The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 26, 1903, Page 6

e ey SOME UNUSUAL BITS TO SUIT THE - POPULAR FANCY JSingle Bliss Robs Middle Age of Its Dearest Happiness By Chauncey M. Depew. ICENTLY a young lady who had just come back from a month’'s honeymoon called on me. “How do you like matrimony " 1 asked. ‘I am utterly wretched,” she replied. 1 asked her why. “Because I did not try it sooner.” And that speech of hers, frivolous as it may appear, sounded the keynote of the marrying question far resonently than could the sneering epi- grams of a world full of cynics. I bear unqualified testimony to the fact that a man who passes his life in what is miscalled “single blessedness” has missed most of life’s pleasures. Life at 20—even at 30—may seem pleas- ant enough to a man without a wife to share its triumphs or faflures. The world is young. There i much to dis- tract and amuse. Home perhaps seems “‘a place to go when all the other places are closed.” Friends are plentiful; rela- and immediate family are about him. But when a man reaches middle or old age? Friends are not so many nor per- ps so disinterested as at 20. Old-time sures lack their zest. Blessed, thrice blessed, then, is thyf man who has home, wife and children to ease that last stage of life’s long climb. Most miserable of mortals is he who must look forward to a loveless and lonely old age. W ¥ Annexing a wife and family in youth is merely a higher and wiser form of put- ting money in bank. No other invest- ment yields such interest in later years. t a man fnarry just as soon as he can support afwife. The youth who puts off this great Btep in order that he arch through the world for an af- ¥"” is foolish. In the search he is ore than liable to pass by his true “af- nity d to choose at last a wife whom tretch of imagination could twist into an affinity for any one. The traditional man who wandered for days through rest looking for material for a cane. who at last picked up a crooked ick, was fortunate If that crooked stick not turn out to be a snake A man is just as likely to hit upon his ideal early in life as later on. My ad- ee, then, as the supposititic man’s dwyer, is: “Don't wait.” Marriage halves one’s privileges and doubles one’s troubles” is an idiotic saw probably invented by a bachelor. There is too much talk of this sort. Men speak of atrimony as a millstone tied about the neck of youth. The lives of the world’s successful men give the lie to this y ch the lives of the men who have , of the men who have hieved true greatness, who have won fame, who have acquired wealth. The vast majority of them were mar- ried. Of these the greater part married Their wives, instead of trans- themselves into shapely but heavy millstones and dangling about the galled necks of their liege lords, have, in nine cases out of ten, done more than all other influences combined to crown their husbands’ lives with success. Nearly all great men who have been married would confess they owed much of their fame or wealth to their wives. R There are, of course, obstacles to happi- ness in married life. So also are there reefs and shoals in the Atlantic. But the saflor does not for that reason become & lands He studies the shoals and learns woid them, The pitfails in mat- rimony can far more easily be studied and avoided by any couple possessed of a moderate degree of sense. My belief, from observation, is that se: enty-five out of 100 marriages are har d that not more than five out of mber are unhappy. Apart from love itself there is a com- panjonship in married life that draws closer and more beautiful as the years o by. During my last visit to Europe I met a distinguished man who expressed the deepest interest in our country. “Why do you not visit us then?’ I asked him, “if you have so kindly a feel- ing for America and the Americans?” ““Because,” he replied, simply, “my wife could not stand the voyage, and I would not, for any personal or selfish reason, be responsible for one day's separation from her.” The couple had been married forty years. Again, many a man or maid postpones rfarriage because in neither's heart, has dawned that wonderful greation of the novelist known as “love at first sight.” This is a mistake. Propinquity is the most powerful factor in making two bearts beat as one. TN el ] Many women féPm their ideals of a busband on novels and plays. Disillu- eionment is bound to follow. They find that the once idealized husband is only & common mortal without even a pin- feather on his shoulder blade. Then th wife feels she has been deceived. So she has. But by herself; not by her hus- band. Another grievous blow to many a wife is that her husband does not always re- main her lover. She forgets that he is toiling every day for her welfare, as no lover would toil. She forgets also the wide difference between masculine and feminine nature. Man loves, but not quite as woman loves, ‘While 