The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 4, 1903, Page 7

THE SUNDAY CALL. When an old man falls in love & morgue is a cheerful farce comedy com- ed with the exhibition he makes of When &n old waman falls in t let us weep, the spectacle is wing. - too k » = an of dyspepsia. He's dead. y days cured a Connecticut R N The girl who thinks she has brai o please as tc - oes not obiect to gray hair as long as her face remains kles ue, pace with the gray that it all hurts, seldom a favorite with men. It is i A busband or wife develops either the best or the worst qualities in the other. R B e wheel, some keep their noses at the have the steady contract of support- Some o might as well try to remove mountains with a toothpick as to try to remove some women's prejudices g gl the woman who pe: us hanging p 2 man ceases to e were the star of a «« " telll & your best story and the other fellow yawns, be sure to to sleep and c..! of his misery. . . worry, the old lady has er now? Don't you y neymoon always wears a mask which matrimony dis- be a fool. a skel or a dear little Cupid. T e may sing “They’re after me.” hether after divorce a m: Alimony comes divorce. We all know that love makes nto an insane asylum. nd some marry money. - A badly cooked dinner wil fashioned 1 turn love’s young dream into a regular old- it even in horses. Flora . while the man is on They will kiss RACLE 'S SLY TIPS. By S E. KISER. Sept. 2—If T was a poet, which I I ng certain lines, I'd college boys that crops. Lots of battle fields and t brave young men all the way wheat is the I owhere, al- t Sherm that kind of i I claim there's s the nobleness of en to become heroes R r at t night before last when him and me le stand they made while ey ought to have about as to be hangin’ back fer fur- s country, too. What s brought in closer 't been what you might call much touch farmer happened to mingle in 2 crowd t keep his hand on his pocketbook. or get a time the young r raked and scraped to send his boy away to ev of the cdllege graduates t no better way to get he thinks he to Kansas will kind of look up a disgrace to be distantly related can do. me in mind of Bill Hopkins, who owns a farm down in Adams I ca'm from. I was back there seein’ some of the | told me about his wife’s nephew comin’ down le experience of regular farm Bill showed me As near as I can remember it he said: pa says he doesn’t want to put me at work in 's work on a farm to give me the right kind r’s a little cranky on the subject, and I sup- s. He worked on a farm when he was a at makes him so robust now. But that’s all bosh. s farm idea of his is the worst in the hottest kind of a sun al, but eighteen holes are as many r farming amounts to. But as I say, 't mind I'll come down for awhile fun of the thing.’ le hard for the boy just to take y when Mr. Percival got down ' season. , ‘and we'll clean up the back glad you came. That hired tended it made him tired just to . and he was all tuckered out after he'd e glad to have somebody to helb as though he was goin’ to e n when the hay was being loaded and then ow when they’'d hauled it in the barn. I hot up there, as it generally is, and y, it seems that Percival's y'd put in the second load, and e was any ice water on the pl After the fourth ty. He said some strange things about the cracks in the side of the barn and try and Bill says he was a horrible lookin’ hands, his wet hair hangin’ over his ook in his eyes showin’ as plain as if out that he hadn't the least hope of ever ied out of sight, with his eyes all glassy, up and gaspin’ the doctor’d got him brovght around again so he could rimself the boy said he thought he'd go back home and s constitution. But before he went he kind of sidled up m as respectful as though he’d of been almost a care he'd just like to shake him by the hand once There's 2 boy that zin't lookin’ down on the farmer these aroun the opinion that people who can’t make a livin’ ng else can always have farmin’ to fall back on if it comes to a g back. be surprised if some of them Harvard boys might go back ost thinkin' there's some things about farmers that ain't matter. spreading of knowledge, JEFFERSON DOBBS. TOBY. By Old John “Gorgon’” Graham. i NEVER do business with a woman that I don't think of a little incident which happened when I was first married to your ma. We set up housekeeping in one of those cottages that you read about in the story books, but that you wint to shyaway from when it's put up to you to live in one of them. It was just the place to go for a picnic, but it's been my experience that a fellow does most of his picnicking before he’s married. Your ma did the cooking and I hustled for things to cook, though I would take a shy at it myself once in a while and get up my muscle tossing flapjac It was pretty rough sailing, you , but one way and another we managed to get a good d of satisfaction out of it. because we had made up our mmd: to take our fun as we went along. With most peo happiness is something that is always just a day off. But I have made it 3 rule never to put off being happy til to-morrow. I was clerking in a general store at that time. but I had a little weakness for livestock, even then: and while I couldn’t afford to piunge in it exactly, 1 managed to buy a likely nitle shoat that I reckoned on carrving through the symmer on credit and presenting with a bill for board in the fall, He was just a pl.in pig when he came to us, and we kept him in a little sty, but we weren't long in finv.ng out that I|e wasn't any ordinary root-and-grunt pig. The first 1 knew your ma was calling him Teby, and had turned him loose. Answered to his name like a dog. Never saw such a sociable pig. Wanted to sit on the porch with us. Tried to come into the house evenings. Used to run down the road squealing for joy when he saw me coming home from work. Well, it got on toward Novémber and Toby had been making the most of his opportunit that turned corn into fat so fast, and the stouter he got the better his disposition grew. I r him myself, in a sort of a_sneaking wav. but I was mighty fond of hog me So I sent around and had him butchered. When I got home to dinner next day I noticed that your ma looked mighty down in front of me, but I straved off. thinking of something clse, as I carved. sure enough when I said: “Will you have a piece of Toby, my dear?” Well, sir, she just looked at me for a moment, and then she burst out crying and ran But when T went aiter her and asked her what was the matter she stooped cr way through. Called ‘me a heartless, cruel cannibal. That seemed to rulxuc her so that she got over her mad and began to cry again. Begged me to take Toby out of pickle and to bury him in the garden. 