i
THE BEE;' OMAHA," FRIDAY, - SEPTEMBER 6, 1912.
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SILK! HAT HARRY'S DIVORCE SUIT
The Judge Brings a Little Stranger Home
Copyright. 19tf. National News Ass'n.
Drawn for The Bee by Tad
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Married Life the Third Year
Helen and Warren Spend an Evening at Home' in Their
London Apartment. , ' : ,
By MABEL HERBERT UKNER.
'"'''.The cab drew up at the curhlng be
.' fore an imposing entrance,
r- Warren jumped out, dragged but one
.- of the suit cases, looking impatiently
toward the doorway. But no one came
6st for their baggage. ' ' 1
Leaving the suit case' 6ri the sidewalk
and Helen in the cab, he strode inside
' and .'came back with a " porter. ' The
driver dragged the trunks from the top
the cab and the' porter got them into
the Railway. '"';"' .
"I'm afraid" yoiir rooms are not quite
: ready, sir,'' the man informed thera a
, he took them up in the flft
They found both rpoms torn up. ' Rugs
were rolled aside and 'the furniture
pushed 'lh the' corner.' One -woman Was
washing the floor and anotheV the win-
dbwa.. V if.'.'
, "Whts all this,' demanded , Warren.
',"Why aren't these rooms rea'ay?'"'
,The . eorubwomen only looked 'tip in
inute inquiry. -'" ' '! ,,
"'They wouldn't know,' dearj'". mur
mered .Heleju ;."Xou'll have to. see the
'' manager." .. ' ' ' " .!"" '
't ' JlThere, isnrt ahy, manager 's aHlan
:iereM,'Tjat'ji what they have' In most
v ot'thes'e Londpn abartmetits'.'f ""f '"T" '
i A faint Jingle 'of key down the'han
and the housekeeper appeared. '
"I'm very , sorry ,f eir but Jhe party
didn't leave -until last nlgiht: '.' We 'li have
this ail in order by lunch time."
"Well, what about' our, baggage T'
asked Warren,.' With' difflcity 'restraining
' "liis :,. Impatience! ' He '. alwayj 'haed.
Cdeal with women because he .-cqu'td .'not
roar at them. "That stuf can't stand
down therein the hall.: .
"Oh, the porter will take care of that,
sir. If you'll comeviback around one,
you'll find everything ready and your
baggage here." " '. ' ' 1
( There was nothing to do but to ac
cept the situation... Helen was devoutly
glad that it had been . Warren and not
she who, had engaged these rooms. Had
she been -responsible Ws VrfitattoH would
lhave been ventedfupon rher. Now he
was forced to make the best pt it
Helen had not really wanted to leave
the hotel Since they were to be in "Con
don only a month,-, it' seemed hardly
worth while to moVe. BuJ Warren had
insisted on an apartment ' Said be
wouldn't etand for the "wash-stand and
pitcher" any longer that -he wanted his
own bath and a place whefethey could
have breakfast In thet8 rooms.
Aa they went down the lift, Helen
noticed . some mail addressed to "Lady
" and "Sir -." . And- there was a
package on the hall table addressed to
"The Honorablo .' ;v "
"Warren, did you notice those letters
In "the ereVator? eagerly', " when ' they
reached the etreet. . '"Why, this must be
a very good place. Did you know there
were any "titled people here?"
"No, and I'm not keen on knowing it
now. We'll get It on our btya all right
They always lap on a few extras when
they've got a 'lord' or 'lady, In the
house' ' . -" ' v '"-"t r '
He paused on the corner and glanced at
his watch.
"I'll have to leave you here., It's al
most eleven. What are you going to do?
Loaf around the shops until noon?"