2 man may become so wildly in- fatuated as to spend his business hours in drawing Cupids all over his letter- heads, yet love can never permanently occupy so large a place in his life as it does in woman's. His life is too full, too active, too varied in its interests. > 3 H n Concession on both sides is the sover- cign remedy for domestic differences. if you were to drop two strange cats into & barrel and then clap on the lid you would not marvel at the ensuing sounds of wrath nor at the floating upward of errant scraps of fur. Yet when a man and a woman, reared along different lines and in separate en- vironments, do not agree in every par- ticular the world stands aghast at the tale of martial infelicity. Whereas, a little forbearance, a careful study of each other’s moods and failings, will soon re- Jduce this strife to a minimum. I believe that no couple who began by loving each other and had the right con- sideration for each other ever came to serfous trouble. The effort of each to please the other leads in a little while to not having to try, because of the sym- pathy between them. “Kiss and make up” is a good rule. If the couple do not properly consider their relations there will be a good many kisses, but far more necessity of making up. Copyright, 1903, by Joseph B. Bowles. ——————— Wifey—Do you think there is a man hat could conscientiously say to his wife, “You are the only weman 1 ever loved? Hubby—Oniy one that I can think of. ‘Wifey=Who? You, dearest? Hubby—Ohb, no; Adam.—New Yorker. more truly and | + | Great Precision | Attained by Old [ Mechanic’s Hands { SRR, | By Malcolm McDouwell. | (Author N\ *'Shop Talk on the Wonders of the Crafts.”) N an Eastern locomotive works is a gray haired mechanic who can ‘‘feel” the thousandth part of an inch. His 1 fingers are calloused. His knuckles | are stiff from bard work. His palm 1s tough as leather. Yet with a pair of wab- | bly-legged calipers, the ordinary measur- ing appliance used in every machine shop in the country, he can detect the differ- ence between one inch and .99 inch. | There are michometer gauges which ac- curately measure to the thickness of a | bubble’s film. There are exquisitely fash- ioned machines which record almost in- finitesimal divisions of space. Thete are | other machines of well-nigh inconceiv- | able delicacy in operation which, with diamond points, rule thousands of crossed lines in a square inch of glass. And there are hundreds of men in overalls who, like | the old Eastern mechanic, accomplish the apparently impossible In the ordinary course of a day’s work, and that without realizing they are doing anything wonder- ful. . . The extraordinary accuracy in ‘nice measurements which enables a mechanic to note a difference of one one-thousandth | part of an inch in comparing two diam- eters is not given to every craftsman, but there are multitudes of workmen who, without knowing it, do almost incredibie things in their daily labor. Boring holes in a strip of wood fifteen inches apart is not much of a trick if the holes are marked beforehand.” But there | 1s a lad about 18 years old in an agricul- | tural implement factory who does nothing all day long but bore half-inch holes fif- | teen inches apart in strips of hard wood. The swiftly revolving auger sticks out horizontally from the machine. The lad presses the strip against the auger, which instantly zips through the wood. He then moves the strip along and an- other hole is bored, and 0 on to the end. | This operation is repeated with weari- some monotony all day and every day in | the week. No marks are made for the lad to set the auger to, yet careful meas- urements of a number of sticks showed that % per cent of the holes were exact- Iy fifteen inches apart, and in no case was there an error to exceed half an Inch. The ceaseless repetition of certain mo- tions had made the young lad a human measuring rod. A In another bullding not far from where he worked a power hammer all day long beats a merry tattoo and turns out har- | row teeth. Its operator is a boy who sits " on a high stool and with a pair of tongs | holds the red-hot *blanks” under the | hammer. His helper lays the heated | steel on an iron plate. The toothmaker picks it up sticks it under the hammer, presses a lever with his foot, and the hammer strikes rapidly and sharply, the cperator meanwhile turning the blank and pushing it forward. The latter move- ment is necessary to secure a sharp, even point. If moved forward too far the point is ragged; if not enough the point is too blunt. The boy has been making harrow teeth | a vear. Doing the same thing over and over again has turned living flesh and blood into an automatic feeding attach- ment to a power hammer. The muscles of his fingers, wrist and right arm work In beautiful harmony with the machine. They move the harrow tooth blank ex- actly the right distance at exactly the right time, apparently