1 reasoned with her. and in the end I made her see that any obsequies for Toby, with pork at 8 cents a pound, would be a pretty expensive funeral for us. But first and last she had managed to take my appetite away so that I didn’t want any roast pork for dinner or cold pork for supper. That night I took what was leit of Toby to a store-keeper at the Crossing, who I knew would be able to gaze on his_hams without, bursting into tears, and got a pretty fair price for him I simply mentfon Toby in_ passing as an example of why I believe women weren 't cut out for busmcss—a! least for the pork-packing business. I've had dealings with a good manv of them, first and last, and it's been mv expe- rience that when they've got a weak case they add their sex to it and win. and that when they've got a strong case they subtract their sex from it and deal with you harder than a man. They're simply bound to win either way, and I don't like to play a game where I haven’t any show. When a clerk makes a fool break, I don’t want to beg his pardon for calhng his attention to it, and I don’t want him to blush and tremble and leak a little brine into a fancy pocket handkerchie! A lxme change is a mighty soothing thing, and I like a woman's wavs too much at home to care very much for them at the office. Instead of hiring women I try to hire their husbands and then I usually have them both working for me. There’s nothing like a woman at hnmc to spur on a man at the office. From_‘‘Letters from & Self-made Merchans to His Son,” by George Horace Lorimer. By permission of Small, Maynard & Co., Publishers, Boston, Mass, “RISS ME GOOD NIGHT.” My white-robed baby pleaded still— “Pease, mama, pease, I tant sleep now.” s. I never saw a pig kon I was attached to too, and we needed Toby in the kitchen. as she sct the roast of park and mvy wits were off wool ga('uerm’ away from the table. ying and was mad in a minute all the “Pease, mama, pease, tiss me dood night,” My blue-eyed babe with sunny curls Stood pleading "tween her sobs and tears— 1 said, “I can't kiss naughty girls.” All_through that agonizing night Delirious she moaned in pain. The little broken heart lt"l plead For kisses that I gave in vain. 1 led her to her snowy cot. "Peau, mama, pease,” she s bbed again, “I won’t be naughty any mor: oI left her, all her pleadings vain. I had been reared in Spartan school, And deemed it duty to control With rigid rule, nor never knew That love with love should sway the soul. '"Twas midnight when I felt a touch—" A fever'd hand lay on my brow, At dawn the angels hovered near: She nestled close and smiled and said, “I won't be naughty any more.” And in my arms my babe lay—dead. And T am old—the passing years Have brought no :om{on in their flight; My heart still hears that sobbing cry, “Pease, mama, pease, tiss mednod night.” mmmw.m times or more, or do some equally reck- Jess stunt to the{.r reputations. Hobson kissed some girls who wers u: aching hlm. Dewey got gay and got married Mil i tlvbod{ but wife as far as we know, and Schley, dear ol but never m nner tell what we know about naval officers. The Question is Does it pay to be.u he:o? Enmlemen. don't all speak at once. It would take a whole dyu:mhe.hcu:ry to explode some people’s theories A woman’s character is c:lten 'wrin:n in the holes of her stockings. A smile may mean mythl:u !rc:m a.Sm bill to a nickel in the slot. W. J. B, will please take a back seat. Daughter Ruth is now the lead- ing lady and holds the :u:nr_d tl:‘ stage. B A lovesick woman thinks she is both a mystery and a she’s oaly a plain, every-day f.ooL i Some people think they are in love when they are only dyspeptic. O TR martyr, whea A good woman is her own guardian angel, 9 A man is never too old or too wise to be made a fool of by a pretty woman. . e A designing woman mnti‘lalu‘Nlture'l best design. - It is natural for a woman to love finery. To display this love is unnat- wral and spoils the effect of b‘oth the woman and the finery. e If husbands and wives were always sweethearts there would be no long- ings for another and better :orld‘ # ‘What is everybody’s buxh:eu l.s nobody’s business. . Many people are victims of misplaced confidence—in themselves. s & e Habit is something that grows. You cannot see the roots, but yow can sometimes feel them burrow in pr:(ty deep. sl The fool thinks he's awfully wise, and the wise fears he's an awful foel. o BT What is the difference between an unappropriated blessing, a retired girl and a good old-fashioned old maid? Girls, one at & & e e A woman never really loves a man who is not her lord and master. - - - Love is like music—either harmony or wretched discord. o e who jumps at conclusions often finds that the conclusion - A man didn’t jump. THE PROFITABLE SON Fable for the Foolish. N uncertain rich man had two sons; that was what made kim uncertain. If they had been girls he might have married them off to black-whiskered, tailor-made titles and so bave removed the uncertainty. Men whose daughters marry whiskers and a title know