The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 8, 1903, Page 11

) /7 Q \.;:.,Q’n v 5) 0 5 WT-OWy OF A ATTPTY- 5—4 F Picty did not pay some preachers would have to work for a living. - When we open the door to Gratitude we usher out Love. P Many women are good because they are so unattractive that it were Rross flattery to supposs them otherwise, I A man often loves his newspaper bet. than he does his wife—at the break- table. .. = Platonic love is but friendship in dis- because it lacks the magnetism in a ment forgets all barriers feaves Love conscious of Love sim e A man’s most intimate friend needs 1ages to 's most ischief il stove in a kitchen over a stable ed more than one case of mal THE SUNDAY CALL. Women are poor gamblers in the game of Love—they ate such heavy losers. * * * Cupid is the hangman who adjusts the noose of matrimony. R Women often think they are in love when they are only hysterical. * k% There is an immense difference be- tween being loved and being useful. A If a man sins against a woman, she forgives. If a woman sins—he don't. * % ek A sweetheart wears a dress suit and his fin de siecle manners—a husband s a smoking jacket and takes medi- tative pulls on a briar pipe. AR S - Love is a banker who indorses the notes of courtship and pays the heavier draughts of matrimony. FABLES FOR THE FOOLISH 4 s HAT is love and why? This is a question that has occupied the mightiest minds of all ages, from the immortal William illa Wheeler Wilcox. Is it chemical, physiological, psychological, or merely hysterical? The man who can an- swer these questions correctly is assured a full-sized niche in the Hall of Fame all to himself and a life position on the editorial staff of the Ladies’ Own Journal. He would be able to clear up some of the most - vexatious problems that have puzzled the human mind from the days of the original roasting down to the present time. For example, he could do a genuine rvice to each and every woman by informing her what the men she knows could see to admire in the women they married. The settling of this point alone would be a boon to suffering humanity. If, as some assert, the problem is bacteriological, he might be able to isolate the microccus cupidensis and thus make possible the inoculation of prospective husbands or wives. Having done this, he might proceed to dis- cover the serum for the cure of the ailment and thus make his everlasting for- tune out of the people who prefer to remain in the condition known as sin- gle blessedness—among those who have passed out of it. Having thus pried apart the general proposition and propped it open with a lead pencil, we may pass on to a consideration of the specific cases of two fond young lovers and the manner of their respective assaults upon the fair citadel of their lady love’s cardiac apparatus. For the sake of conve- nience we will call the fond lovers in question Awthuw and Henry. We will also call them so because that was what they ewere named, but we can’t help that. Awthuw had a great deal of sen- timent and soul and hair—usually uncombed; that is, the hair; the soul was not only combed frequently; but harrowed as well. He had large ten- der blue eyes that looked as though they had been left in the wash too long after the bluing was put in. Also, he had the bold, self-assertive manner of an alien canine whose tail has been intercepted by an absent-minded de- livery wagon. But what he lacked in the qualities requisite for the pursuit of the strenuous life he made up in soul. On the other hand. Henry—and Henry was very much on the other hand—was a modest, undeveloped youth about six feet in a vertical and three feet in 2 horizontal direction. His features had the soft hue of freshly pickled sole leather and his voice was as gentle as the cooing of a foghorn. During + business hours he was bouncer in ordinary to one of the principal represen- tatives of Providence in the railroad business and was in line to be made an assistant representative as soon as he had mastered the creed. Such were the men who aspired to the hand and heart of the haughty Arabella. Arabella herself doesn't need to be described. Just imagine a girl who looks the way that name sounds and you'l] have a-fairly accurate tin- type of Arabella. Besides. she has only a thinking part. - All that a woman has to do in such a case is to shut her cyes and say eny-meny-miny-mo and then take the other fellow iust for spite. * Awthuw had the old idea that when a man had arrived at a general an- proval of some more or less fair one the next move was to prop her up on a pedestal and burn incense at her feet. In the absence of incense use catnip To speak to her was a holy rite—thus Awthuw could speak aud write at tie same time—and his highest privilege was to knock togetiier “a little sonnct for her in which he made love rhyme with dove and sun with won, and per- formed various and sundry other unique poetic stunts. Henry was different. oh. so different. He never *wrote poetry and never read any when he could get away. He wasn’t familiar with the bill of fare on high Olympus, but he knew all about the menu at the still higher Walledoff Castoria and he could order a dinner that was calculated to make old Epicurus sorry he was dead. When he approached Arabella he didn’t burn much incense, but he knew how to burn the long green so as to get the most smoke. Pegasus, as we have remarked a few inches above. was a horse on him, but he had a naughtymobile that could make the telephone poles look like a picket fence when the going was easy. All these wonders—ave. and many more—did he show to Arabella, and she warmed to him after the manner of a poor but ambitious young man to a rich aunt with weak lungs. We might go on indefinitely in this way, such are the capacities of the mother tongue, but the end would be ‘the same. Furthermore, fear of the Society for the Prevention of Crueity to Cheerful Readers bids us pause. Awthuw threw himself at the fect of Arabella and in trembling accents besought her to chaperone his soul adown an ~eternity of bliss. Henry, still on the other hand, told her to jump into his naughymo- bile and hike around to the varson’s with him. It didn’t take the wise Arabella more than seven-sixteenths of a second to conhclude that while soul was