without mental et- fort, for the operator frequently reads the sporting columns of a newspaper, makinrg perfectly pointed harrow teeth the while. . g ibe | Much that is called skill and expertness | is but marvelous precision and wonder- ful uniformity secured after years of un- varied work One cannot feel the almost velvety smoothness of a hand-cut ‘“dead smooth” file without doubting the state- ment that every cut in it was made by the hand of a man and not by a machine. | A file is cut from an annealed or soft- ened steel blank. The chisel has a broed, | straight cutting edge. The hammer han- dle is inserted well up toward one end of | the hammer head, and when the workman | | strikes he gives a “pulling” blow which raises the “burr’ that makes a good | hand-cut file popMlar with mechanics. | | The file cutter, \a-straddle his bench, | works year after year on the same “cut” | of file, and in time becomes so much of a | machine that he can close his eyes and never miss a blow or spoil & cut. He is a mere automaton, yet the file eutters of all mechanics the most skilled and expert with the hammer and cold chisel. One need not search the machine shops and factories for examples of wonderful skill and expertness developed by repeti- | tion and sameness. He finds it in the ele- vator man who &tops his swiftly moving the fixed fioor level. He can see it in the gripman or motorman who brings his cable train or trolley car to a stop with | the rear platform exactly over the side- walk crossing. The dressmaker, swiftly plying her needle, discloses it in every stitch. The bricklayer, bullding a wall exactly plumb, demonstrates another phase of subconscious precision, and the skilled paper hanger, cutting a roll of wallpaper lengthwise without gauge or mark, seldom fails to make the edges parallel. ¢« s s But it is the engineer of a high-speed lecomotive who has attained almost ideal perfection In combining time accuracy, speed certainty and distance judgment to meet time table requirements. The man at the throttle, controlling with the nicest discrimination his steam propelled pro- jectile, welghing sometimes a hundred tons, has a new problem to solve every time he Degins a trip. The wind and weather, the condition of the rails, the weight of his train, the opposing move- ments of other trains, his own physical condition, are factors which enter into the problem. He must go a certain dis- tance within a specified number of min- utes, making specified stops between ter- minals, and he must arrive and leave “on time.” This means variations of speed between points, and yet day after day he drives his iron horse, now urging it to its highest speed, now sobthing it to a quiet run, arriving and departing to the migute, reeling off the miles™with confident certainty and finally pulling up at the terminal—"on time.” It's a wonderful performance when you come to think of it. Copyright, 1903, by Joseph B. Bowles. | “Both of my grandparents on er's side were nonagenarians,” Oldcastle. “Is that s0?" replied her hostess. “‘My folks was all Baptists, but Josiah comes my moth- sald Mrs. Townsend's California glace fruits and candies. Hc a pound, In artistic etched boxes. A nice present for East friends. 715 Market st., above Call Special information supplied daily to Press Clippi Burmunzblh '), I:yc:-il‘ A#n s), - fornia -met?‘ Telephone Main 1042. ¢ { would drop if leit alone. Sheffield, England, are declared to be of | car so that its floor level coincides with | from a Methodist family.”—Chicago Rec- | JOHN D. SPRECKELS, Propriefor. - . . . « . . . . Address All Communications to JOHN MIcNAUGHT, Manager - : y THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, MONDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1903. — e e THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL. Publioatiop OHMON. .. .c..etesessssssmpbessansens @ MONDAY.....oiituiiiiinnenttntes s tseitt ettt ee teeneessnsesssnaniaineninnenons .o .OCTOBER 26, 1903 ..;...............‘!'hl?d and Market Streets, S. F. TRADE STILL CONSERVATIVE. g (: ONSERVATISM still characterizes trade and cau- tion in buying is the dominant feature now. From all sectionsof the country come the reports that buyers are taking no more goods than they need and that the liberal and often thoughtless forward purchasing of the past several years is a thing of the past. Steel mills, iron furnaces, copper, coal and iron mines have shut down in a number of widely separated regions, another general re- duction in the price of pig iron is announced in spite of the recently diminished output and a movement is on foot to still further cut down the production unless business im- proves. Soft coal prices are held up purely by combination and The textile mills are no longer working overtime and refusing to accept orders where prompt delivery is required. They are now willing to ac- cept all business offered. The only briskness