"I suppose I'll have to," ruefully, "but
Td much rather stayed there and un
packed." "You'll have all afternoon for that
What "do you . say of having dinner sent
up (o the rooms tonight? - We've been
going out pretty steady." '
, "Oh, yea, dear, I'd love K." r
"WeajreUUj.,.w.bat.kiriid pfdipner
tfcey' B put up. And we'll .get to bed
4riT Tni'0t4veTr-nlght bwlnestn era
beVoverdone. Thlnlc' ' I'll take? thevtube
fWm.r;- that B "be" uuickerMhan a
' lis."'," '. P::-,i f' . ,
THeT hett: htouf Hcl(l, spern 'ih exploring-the
ehppa;pf,'tfca,,nelghbOThooi 4Ohe
o'clock found her back at the apartment
eager to begin the unpacking and' to' get
"straightened out" . . --; -c v -
She found the rooms in perfect order
and the baggage there. The sittihg room
was most, attractive with its white, pan
elled walls, fresh muslin curtains and the
furniture covered with white linem There
were a few good engravings on the walls
and a couple of very good vases and
candlesticks' 'on the mantel. 'The bed
room was also in white. f .1 ' .f
Helen could not help but compare these
charming, home-like , rooms with( the
typical New York "furnished apartment,?
with its cheap, gaudy furniture and utter
lack of taate. - J ; ' ''
Eagerly jshe1 began to unpack. There
was only one tiny wardrobe,"but itVas
to well fitted with hangers that ; there
thoightfulnss. Not a thing had been
overlooked that might add to their,-comfort
. -
A little .later the manageress came., to
the door to see if everything was all
right and express her regrets" tht" the
rooms had not v been ready. While-she
was there Helen 'asked about having
dinner sent up. '. . .
;Oh, yes, you can have any meal
served in your rooms, ril hav a" little
folding table put in. The dinner fs three
shillings and sixpence for service. " But
we don't serve wine; you'll have to sup
ply that yoiirstlf. ' ' There's a; very good
wine shop on the block below,' and, there's
a flower stand .there, too, ( When you
wish flowers.'.' ' . ' ' .
Surely that was-very "'English! rtelen
cou'ld' not c6nfeivft'bi a Kew;York house-,
keeper': 'or", manager 'volunteering the -in-forrftation
" to where you could get
troVers. Biit '. she had "come to 'know
that;, to ' the English flowers were al
most a necessity. . . '. ' : !
The blue Vases on '-the mantel seemed
to call for flowers, . So, when she had
finished' 'unpaekjng". Helen' wept out to
the iltUe stand, on- ,tie block ,uetow,; ana
bought two- great Bunehwis of ' daff odils
sljt pence afbunph? he also stoppeS'.'lritd
.' - . - . t ... . . 1
me wine siqre ior a oouie 01 ciaret. .
:-!The daffodils 4n the Wn , va?s . gavt
the f final ' touch of ' charn and " home.
'The rest of the afternoon; Helen i spent
In going over her clothes, ,'putting on
hooka and ' eyes,; 'Shampooing her ' hair,
'washing gloves- said "getting 'things really
'".In' ;.o'rder.'f .They; ' had .."been in. London
over two wfeka,;nd nntll new'.-.ahe had
not had a moment to spend on her clothes.
: Yielding to a sudderi Impulse, -sh '.put
i on her prettfeet dinner gbwn, ''This wai
to be "an evening at' home-4n their own
home in London. ;' -.
When Warren came he opened' the door
on a ve;'y attractive scene the. charming
little' sitting room", with its shaded lights
and flowers, and Helen in a low-necked
gown." '' " ''," ; ' ' .' ' ' " :
'love, we look, acrnmptlons. What's all
the iglad. rags for? Thought we weren't
going out tonight? .
"We're! not," Joyfully. "But I wanted
to have a Wonderful little dinner here.
Oh, I . love this place. Aren't 1 these
charmlnf rooms?'
' -"Hura," glahiing around approvingly.
"I.ookg a darn sight better than it did
this morning." .
"Arid 'they're really very nice here. The
manageress 1, came in. this afternoon to
say- how 'sorry she wn'sr the rooms, weren't
s ready. I spoke about having dinner up
here.' It's 3 shillings each for dinner and
6 pence for the service.; Don't you think
that's cheap?" "V .
"That's art ; right. But hurry it up.
Tell them to trot it along- Th hungry."
