The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 11, 1904, Page 23

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1904. 5 A% MR. DOOLEY O S - REGARDS BANTING WITH DISFAVOR WRITTEN -TOR THLE CAELl. BY. T P says that all ample ladies thin but th’ ladies was chubby. wants to rest his head on a won’t hurt they quarreled. Th’ lady that pote Danty made a fool iv was no skiliton. an’ sivral chins. Queen iv Scots that I have had her dhress made be chokin’ her. to emaciate ye'ersilf ney th’ other day. It was th’ a | th to look like walk at a gallop to-day, Dooley. “She’s thryin’ to ray. said Mr. ke good 1" good woman goin’ by | ” said pleasantly | ke on four pounds he rented a horse an’ k ridin’”. ey did, an’ in th’ hospital ' he lost tw " said his job d to cut out th’ ar. akfast wan 1 Natt d to Carney in matter i tell ye n' th’ soon T supper whin his wife h: fain le b took a small wom- tl hundhred an’ 1 love with not to say fat but Th’ potes thimsilves was he has wurruked all day at th’ typewriter Shakespeare’s wife was thin an’ All th' pitchers iv beau- tiful women I've iver see had manny curves | Th’ phottygraft iv Mary shows that she took on weight afther she Th’ collar looks to “But nowadays ’tis th’ fashion to thry I et supper with Car- | | that Carney shud grow fat, but Carney has Il iv his own an’ f'r tin years he’s been ) itor Fairbanks whin his thrue model was Grover Cleveland. He | used to scald himsilf ivry mornin’ with a quart of hot wather on gettin’ up. did him no good. Thin he thried takin’ long Th' long walk rayjooced him half d and gave him a thirst that made iv_ boodweiser. Th’ horse liked 1 Carney gained f'r bein’ cross to th’ b raysumed his reg’lar meals an’ what he consumed. room is close. ad tottered in it pill “'Tis what I take in place iv DUNNL. - Copyright, 1904, by McClure, Phillips & Co. smoked a |« + | 'twas gloryous. ‘Jawn, ye'er health. Pass th’ potes he th’ beefsteak, Malachi. Schwartzmeister, MR. DOOLEY CALLS ATTENTION | |[or ses. cn rncp ve to e sare A pote whin shoulder that th’ Eyetalian himsilf about in me .room will iv_hiven That | thried horse- his weight no | dress made. He | o pounds an’ Thin he | made up his I see him at thried >SS, he. ‘Cow’rd. says I. ire had been I s too v 3 Fletching. Did ye iver ted, an’ whin wud be safe ttle fr'm his ‘What's some to look at. was no ski vton. rayjooces th’ weight, says he. | against that breakfast?’ says L. “Th’ latest thing that Carney has took | up to make th’ fight again’ Nature is called | they'se a lad be th’ name iv Fletcher who | thinks so much iv his stomach that he won’t use it an’ he tells Carney that if he’ll ate | wan or two mouthfuls at ivry meal| an’ thurly chew thim, he will ivinchooly be no more thin skin an’ bones an’ very hnnd—‘ ney's eye that he didn’t like th® explanation, In four weeks a man who ' but ‘An’ ar-re | frinds. ‘I am,” says | iv ye. tucked our n; hear iv it? Well, ney. TO THE "AMPLE” LADIES OF HISTORY. «« 7 H' dee iv female beauty ihat all ér-reat men /r’m Juiius Caesar to meself has held is mwch more like a bar’l thin a cothes pole. tells me thai Alexander’s wife an’ Caesar’s missus was no light weights; Martha Wash’nton was short but pleasantly dumpy an’ Andhrew Jackson’s dood woman weighed two hundherd an’ smoked a pipe. | | Hogdan says all the po‘rs he knows was in love with not to say fat but amp'e ladies. was thin but th’ ladies was ehubby has wurruked all day at th’ typewr.ter wants to rest his head on « shoulder that won’t hurt. Shakespeare’s wife was thin an’ they quarreled. | | Eyetalian pote Danty made a fool iv h:msi'f about All th’ pitchers iv beauwtifu’ women L’ve iver s:e had manny curves an’ sivra' chins. photygraft iv Mary Queen iv Scots that 1 have in me room shows that she took on weisht afther she had her 1R’ collar looks to be chokin’ her.”” | +—_——.——_——fi—_——* Th’ potes thimsilves A pote whin he Th’ lady that th’ | sugar,’ says he. ‘Sugar is fattenin’ an !h|<¥ Fletches will lose forty pounds, an’ all his Th' idee is that ye mumble ye'er ye goin’ to match that poor little tablet I food fr tin minyits with a watch in front | This night Carney was Fletching. } It was a fine supper. Th’ table groaned be- neath all th' indilicacies iv th’ season. prepared f'r a jaynial avenin’. He laid his goold watch on th’ table, took a mouthful iv mutton pie an’ begun to X.Imch: At first angan thought he was | poly. a little roly-poly ye'll be. They ain’t makin’ faces at him, but I explained that annything to do that ye ought to do that'll