worthy of note among the great Eastern manufacturing districts is shown by the cotton mills, which report rather more activ- continue to do an active business. The movement in gen- this season for several years, and the decline ‘in prices, ac- cording to Dun’s index number, on which the cost offiving is based, is slightly over 3 per cent compared with 1902, and the decline from May 1, 1902, which was the highest point touched in recent years, is now about 5 per cent. The index number of commodity prices Octoper 1 was $07.37, against $08.54 September 1. The chief decline has been in breadstuffs and meats, the latter having declined about 14 per cent during the past year. 5 It will be remembered that a year or so ago, when the so-called “beef barons” marked up quotations for meats with no apparent compunction and the people and press all over the country were indignantly protesting against the summary proceeding, that the prediction was freely made that the days of moderate-priced meats had forever passed and that in the near future beef would be to the workix‘:gman of America as it is to the average European —beyond the reach of his purse and eaten only on Sundays and holidays as a treat. But it seems that Providence is ordaining otherwise and that fr present indications the American wage earner will still be 2 beef eater for a good many years to-come. For which may we be truly thankful. As for cured meats, such as the products of the hog, the Western packing markets are dragging and for some months prices have been held up by main strength alone, while the general expectation is that the markets must fall to a still lower level. Briefly, the cost of living is de- creasing and has been for months, though the decline is so gradual that it is noticeable only to those few commercial statisticians who keep close track of prices. To the general public it is imperceptible, though it is going on silently all the time, like the noiseless formation of frosting on the window panes during the cold nights of winter. So much for generat trade. As for finance, the conditions have been further unsettled of late by the suspension of a couple of trust companies in Baltimore, a bank at Pitts- burg and rumors of impending trouble in St. Louis, though the latter were not realized. All this tended to still further demoralize Wall street and led to further liquidation. Money, however, was not materially affected, and rates showed no change worthy of note. It is gratifying to ob- serve that thus far this fall the stringency in funds expected to accompany the regular autumnal movement of the crops has not materialized, and when we recall the sweat we were in last spring over what was going to happen in this direc- tion during the fall we cannot but remember that fine old remark about drossing a bridge before we get to it. It may be that funds may yet be tight, but they are not thus far, and it may turn out that we did a good deal of worrying over nothing after all. { The usual figures are running rather against 1903. The weekly bank clearings showed a loss of 20.2 per cent last week as compared with the corresponding week last year, while the failures were 279, against 239, and ipcluded several large ones, as mentioned above. The leading local feature last week was the bankers’ con- vention of course.; It was noticeable that the whole trend of expression among the bankers during the meeting was toward thorough confidence in the sound prosperity of the country, a general belief that it would continue and that the present lull in business was simply the natural recession from | a period of over-expansion in speculation and exploiting of | vast syndicates. If there was any apprehension or pessimism | among the bankers they certainly did not show it and all addresses expressed surprise and admiration over the solid | commercial basis of the country. The isthmian canal is to share discussion with the pro- posed commercial treaty betwcen the United States and Cuba during the extra session of Congress. We may be | assured therefore that the legislative reputations that are | not lost in _one debate will be hopelessl‘y damaged in the £th:r. b A WHIRLWIND FINISH. bt - OR some time past the leaders in the Lane camp have F been trying to keep up the courage of their followers by assuring them that however far Lane might be behind not enly Crocker but Schmitz in the early part of the campaign he wouid make it up in the closing week. Over and over again the word has been sent down the line during the past ten days, “Lane is a boss campaigner; watch him on the homestretch; he will make a whirlwind finish.” The last week of the campaign has opened and the whirl- wind is now due. It is quite probable that extreme efforts will be made by the Lane men for the next two or three days. Every Republican whom Mr. Lane counts among his close personal friends and who by reason of that friendship gives