"And,, dpar," rubblngJier cheek plead
ingly against his arm, "would you mind
putting on a dinner coat? Let's make it
a very' wonderful dinner."
"All right," good natwefjly, "anything
to satisfy, you.",
. While Warren dressed, the maid brought
Inland set the folding table. It was not
the usual careless .serving of 'a meal In
he room. Kvery detail ot the table was
perfect,' even to the pink shaded candle
which jshe, placed in the center. Helen
put on "a vase of the daffodils and drew
up ttl..charc .....
"Well, that's something like it!" ex
claimed Warren, when he came out look
ing fresh and well groomed in his dinner
coat.
"Isn't it charming?", assented Helen
eagerly. "Oh, I do love the atmosphere
of 'this.' Dear; I'm so-glad we came here."
; "What'd I tell you? Isn't this a darn
sight better than being ' cooped up in
that hotel room? If Americans only knew
they could get furnished flats' over here
and live twice - aa well for the' same
money they'd put ' out of business a
few of these hotels who soak the tour
ist. 'But we' wont be ao jubilant tlll'we
see what the dinner's like. ' Atmosphere
may. be enough for you but I want some
goodwood along with it". ... s.
from where, she- sat, the table and her
self were .retlected in the long mirror
over ' the mantel. She" could ,see only
Warren's back but it was the broad,
well-groomed back she so loved. The
line of his head and shoulders always
thrilled her. Stirred to a sudden tender
ness, ' She', arose quickly and 'came over
to. nestle a moment on the 'arms of hs
chair.. , V'.i.i ' 'v
"Oh, dear isn't. it. wo.nierful! Aren't you
ver. very happy tonight?" . .,
, .."I'd he happier ,? If Tyou'll take your
sleeve out of the .butter."
'"Oh!" wiping the offending chiffon
flounce on her nripkin, as she -went back
f her seat with an uncertain little laugh.
OAT A SYS-IT Aft ILL WiflD THrVT
CrVNT FIND ANYTHING- To BtQW
tr NTLE MEM Si SEATED
TARA-RArtA
Bones -ah got sad mews to
TELL You W3TAH JOMNSOri
INTERLOCOTOff- WELL !M VCY
SORRY TO HEAtWAT BONES .
WHAT5 HAPPENED
BOMES- WHY HAM &RANDrWfMC3ti
LAKE WONM OCTtCTHt
OVER fWE CLIfF 5AW
THt OLD HERMIT rliSCR BURY
IMG TH60LD"hA,HA;SAYETH
FRITZ, HC MATH DISCOVERED
fcOrtCTHINfrTfrRASmii HI5
TRUSTY FLOUR SACK rfriTZ
LET IT DOWN SCOOPED UP THE
fJoWNSON.AM YH0U6WT TWe ' 'T?ALE AND ,H Ufil ALt THE-
WOffLD 01 TMAT OLD man
INTERLO&UTOR- THATS TOO'.BABi
ONf 6. llL DCT Hi. UKtQtfOV ,
T0O.DIDNT HE I
BOHRS-OH YES- HE TWOWCrHT
AH WAS A GRAND -CH ILD.
oa f
PUSMS IN TWC WELL SUff
SHES frOT El&HT M0K5CHAfftCCS"
G-OLD EAGLES SCREECHED,
IC A SkUcn kirt
r n gimm;is visa nnu
ivrOESTO HEAVEN WILL HE
e A 5JCYSCRAW '
BUT OFFICER,
I THOUGHT I KNEW
'THE LADY !i
HAtrril
HALT.' who
IfiOCSTUERt'
i
ii
Is
ATTHISWOUR
Of the NlfiMT
H SEEMS
ISTRAN6C THAT
A MAN SHOULD
fKOWl ABOUT
IT AIL STARTED IN Bfr TCDS
MCTRY MUCILAGE PaLO.
