back In his chair and looked reflectively out of the window. ‘“‘S8eparated, you say?” put in one of the other four at the table, after a pause. *“If his wife was so afraid of the sea that she wouldn’t return to this ecountry, why the dickens, then, @idn’t her English hus- band close out his affairs in the United States and join his wife In England?” ‘“Well,”” replied the Luncheon Conversa- tionalist, picking up his hat and making three strides of it to the screen door, ‘‘he would have done that, you see, but foe the past six years he has been doing time @ O e N ) \ W\ THE SUNDAY OCALL. Nora Crett—Now that we have declared our engagement off, give me back my lock of hair. Noah Phence—Do I resemble a bottle of hair restorer? HE HAD PUMPED. Journalist—Queer saying that about truth lying at the bottom of the well. Lawyer—You wouldn’t think so if you knew the amount of pumping we lawyers have to do to get at it. in Joliet on a twenty-fivesyear sentence for highway robbery, and of course—"" He dodged the piece of custard pie and the three chocolate eclaires that were sent after him, and went down the street like a man plunged in a tender reverie. — Washington Post, 3 —_——— ——————— AT THE PHOTOGRAPHER'S. “Look pleasant; 186k pleasant,” wurged the photographer, with the bulb in his hand. “You seem to forget,” replied the vic- tim, *“what you are charging me for these photographs.”’—Detroit Free Press. O ® HATEFUL THING. She—1 see they’'ve invented another la- bor-saving machine that works automati- cally and takes the place of a man. They’ll never invent anything, though, to take woman’'s place in this world. He—Oh, I don’t know. .There's the pho- nograph.—Philadelphia Press. REACTION. “The typewriter girl is unusually dis- agreeable this morning.” ‘““Yes; probably it is because she sat up late. last night making herself unusually agreeable.””—Chicago Record. .++ O Q ¥ THE REQUIREMENTS, Chawly—Say! uncle, what does er man have to be to have a miitary funeral? General Walace—Dead. Against Alliteration. Silent serenity sat supreme in the pretty pink parlor of sweet, snuggling Sally s happy Harlem home. The miserable mo- ment of midnight made militant Mortimer squeezing ‘sweet, snuggling Sal- y’s sylph-like sixteen-Inch sash, he @ared to do damage to her lovely lips in the de- liclous darkness. Luminous lamps light- ed the harmonious hallway, but blssiul blackness blessed the babes in the pretty pink parior. Suddenly stole om this sumptuously gighing, sibilant scene a sad and sor- rowful sound. The dire and dreadful veoluminous” veice of the soft, snuggling Sally’s paternal parent, cruel and coarse, was heard in the hallway. From the top of the tall, way bhe roared rumblingly: “Tell me, the time!” Sweet, soft, snuggling, snickering Sally sought sanctuary, sylph-like and simple. . she said, glancing gracefully at the anclent, ancestral, artistic and amia ble anachronism in the humble, harmoni- steep stair- , ten ticks te “Please, ] 10 by the timepiece. “So,” snapped the sneering and smarl- ing old cynic, “when that darnation, did- dering dude departs start the clock.™ This was the terrible time of twelve thirty-twe. . An ancient, ancestral anachronism was again allowed to aceelerate the approxi- mation of its hands in the humple_ har- monious hallway to the sanyistic zenith at twelve thirty-three. Meanwhile mournful, militant Mortimer Mountjoy miserably made movements, meandering meekly to mother in the mild midwinter . HINT FROM THE BARBER. A suspicious iooking individual entered a barber’'s shop, and while being shaved casually remarked: “I suppose a good many of your cus- tomers forget to pay?” “No, sir,” the barber replied. ‘“‘There was a time when I used to give credlit, but I never do now. In fact, nobody asks for it any more.” “How’s that?” “Well, you see’” said the barber, “whenever I shaved a gentleman who asked me to mark it up I put a nick in his nose with my razor and kept tally that way. They very soon don’'t want to run up bills.” - 2 There was a tremor in the customer’s voice as he asked beneath the lather: “Do you object to being paid in ad- vance?’—S8t. Louis Post Dispatch. S ANOTHER SOUL MISJUDGED. “So that old miser uncle of yours is dead? Well, 1 suppose you feel better now that he isn’t here to scandalize your | family by his niggardly way of living?” | “No, confound him! He didn't leave | anything behind to show thal he was a miser after all.”"—Chicago Times-Herald. SPORTY, Walker—The bride was quite a popular | D e e i e ‘l;lvuklmmtn-‘—h;e’s indeed. The Eveni-"s.: TRAT REWE — Bgeniwa Scarifier sent its sperting man to report | «yhat an indific.... it. He printed a list of rejected lovers | guke Gibbs has!” _._.___~___...-.. .________-_______.___.mm___.____._.______»____— A y i ° : H ‘ ; o _ £ WHAT HE GOT “They say Grace is a Methodist 2 “Neo; she's a Shaker. “How de ycu know? “She shock me. iir young Marma- half a column long under the headinrg| ‘“Yes. Pity he's so rich; he would make “Among Those Who Alse Ran.“—St.Ia gooé street car conduwctor.—Chicago Louis Post Dispatch. | Record D S e e < HOW TO PLEASE THE BABY. the baby a hearty kiss, m a squeeze and a hug like this, him ‘bhim a romp and a dance on your knee, roll on the rug and pictures to see. baby a bouncing ball, & paper of pins and a doll, some matches, a bottle of ink, A small box of pepper and mucilage to deink; him think, —GEORGE R. BRILL,