him support in this contest will be quoted as a prooi that Republicans are breaking away from Crocker. A good deal of that kind of work has been done already and doubt- less we shall have more of it. It is to be noted, however, that despite all the columns of display given to these so- called proofs of Republican defection they do not amount to as many as half a dozen when they are ¢ % Of course no objection is to be made to ta of that kind when properly used, but it is very easy to misuse them, and consequently the public might just as well be on guard for the rest of the campaign against canards and roorbacks. When politicians set making a whirlwind finish there is no telling to what tactics they. will resort in their efforts to raise a wind and make it whirl. o As the campaign presents itself there is nothing that gives any slightest reason for changing the opinion formed at the | starf that the real contest is between Crocker and Schmitz. Lane cannot draw any considerable number of Union Labor men from Schmitz, but Crocker can and has. That fact has been shown by the organization of a Henry J. Crocker Workingmen's League with a membership running up into ity, and by the footwear factories of New England, which\ 1 eral merchandise throughout the country is less than atj} the thousands. Lane cannot draw from Republican ranks any support save that of a few personal friends, but Crocker can and has ol ed from the ranks of conservative [Lemo:- racy hundreds of ysupporters who come to him because they recognize that in this contest he stands for the best inter- ests of all classes of people and gives clear assurance of a good administration carried out from first to last on busi- ness lines. . | Up to this time the most notable feature of the campaign | has been the magnificent canvass of Mr. Crocker. Lane is one of the brightest and brainiest campaigners of the time. His friends justly counted a great deal upon his capacity in that respect to overcome the heavy odds against him, but they did not foresee that he would be met by a man who, without any of the arts of rhetoric, would prove more than | his match. |That, however, is what has happened. Mr. Crocker has met Lane upon his own ground and beaten him. As matters stand now the chances are)that the whirlwind finish will be made by Crocker and that independent voters will gather round him and help to make his victory a sweep- ing one for the whole ticket. | T 7 S T Portland has a healthy sensation in the fact that a suit has been instituted to force some of the city’s prominent club- men to pay for the whisky which they have imbibed in good | fellowship at the club bars. Slowly but surely the iconoclast \ | i is tearing down the last cherished privileges of bohemianism. | If this sort of thing contintes we won't have left a single fashionable dead beat to exhibit even as a freak. | S H DOWIE’S CRUSADE. i ‘ the plans and methods of Dr. John Alexander | Dowie, the reincarnated Elijah. He began his work | as a divine healer in this State, but as it did not go to suit him he left, us. He has not forgotten us, however, for he announces that after he has clarified New York he will come and found Zion in the midst of us. That his plans deserve our attention is demonstrated by his remarkable success in Chicago. He has gathered within his fold several thousand people and has had the art to accumulate in cash gifts from the well-to-do in his flock or under his influence a fortune of several millions of dollars. His Zion City, near Chicago, has a large population and he | has founded there lacemaking and other industries of con- siderable magnitude and commercial importance. His vast wealth is shown in his ability to hire special trains with am- ple accommodations to transport three thousand of his peo- | ple to New York City and there hire for a month or more Madison-square Garden as a meeting place for his “clari- fiers.” His influence with his followers is absolute. They think | they believe that he is the prophet Elijah and obey his bid- ding without question. His career has not been without scandals, entirely of a financial nature, however. l'!is own rel- | atives have sued him to recover large sums of money given into his keeping, but have not succeeded in getting it back, | for he seems to be as keen in the law as he is in business. | The medical profession has procured his arrest and prosecu- | tion for pretending to cure disease by laying on of hands and incantation, but none of these suits succeeded in sup- i pressing him. The preachers have preached against him and‘l the mob has hooted and pelted him, but every attack upon,| ALIFORNIA has a more than passing interest in him of whatever nature has seemed only to make him stronger and increase his following. A large nugber of orthodox clergymen of many denomi- nations have resigned their pastorates to join him and enter his missionary corps. A few years