FOOTBALL PETE AND MIKE
THE DUTCHES WftE AR60ING
AND SOON CAME TO BLOWS
THEN A BATTLE ROYAL FOLLOW
ED. Ml ICE WAS JU6T ASOLHr
ITO PLANT A b2E IO ON PETE
WHEN A DOTTLE N THE NECK 1
lDROPPEJ HIM. WHEN THCY
ifeoUGHT HIM TO THEY SAT
HIM UP FALLING BACK MIKE
PEEPED OVER HIS CHEATECS
AND GASPED
"IF TOM SHARKEY DIED
We? OLD THEY PLACE HIM
CWABlER (BSEftJ.?
siten prince, he
BIT Your FATHER'
WELL
AND-
WHO ARE
YOU?
iMiVCBoeB
' THAT PUT TWE
COW IN
7
MOSCOW
A Six-Hour pay for Wives
in
ren's. The bureau . drawers were ai)
reshly lined with white paper anothei"
not of English thoroughness and
was "room for both hetlclothe9';and;Wac-J'''If jou enly would haye just a little bit
of sentiment!"
' "Don't need It
us both." '
You've got enough for
By DOROTHY DIX. :
thia country eight hours' lalor a
day W Considered sufficient for a Jhrick
Iayer,rofi,.;a hodcarrierii 'or- a. ...lcnghore-
:man.:tn A.u.s'tralla, wheke they" do rthlngs
a little . better; ' it has been decided that
six hours a day Ul enough for, a 'husky
man to labor. , v ? '.
But everywhere the idea of limiting
the number of" hours that a wife . and
mother should work is estimated so truly
humorous and .. absurd that the comic
artists use the suggestion ' as a ' theme
to make people, laugh.
Harha! Tee-luer1 It is certainly amus
ing to think of -mother only working
six hours a day, instead of twelve, or
eighteen, and the artist of the Sydney
Bulletin has ( given in the picture that
accompanies this article, his idea of the
side-splitting complications that would
ensue should this grotesque idea of cur
tailing a wlife and. mother's working
day, ever be put : into practice. .
Of course, in such an event,, there
would have to be relays of wives, work
ing '.on different shifts, because ou
can't knock, off 'the work of 'taking care
of; a house - and . the children just be
cause ,the whistle1 blows and your six
hour day is op. There are stilt about
eleven million other things to, be done
la order to insure the comfort and well
being of the family; Mother does it all
now, but she doesn't keep union hours.
If she did she could parcel out her . Job
amon two other women, and there
would be plenty of work for them all
Suppose that Mother, like some other
laborers, worked on a six-hour sched
ule. , . '
The average woman's day begins at (
o'clock, when she gets up, hurries into
her own clothes, cooks the breakfast,
wakes up father and finds his clothes for
him; wakes up the children and helps
them get dressed; fixes the baby's bottle,
and serves the breakfast she has pre
pared to her family.
Then she washes behind little Johnnie's
ears, : combs little Mary's hair, helps
Tommy find his cap, goes over their les
sons with all of the children, sees that
their shoes are blacked and nicely tied
up, and ' gets them off to school. .. Then
she bathes and dresses the baby and gets
It to sleep again, cleans up the breakfast
things, makes the beds and sweeps the
house " and goes- to market, after which
she darns and patches and mends on the
days she isn't washing and Ironing, .until
time to get lunch. This brings her up to
12 o'clock, every minute of which has
been breathless work. " ' , 1
No one can deny that she has done a
fair day's work, and has earned her board
and keep,, whfch hi all she' gets out of
it, for, alas, there Is' no pay envelope on
Saturday attached, to the Job of wife.
But can you imagine mother putting
down her tool at 12 o'clock, and quitting
work? ..What would happen if she laid
aside the broom and the. duet, pan and
locked up the sewing machine and banged
down . the "iop ot the' cook stove? ,
Where Would the baby get Its bottle?
Who Would tfive the children their lunch?
Who "would take the baby out for an air
ing? Who'- would make the family
ciheV ty iilf Cpee the children
dldn't ruii wlldf Vho would cook dinner
for fc'lftintry man.?: -f'V !m?.j-..