what's coming to them. If they had been bull pups he could have gone into politics and bought a moated grange for them by a judicious manipula- tion of the mote that is in the public eye. If they had been porous plasters he could have found a place for them in the civil ser- vice, where their sole labor would have been to stick fast and draw—once a month. There are a number of useful things that those boys might have been, but being only boys it was up to the old man to fill his hand before they called him. When the younger son had arrived at the years generally called discre- tion—he had the years all right, but the discretion had been mislaid in doing up the package and was not found until the boy had outgrown it—he made the old man a proposition. “Father, dear father,” he said, “I have long ob- served that you are cumbered with many cares and coupons and my boyish heart is touched and repentant of its thoughtlessness. To see your -once golden hair slowly turning to silver brings the Bryany tears to my eyes and the sight of your back bending under the weight of an increasing wad of long green fills me with a great longing to lift some of the grievous burden from your weary shoulders. So I beg you to unload upon me a few sacks of your trouble that I may hie me into a far country, as far as Cambridue, Mass. There will I dally a short while with the classic muses, or the musle classes, or anything else that seems to be a fit subject for dallying.” Then the proud father, with the joy and alacrity of one ascending the dentist’s chair, pried himself loose from a large bunch of trouble and the ° younger son got himself away to the land of baked beans and culchaw a Ia mode. The elder son reioiced at his departure with a large three-ply rejolc- ing, for he hated the town of Cambridge and he knew his brother. Besides it stirred his filial soul to a generous rivalry in the noble task of relieving the old man of his troubles. Hapoy father to have two such unselfish sons to do for him. In the pride of his heart he oft repeated to himself that touching motto of the uncertain rich: “To do others that your sons may de you The years sped swiftly as on the wings of an overdue promissory note, and the frequent and insistent sight draft brought to the fond and foollsly parent tidings of his younger son’s doings—and duns—in the land of the stranger—than fiction. Ever and anon some wanderer newly released from serving his term in Cambridge would tell him of the young man’s achieve- ments in the great university in which the town is located. Once it wag of his leading his class in geometry, especially in the study of cubes—with spots on them. Then again the gl~d tidings came of his prominence in the artis- tic circles of the university: he had drawn for a full house—and got &2 In athletics, too, his name was known and honored; he had been asked to play center field on the baseball team because he never failed to take a high-ball when any one else suggested it. At last the young man concluded that he had brought the university te a place where he could safely leave it—a decision in which the university cheerfully concurred—and he came again to his father’s door. The old man saw him—he thought that he might as well see him since he had raised him once—and went out and fell on his neck and wept, for the dutiful son threw his poor old father down so hard that it broke a $10 bill in the old man’s pocket. The boy picked up the change before the old man had had time to decide whether he was trying to get off a Broadway car or was officlating at a church euchre. The youngster hadn’t played center on the football team for nothing and the old man was lucky to get a quarter back. There's nothing like a big neck and a pair of shoulders to match it for making people glad to see yon. That night there was feasting and great joy in that home. The old man ordered up the best imported headache—made in New Jersey and bottled in Fulton street—and half a dozen stockholders a la Newburg. When the elder son drew near and heard the sounds of merriment within he wondered much and was exceeding wroth, so that he said: “Father, have I not also eased you of many of your burdens and you never yet gave me even a fatted di- rector. 1 have stood by you—while you were making your will—I have made your name a household word—in police stations—throughout the length and breadth of the city, and you have given me nothing—that I have not been willing to take.” Then the father made answer something as follows: “Behold, this is my son who was in Cambridge and is in New York again. He has been through deep waters and you know how he always hated water. He has eaten husks —at the Parker House; I know, for I paid for the husks. Come, feel of your brother’s biceps and then let him geverely alone.” The envious elder brother was still waxing somewhat wroth, although the sight of the rear elevation of his brother’s biceps had reduced his visi- ible supply of wax perceptibly, so that the old man spoke with him more to the point. “My son, see you not where we come in? This thy brother is just the build for the United States Senate. His right arm lead to the jaw will make him a mighty power in debate and do much to redress the balance of the North against the South. Besides, it's a good thing to have a Senator or two in the family. You can never tell when you may need one.” The old man’s argument was as unanswerable as a civil service exami- nation and he sent an order to the State Legislature for one United States Senator, prepaid, that very night. Those who have been admitted to the secret of making United States Senators are urged to forget it and to re- member that all things come to him who waits—especially to the heavy- weights—and also that the problem of the overproduction of collegs grade uates has been solved at last. (Copyright, 1903, by Albert Britt).