ago, having conspic- | uously failed to heal the sick in cases brought to him, he | declared that they could not be divinely healed because they | had some time eaten pork. Thereupon he started a crusade | against swine, and his missionaries went into the hog and | corn country and actually influenced many farmers to kill | all their hogs and destroy them by fire as a burnt offering. | This movement reached such proportions that it alarmed the | great pork packers of Chicago, who feared that the supply | would be cut off, and they took steps to send out counter missionaries to offset Dowie's work. In person he is a man of large frame, with a large hea and not very refined features or manners. In speech he is| coarse and unimaginative. His discourse is not symmetrical { and has none of the graces of oratory. It consists in putting forward the most preposterous claims for himself, his super- | natural power, his insight into_the unseen and his ability to.| work wonders. While his followers seem to be satisfiedl whether they see the promised wonders or not, the doubting I world outside is compelled to admit that his wonders worked upon material things are actval. Both the spiritual and | non-spiritual obdervers af his carcer find it difficult to ac count for his power over his followers, who resign them- | selves and their property to him in blind and unquestioning obedience. It may be said for him that his coarseness of speech does not\make_ against him, for many of the prbphcts | of the Old Testament were equally coarse and as brutally | direct. But they also had the imaginative, the poetic, vein | in which he seems entirely lacking. Considered as a religious movement his cult is surely a | curiosity. It has attracted to him people from every church, just why only they dan tell. His career seems to again em- phasize the fact that any bold man who will set up a novelty | that is framed in the mystic and supernatural will get fol- | lowers. The human tendency to pry into the unknown and | unknowable and to see through the eyes of another the mys- terious things not visible to the natural eye must be ac- | cepted as accounting for the great following of such a man. | It is probable too that his keen attention to the material in- terests of his followers has something to do with his suc- | cess. Like the Mormon church he sees to it that his people | have work and that they are so directed that they are sure | of the comforts of life. Early in his New York crusade he is attacked by Rev. Dr. Parkhurst. But that is what Dowie warits, He thrives on attacks, and his policy has always been to provoke them. No matter what he does in New York he will tell*his people that he has succeeded, they will believe him and his special trains will carry them to Chicago flushed with victory. Then we are to expect him here. He will move on California with thousands of his followers to settle them ip a new_ Zion here. This assault on Satan in our State will be awaited withhm.mby,s‘tq. certainly by our people. A anild-manered, subtly persuading rascd] was arvested - for filched thousands upon thousands of dollars from a gullible public, which had easily and cagerly been baited by wild-cat mining shares. The lesson of this operator’s man ions is obvious. The stupid gulls, who 15 their clouded wits with those of one clev- assume Bill Devery has turned a Z:m shoulder and a, deaf ear to his friend Samuel Parks of shameful memory and says that the fellow must shift for himsell. When any man's work becomies too coarse for a Devery it is high time for mt’ people to take to the tall trees. ¥ . % | carts and the milk wagons begin to rum- | ble through the streets, a motley crowd | dimly lighted room. | or where she lives. When once her order | low than does Danny’s chin on a bar-rail { dark hours of the morning. | through, he drops into one of “the poor W“’Wt&\fitohx-‘ GLEANINGS FROM CITY —% AND GEMS IN A NEW SETTING . The Wise Cops Who Kept Quarantine Despite the Fog HERE was oné story the re- “ porters didn't get,” sald the big policeman to the new man cn the beat. “It was when I was doing quarantine duty in Chinatown. My partner and myself were detalled to watch a room in which three Chinese were confined by the Board of Health. All the entranges to thé room had been sealed by the doctors except tae skylight, and we watched the Chinks through that. “It was twelve-hour watches then, and the time went slowly. In order to help things along, we fell into the habit of taking a bottle of germ exterminator up on the roof with us. One night the fol; came in and we drank up all the exter- minator before midnight. [ volunteered | to go after some more. When I returned | my partner was fast asleep, and by the light of a coal ofl lamp in the room be- low I could see that there were only two Chinks in the raom. I woke him up and | told him that our jobs were things of the | past. His gray matter