he was crazy. I see by th’ look in Car- | make ye thin an’ keep ye thin. Th’ wan we wint, on with kins undher our chins an’ wint over th’ fence last? What’s that story? Tell it over here where Carney. can’t hear. It might make him laugh an’ hurt him with his frind Fletcher. No? What? Ye don’t say? An’ didn’t Carney resist it? Haw, haw, haw! This eyesther sauce is th’ best I iver see. Michael, this is like ol’ times. Look at Schwartzmeister. He’s Fletching, too. No, be gorry, he’s chokin’. I think Carney’s watch has stop- ped. No wondher; he’s lookin’ at it. Haw, haw, haw, haw, haw. A good joke on Car ney. Did ye iver see such a face? Car ney, me buck, ye look like a kinetoscope. What is a face without a stomach? Car- ney, ye make me nervous. If that there idol don’t stop f'r a minyit I'll throw some- thing at it. Carney, time’s up. Ye ye'er bet, but foolish wan. I thought ye were goin’ to push Fletcher in a wheelbarrow.” Hogan win ‘twas a “I've known Jawn Carney, man and boy, fr forty year, but I niver knew ontil that minyit that he was a murdherer at heart. | Th’ look he give us whin he snapped his watch was tur-rble; but th’ look he give th’ dinner was aven worse. He set there f'r two mortal hours miditatin’ what form th’ assassynations wud take an’ Fletchin’ each wan iv us in his mind. I walked home with him to see that he came to no harm. Near th’ house he wint into a baker’s shop an’ bought four pies an’ a bag iv doughnuts. ‘I've promised to take thim home to me wife,” he says. ‘I thought she was out iv | town,” says I. ‘She’ll be back in a week,’ says he; ‘an’ annyhow, Misther Dooley, I'll thank ye not to be pryin’ into me domestic affairs,” he says. “An’ there ye ar-re. What's th’ use iv goin’ up again’ th’ laws iv Nature, says I. If Nature intinded ye to be a little roly- T We | Not so, Car- thing in th’ wurruld that'l rayjooce ye th’ supper. Well, | surely is lack iv sleep, an’ who wants to Wite MNotives =2 =2 £ 2 & W ritten for THE CALL by the Salvation Army Leader on the Eve of His Departure for London. Copyright, 1904,:by The San Francisco Call. IGHT and Might may be said to be the two forces of the Under proper conditions Might should be directed by Right, and Right should be enforced by Might. That is an ideal at which all good laws seek to aim. Right is Might the ruling world the rudder, steam. The proper combination of the two constitutes an irresistible force. Against the hosts of Right are ar- rayed those of Wrong. Between the :\t:n a ceaseless and irreconcilable war is being waged. Those principles are eternal and unalterable. Reason ex- Conscience warns, God veals, but even the Chief Executive of Universe can only declare, re- ward or punish—he cannot, does not, change their character. They are his own divine rule of action. But tween R a more per Right pl re- P and Wrong, there is also conflict between ht, and it becomes subordinate the inferior the superior, and to protect the weaker against the stronger, securing to each right a maxim of liberty with 2 minimum of interference. Fvery individual n a city has the t to walk the same spot in 2 the same minute in the ay. Physically this is an impossi- lity, especially where that spot has ed by cars, motors, wagons, ians and pedestrians. The right f each has to be subordinated to that In extreme cases it may sus- necessary t ov the rest en for a time be altogether nded The regulation of conflicting rights and the protection of right from vrong becomes ultimately the sub- ect of legal enactments, law being professedly the dectaration of the sreat fundamental principles of right and wrong The conflict of right with wrong, or of right with right, may take place in the varied realms of home, busi- mess, village, city. state, mation or only is there a conflict be- | i Self. { humanity. The regulation of the re- | lationships of man with man is per- haps the most vitally important ques- tion that can engage our attention next to the relationship of man with God. Ultimately it will be found on ex amination that the rule of Right re-| solves itself into the rute of Benevo- | | lence, while the ultimate analysis of all forms of Wrong will be found to be pure, undiluted Selfishness. The greatest moral teacher the | world has ever seen has admirably epitomized the law of Right for the guidance of moral beings: thy heart and soul and mind and strength, and thy neighbor as thy- self.” There we have in a nutshell the rule of Right, the great moral law of Benevolence, Wrong, on the other hand, may ‘ consist