very well in its way. she wasn't sure that she liked the looks of the wav. So it was Arabella to the parson’s in the homicide wagon. Awthuw's soul is still unchaperoned. A woman who stoops to marry finds it hard work to straighten up again. . - - The happiest days of a woman's life are the days of her courtshio. Poor thing! It's a blessing that she finds some comfort in the memory. . - - When a girl is in love she thinks she is the happiest girl on earth. Pity she hasn’t sense enough to stay so: but some people never know when they are well off. * s s - . " When a man is farced to tighten his purse-strings his wife may need watch- ing. [ S a8 Many women who love do not know how to show it. * - - To win a man’s love keep him guess- ing, and when you have secured it let him keep on guessing. e No man is sane in the rigor mortis of an infatuation. * - A stage woman is not always as bad as she is painted. * * I prefer a good old-fashioned sinner to one who is so good as to be good- for-nothing. o Some people know so-little that they do not know how little they do know. e I always feel sorry for the heathen when I look at the missionary. T Life is too short to waste time on fools and paupers. * - When we confer favors gratuitously we demoralize the recipient. THIZ7ONV MdARR If reformers who mean business would attack yachts and millionaires they might find lots of family skeletons and bunches of trouble. « = @ To mind one’s own business is a greater virtue than charity. - - - A woman who advertises herself as clever is a safe one to avoid ke People who are always advising you are often only meddlesome and disagreeable. " - S I have no confidence in people who are always saying someth mean and nasty from a “sense of dut . *_ 8 You might reform a hardened old reprobate, but a fool or a saint is a hopeless proposition. e Bat Love, to be enjoyable, needs plen of time and leisure (and money, of course). Ki® I hat!a fool. You never can tell what he will do next. C it Every horse that neighs is not a thor- oughbred. . An ass may bray very loudly, but he'll never win a horserace. o« No man can make love with a ner- vous welsh rabbit kicking against his diaphragm. & e A rolling stone may gather up your pet corn if )ou’do :h:)( ‘vumn in time. Many a girl fails to realize that her mother is her best friend until after she has tasted the cup that neither cheers nor inebriates—the cup of sorrow. | THE BAD MAN | By Billy Burgundy (Copyright, 1903, bv Steve Floyd, N. Y.) —2—4 NCE upon a time there lived in the town of Fairstake, Ari- N zona, a guy who possessed a combustible disposition, an ingrowing affecticn for booze and a perfect contempt for municipal tranquillity and the criminal code. His name was Hank Barlow. Hank put in most of his time absorbing firewater and supplying the town with a brand of excitement which kept the Coroner working overtime and made the local “Death Column” look like an itemized account of a Macedonian massacre. When Hank had practically exhausted the supply voters in Fairstake the Governor came to the conclusion that he was carr. the joke too far, so he offered a reward of five thousand good and lawful simoleons for one Hank Barlow, on hoof or dressed, f. o. b. Fairstake. No one seemed to be in pressing need of that amount of money; at least they showed no signs of it if they did, so Hank pursued the even tenor of his way. ; ; One morning when the villagers backed up against the east side of the General Store to thaw out in the young sunshine and’ talk over the latest news from Washington and the Chicago Stock Yards, it was discovered that Hank had been shy for six days. Then like a flash it dawned upon the m: m- bers of the Out Door Session that there had not been a murder in town for nigh on to a week. All of which went to prove that something powerful was ailing’ Hank. s After debating the question at great length it was resolved that: “Whereas, It has come to be known to the citizens of the town of Fair- stake, in the County of Yuma, in the Territory of Arizona, that their hon- ored and esteemed fellow-citizen, Hankodorous Barlow, has not appeared upon the streets and thoroughfares of the said metropolis for a period of six days; and “Whereas, It is known to the said citizens of the said town of Fairstake, in the said County of Yuma, in the said Territory of Arizona, that it the custom, habit or practice of the said honored and esteemed Ha - ous Hank to absent himseli irom the said streets and thoroughfares of said metropolis for such an extended period; and “Whereas, It is a matter of official record that there has not been a single death, by violence, in the said town of Fairstake during the week end- ing Satyrday, October tie thirty-first; and “Whereas, ‘t is the beliei of each and every citizen of the said town of Fairstake that some great misfortune has befallen the said honored and es- teemed Hankodorous Barlow: now, therefore, be it “Resolved, That a committee of three law-abiding citizens, consisting of Parson Hiram Merriwell, Deacon Calvin Pennybaker and Doc Jorgan shall proceed in the most orderly and friendly manner to the house of the said honored and esteemed Hankodorous Barlow and ascertain by the moss gentle and polite interrogating the true cause cf the city’s sad bereavement and report the sarhe to the citizens in waiting.” Vested with the aforementioned paragraphs of official authority and an elegant sufficiency of Buck-ague, the committee humbly approached the house of the honored and esteemed citizen. Hank was found seated upon the back steps with his face between his hands and a sad. far-away expression in his eyes. He was a changed man. 3 ! After an exchange of hellos, Parson Merriwell gently placed his hand upon the shoulder of the honored and esteemed citizen and said: “Brether Hank, we has riz to the conclusion that somethin’ mighty onusual has over- come ye, an’ we air here to ascertain how come ye air no longer your fo-- mer self. Air ye sore?” “’Taint thet I'se got any grudge agin the gang, Parson. I'se married thet little ningty-pound gal ye see peeling potatoes, an’ ef I lef’ dis yere ya=d for anything more excitin’ than a cousle of pork chops she’d blow my ligrts out. Thet's all thet ails me.” 3 Moral: You can’t estimate a woman's influence by her weight. 11