commenced work- ing overtime instantly. Finally he evolved a saving plan, and we followed it. “We battened down the skylight and | went out into the byways of Chinatown. We waited until we found a Chinaman | who generally resembled our escape and | we shanghaied him. Of course, he sirug- | gled, but we carried him tg the roof and | shot him through the skylfght. Then we resumed our occupation of beating off the fog with our germ exterminator. A Board of Health inspector came along and peered through the skylight. ‘One of them seems to have gone insane,’ he | sald. The captured Chink was making noises as though he had swallowed a crockery store and it had begun to break up inside of him. “‘That's due to long confinement,” I said. We kept the poor Chink seventeen days, and he gradually recovered from his insanity.” A Jester’s Rough Hand Strikes the Deep Minor Chord flWAY down on Montgomery street, behind the Hall of Justice, there is a little restaurant which keeps its doors open all night. Along in the gray hours of the morning, when the vegetable of night owls drift in there to get their warming cup of coffee and a “snake.” Every morning about 1 o'clock woman, who sits down to her rolls and steaming coffee apart in one corner of the She is tall, gaunt, shaky in her step and has a habit of sit- ting with her lean arms tightly folded about her as Jf to insure against her be- draggled clothing falling away from her | scrawny form. No one knows who she is | is set before her she begins to nod. First she will make an endeavor to shake off sleep by a pretense of reading the coffee- | stained paper. Ostentatiously - she will turn the pages and pretend to scan the columns, but inevitably the crazy 6ld bon- | net will drop lower and lower until with a quick jerk it is barely saved from dip- ping in the coffee. A few mornings ago a greasy meat wagon driver, who happened to be in the restaurant for the first time, evidently, took a keen delight in watching that old bonnet dip and waver. At last, when the dingy feather trailed into the egg ome- lette on the bare table he burst into a roar of laughter. *‘Hi, old lady, take a brace!” he bawled, slapping his table with his fist. Instantly the bonnet righted itself and the queer shambiing figure raised itself with an air of rare dignity. The seamed old face was turned toward the butcher. Not a shadow of a scowl crossed the wan features as the old lady spoke. “Young man,” she sald, “‘when you have known sorrow you will not laugh.” Then the old lady went out into the gray morning. j Danny, Human Bat, Finds Hanging by the Chin a Luxury 0 head through which raced the phantom shapes of happy dreams ever rested easier on silken pil- N when drowsiness seizes him—and that is often. Danny—sometimes called the “hu- man bat’'—is a remarkablq man, from the standpoint of his ability to sleep with comfort in positiors that would fracture the neck of Atlas in marble. Danny Is seen to best advantage in the | His work men's clubs” that line his route to en- Joy a nightcap—of “steam.” Perhaps drowsiness will come upon him and then his accomplishment will evidence itseif. Hooking his chin over the bar- rail and slippirg his hands comfortably into his coat pockets, he permits his knees to bend under him until, with heaa bent back at a startling angle, his weight rests heavily on his chin. Then he sius bers and the hours glide away, his snor- ing uninterrupted by the klinking of glasses and the wild songs of roisterers. ‘Waking refreshed a few mornings ago from hig bat-like sleep, Danny addressed the curious witnesses of his sleeping stunt. He said; “My mudder tought about a year ago dat 1 was soon to cash in, so she got in- surance on me life for a thou. So long as a' git all dis sleep I'm all right, ail right, an’ now my mudder’s sore on pay- in’ de premium on me life any longer. Well, T guess dat won't make me die. ‘Nudder steam, barkeep.” Bugs. They've found the bug bug Eites the bug: es . stabs the bug A l § t jabs us; S 2 ve secn hates the biffs the . t nabe us. i ‘ve struck the Ther've_spruck \ flayx bug it st %.. 5 fix e In of Combat es; And still these germs— Described in terms Get at ust ~Lira. \Lean cow kilt fer de bar! Georgy' e — Answers of Oracle To the Questions From the Curious IL ON TROUBLED WATERS O Subscriber, City. The origin of phrase, “Pouring oil on troub waters,” is lost in antiquity, bu: it is not a Biblical phrase. The no tion that oil will smooth treuble water is very old indeed. The Syria fishermen have been wont for tim out+«of mind to pour oil on the sea when caught = a storm far from land. Th boatmen of the Persian Gulf have alwa béen in the habit of towing astern their frail craft bladders filled with oil, these bladders pricked so as to permit a gentls leakage of the oil in the wake of their boats. In book 3, chapter XV in “The Miracles of Bishop Aidan,” Bedes' Eccle- siastical History, is given what is sald