either of wrong actions, or of | right actions with a wrong motive. Ul- | timately the leaven of selfishness may be detected in both. Even the love of home, of family, or of country, may become pure and undiluted seli- ishness, or, at best, a mere animal in- stinct. I love them because they are mine. In other words, I love myself. | The love of benevolence wills their highest good, and soars higher than this realm of selfishness, and makes the necessary sacrifice that may be required to obtain the object, and subordinates their welfare to the higher good, which conscience, rea- | son or revelation may present. { Benevolence must not be confound- ed with mere emotional sentiment. | Benevolence is the deliberate choice | of a right object in life with a cor- i responding set of right actions in pur- | suance of that objecr, this being the ‘:besz and indeed oply way to secure | the enjoyment of those emotions | which constitute one of its sweetest | rewards. To use a simple illustration, Wrong stands with its back to the sun, its | face turned toward the shadow of Sometimes that shadow takes the form of Wealth, sometimes of : & “Thou | shalt love the Lord thy Go.i with all 9 X - RULE OF RIGER LTIMATELY it wul be found on examination that the || rule of right resolves || itself into the rule of benevo'ence, whi'e the wltimate analysis of all forms of wrong will be jound to be pure, undiluted self- ishn ss. * — | Pleasure, sometimes of Honor, some- | times of Ease. But it will be univer- ! sally found to be analyzable as Self,]w ;disguised in different costumes. A iwrong life pursues this shadow. The | | fastzi the pursuer runs, the faster the shadow flees, till both disappear over | the edge of the precipice of death. | The shadow is never caught. Thei | pursuer ultimately perishes. He calls | | the shadow Happiness, but Selfishness | | and true Happiness never meet. | Right, on the other hand, turns its | back on the shadow of Self, its face to the Sun of Righteousness. In! | obedience to the great law of Benev- | | olence, it resolutely sacrifices the | lesser for the greater good, the paltry | self for the worthy many. If it pos- sesses brains they are placed at the disposal of humanity., Their luscious | fruit is lavished on the markets of the lworld. If it possesses influence’,‘ | knowledge, health, wealth—in short, | | anything that is worth having—all is | offered cheerfully and willingly for | | the service of God and humanity, as | representing the highest good. Right | runs toward the Sun of Righteous- | ness, and the shadow of Self now | becomes its servant. The faster Right | runs the faster does its shadow fol- | low and minister 0 its needs trve happiness, “good measure, pressed down, shaken together nnd.mnm'ru over. 5 — BY COMMANDE BOOTH TUCKEN lose his mind with his flessh? I'll guarantee with th’ aid iv an alarm clock to make anny man a livin’ skiliton in thirty days. A lady with a young baby won’t nivir get na chubbier nor th’ gintleman, its father. Th’ on'y ginooine anti-fat threatment is sick-~ ness, worry, throuble an’ insomnya. Th’ scales ain’t anny judge iv beauty or health. To be beautiful is to be nachral. Ye have grreat nachral skinny beauty while my good looks is more buxom. Whin I see an’ ol’ fool in a sweater an’ two coats sprintin’ up th’ sthreet an’ groanmin’ at ivry step, I want to jine with th” little boys that ar-re throwin’ bricks at him. If he takes off th’ flesh that Nature has wasted on his ongrate- ful frame, his skin won't fit him. They'se nawthin’ more heejous to look at thin a fat man that has rayjooced his weight. He looks as though he had bought his. coverin” at an auction. It bags undher th' eyes an’ don’t fit in th’ neck. “A man is foolish that thries to be too kind to his stomach, annyhow. Fletcher’s idee is that th’ human stomach is a kind iv little Lord Fauntleroy. If ye give it much to do it will pine away. But Dock Casey tells me ’tis a gr-reat, husky, good-natured pugilist that’ll take on most annything that comes along. It will go to wurruk with grim resolution on a piece iv hard coal. It will get th’ worst iv it, but what I mane is that it fears no foe an’ doesn’y dhraw th’ color line. I wud put it in th’ heavy middle weight class an’ it ought to be kept there. It requires plenty iv exercise to be at its best, an’ if it doesn't get emough, it loses its power, ontil a chocolate eclair might win against it. It mustn’t be allowed to shirk its jooties. It shud be kept in thrainin’, an’, says Dock Casey, if its owner