to be the earliest account of the use of oil to auell troubled waters. “I know,” said Bishop Aldan as he gave to a priest named Ulla some holy oil, “that soon after you shall’embark you will meet with a storm and a contrary wind. but then remember to cast this ofl which I now give you into the sea, and imme- diately the storm shall cease and you shall have pleasant, calm weather and return home in safety.” It was a witty Irish sal'or who said of oil on the water | that “it makes the waves so slippery that the wind can’t get hold of them.” CIRCULAR TANK—M. E., Colma, Cal To ascertain the holding capacity of a circular tank multiply the square of the diameter by .7854 or the square of the circumference by .07%8 in order to find the area of the tank. Then multiply the area by the depth in inches and divide the product by 231. The quotient wil equal the number of gallons the tank wi hold. ICE CHEST—A Subscriber, City. An ice chest is usually kept on the porch of a fashionable residence in proximit to the kitchen. If the owner of a fash fonable house desires to keep an ige chest in his dining-room there is no law to prevent him from so doing. It is a mat ter of taste, and there Is me accounting for taste. MISSION PARLOR HALIL—Subscriber, City. The Hall on Seventeenth street, west of Valenela, S8an Franeisco, which was built for Mission Parlor of the Na- tive Sons of the Golden West, and which for years was known as Mission Parlor Hall, was dedicated on April 15, 1503 RING ETIQUETTE—Rachel, City. For a lady to wear a ring on a gloved finger no matter how beautiful the workma: |or valuable the gems, is a violation of | etiquette there | | comes into the little shop a slattern old | TOWNSEND—W. B, City. If the art cle written by Edward W. Townsend re- ferred to in letter of inquiry is not suffi- clently clear to you, why not address him direct? MAST AND CANVAS-—-Water Front, City. Tall masts of sailing vessels range from 160 to 180 feet. Such carry from 60,000 to 100,000 square feet of canvas. | Sparklets Struck Glowing Off Anvil of Fun Makers “My idea of a wise man, sald the youth who though he knew things, “is one who knows when to stop talking.” “A man who possesses the genuine brand of wisdom,” rejoined the venerable philosopher, “knows when not to begin.” —Chicago News. A Georgia Refrain. Alligator steak en catfish stew, Big yam taters, en mountain dew, High ole times in * in de crib, en cotton in de gein, in yo' pocket ‘twel he shine like sin: *y cullud nigger with a 'possum-grin— High ole times in Georgy! No-use sighin’, w'en de jug ter fill, No use cryin' wen de milk done Keep on a-hopin’ dat de cow’Il st High ole times in Georgy! —Atlanta Constitution Absent Minded. “I really feel worried about my hus- band, he is getting to be so absent mind- ed,” said a young wife to her dearest girl friend. “Tell me about it, friend sympathetically. “Well, he came home from business very late the other evening, and I heard him talking in the hall.” “To himself?" asked the friend, pictously. “No, indeed." “Not the—cook?" “I should say not. What an idea! No; when I weént down I found him with a feather duster in his hands, and, would you belleve it, the poor fellow was trying to make {t say, ‘Polly want a biscuit.’ "'— Cardiff T Mother’s Way. ‘When [ was young, 1 recolleet, My mother had a way Ut droppin’ all my nicknames whem “ 1 chanced to disobey, Or when I tried to shirk my work, By arguments or games, I ‘member how she’'d change my mind By simply saying “James!" I ‘member how I ust to kick m mother wanted How if she called mg. To_whine, I food. hat shed But how I shot out o 4 the flames o Mmh.'" paused and turned around And quietly said “James: When v Tt's thirty years or thereabouts Since she cailed “James™ to me, But thirty years ain’t long enough To kill that memory. To-day that werd from mother’s lipe “Ud be the king of names— T'd give the w Old mother call me In Wrong. It is not unusual in life to see an awk- ward fellow making a false step. He at- empts to recover himself and makes an- other; the second is followed by a thiyd. and down he comes. Here Is an illustra- tion of what we mean: A gentleman once said to Lopd North, “Pray, my Lor’ who is that extremely agly woman smit: - over there?” “That's my youngest sister #aid his Lordship. “Good gracious,” sa!! the gentleman, “T don’t mean her, [ meo! the next.” “That's my eldest sister,” - still— dear,” said the sus- m'” ‘twas safe plied the nobleman. “I protest,” cried the unhappy n, “I dom't m her, but the third." “That is my | said Lord North. “The devil™ ejac the poor fellow. “You may as well = that,” sald Lord North, ‘“for she is a9 ugly as dme. But console yoursell, my dear sir, we are the ugliest family in England."—~Golden Penny. “What would become of you lost me?” *1 should go crazy, dear.” “Would you marry again?" “Oh, no! I shouldn't be so crasy as thet."—Fliengende Blaetter. ou, hubby, It x . L]