is a good matchmaker an’ doesn’t back it again op- ponents that ar-re out iv its class, or too manny at wan time. it will still be doin’ well whin th’ brain is on’y fit f'r light exercise.” “D’ye expict to go on accumylatin’ to th’ end iv ye'er days?” asked Mr. Hennessy. “I do that,” said Mrs Dooley. “I expict to make me frinds wurruk f'r me to th’ last. They’ll be no gayety among th’ pall bear- ers at me obsequies. They'll have no siny- cure. Befure- they get through with me they’ll know they've been to a fun'ral.” — .z l COMMANDER BOOTH TUCKER. [ | off the dead branch, prunes the living — ione, that it may “bring forth more | actions | UBIECT OF DIVINTY, Oalicr the main- spring of the hu- man heart from self- ishness into benevo- lence and to makeils || corresrond | | with that grand pur- p.se is th~ ohject of - | noblest actions of which the human heart and mind are capable. It throws ;:he warm glow of love around pov- erty; it envelops in a halo of glory | sacrifice; it wraps its long {around the world and says to each son and daughter of man, “You | my brother.” | Under the influence of Benevolence how different becomes the character of the same persons already de- scribed. | The benevolent ruler becomes | father of his people. | The statesman broadminded. arms are | and Might guided by Right. i rudder of Right responds to its highest ultimate good. man heart from selfishness is the object of divinity mysterious are easily ful husbandman’s knife, which LR S S Self dominates any sphere, as the motive power cannot fail to do harm. The ruler becomes a tyrant. The statesman narrowminded. The religious teacher a bigot fanatic. The wealthy man stingy. The beautiful woman vain. The talented genius conceited. is malevolence and or ;S ATITIRAIET The successful man dogmatic. "he ordinary individual discontent- fruit.” - The sculptor’s chisel {hammer deal blow on blow to | example of Right backed up by Might | slightest touch of the pilot, Reason, | iwhile the compass of Conscience | never swerves a hairsbreadth from its | true direction, and the engines Almighty Power are engaged in driv- | ing the universe along the course of To alter the mainspring of the hu- benevolence and to make its actions correspond with that grand purpose in all it dealings with humanity, Hence provi dences which might seem otherwiss understood from this point of view. The skill- divinity in all its The religious teacher tenderly so- | deal nés with hwu- | |licitous of the welfare of his flock. e » . [ The wealthy man liberal—nay, lav- mll/nbt]/. | ish—his expenditure can nevér keep o <+ | pace with his heart, nor his purse- harmony with his motive. Here - we strings compass the length and have the only perfect illustration and A breadth of his benevolence. The beautiful woman consecrates The | her talent, her voice, her charm, her the} influence, to the service of humanity. The genius realizes that his brains are the property of his fellowmen, de- posited with him by his Creator as a sacred trust. The successful man bends all energies toward making othes suc- ceed, and refuses to trample upon their welfare in order to achieve a momentary personal triumph. The ordinary man of the street, the man without extraordinary parts prospects, envelops the paths of common, everyday life with a halo of duty well performed, of love throned in its most sacred shrine— the human heart! And never, per- haps, is benevolence more truly beau- tiful than when it is encased like a priceless gem in the simple setting of a lowly life, with nothing to offset its own intrinsic virtue, value and beauty in its surroundings. The elec- of his into | or cuts and | the ed, revengeful and unhappy. Benevolence has just the opposite‘ effect. Love in action—and true love cannot long lie dormant—is the most beautiful and forceful motive power in the world. We are told that God is Love. His motive is absolutely gure, and his actions are in absolute . block of marble, adding beauty with each stroke. Benevolence usually | grows better in the torrid temperature of affliction, bereavement, | and sacrifice than in the polar regions of ease, indulgence and what the world too often wrongly calls suc- cess. Benevolence inspires the suffering | tric light of benevolence shines most brightly in life’s darkest highways and byways, where all the forces of a con- centrated soul—its utmost Might— " are directed by Right, acknowledging the Brotherhood of Man, accepting the Fatherhood of God and seeking the highest welfare of the universa.