Be sure that if wife No. 2 came on duty
. A conference at Sydney hag derided that six hours should
constitute a day's work This is a picture of the worker's
home and his two slx-lyur wives the breakfast wife (8
a. m. to 2 p. m.) and the dinner wife (2 p. m. to 8 p. m.)
The dinner wife is cooking the evening meal under the cold
eye ot the breakfast wife. The breakfast kid and the din
ner kid (fenced off to prevent trouble) are making things'
hot for the all day cat. Sydney Bulletin.
at 12 o'clock she wouldn't find time
hanging heavily on her hands for she
would find plenty to do to keep her hust
ling until o'clock, when father's key
was heard in the lock.
Wife No. 3 could take it easie for all
that she would have to do would be to
serve the dinner that No. 2 had cooked,
and to clear away the table, wash the
dishes, tidy up the kitchen, arrange the
breakfast for the next morning, entertain
father when he felt like talking, help the
children with their lessons, sing the baby
to sleep, put the children to bed, and sit
up a couple of hours after father had
gone 'to his rest doing' the darning that
the other two wives had not found time
to do during the day. Afterwhich she
would have nothing to do, but to' walk
the baby when it had the colic and get up
half a dozen times during the night to get
water for the other children,, give Mary
seme medicine when she coughed and see
that Tommy was covered, .. s
Naturally there are several objections
to the three-platoon system of wives.
For , one . thing, women are foolish and
Illogical creatures, and any wife would
rather work herself to , death than to
divide up her labor and her husband with
another lady, or ladies. For another
thing, the high cost of living inclines men
to oellbary rather than to Mormonlsm.
With millinery the price it is, a man
finds it hard enough to buy hats and
fallals for one ; woman without adding
further drains on his purse by having to
purchase Paris confections for her under-
studies.-; .
So -there ;is no earthly chance vr
mother winning' Jur on 'fflke for -a
six-hour or an eight-hour day. She's
got to be on her job early; and late,' for
literally her work Is never done.
And the wonder of It all Is that women
are able' to endure this neverceaslng
labor, to stand these long hours, this
monotonous doing over and over again,
day by day,- year after year, the dull
round of little tasks that are maddening
in their monotony. For women's work Is
to sweep floors that are lint ered the
next minute and must be swept again,
to cook meals that are eaten - for people
who are hungry again within an hour
or two, to mend clothes that are torn
again, to soothe fretful children that are
forever whimpering and crying. . '
. The most robust man would break down
under the strain of such long hours and
of work which makes such a ceaseless
demand on nerves and temper, and yet
such Is the miracle of love that it puts
into a frail, delicate little. women's, body
the strength to perform this herculean
labor, All about us we see one woman
doing three women's work so. often that
we don't even notice it nor count 'tho
number of hours she toils a. day.
Of course great big, husky men
shouldn't be worked to death. Six or
eight hours a, day is plenty for them
to work. But the idea of mother not
working more than t six or eight hours
a day is certainly a rip-roaring farce.
It Is to laugh at the mer8 Idea. Ha-ha.
Tee-hee! '
''Seasonable Uinta.
Frosted earn, should be rubbed with
snow until the circulation returns.
A newspaper folded Into an oblong
shnne and thr.ist undr the back of the
vet makes a good substitute for an overcoat-
"
The Summer Storm
By WINIFRED BLACK.
Thesllttle girl was desperately angry.
Bhe started to run upstairs, and at
the first step she turned, stamped her
fooliab little foot aa hard as ah could
and shouted In a strange, strained, harsh
voice.
"Ob!" she said. "Oh.. I wish the light
nlng would at like the whole world
and kill it all to pieces-i, wish " but
just then someone in authority arrived
and the little girl ran upstairs and hid
her hed in th bed. clothes end would
r.ot even- listen to . the rain tapping,
tapping on the window pane, and rush
ing, rushing down the steep sides of the
high shingled roof. '
And yet It was worth listening to that
rain It says so many things. '
"Hark!" It whisper! "Hark"-how the
whole world Is stopping to listen .to "the
rain song. ''
"Shsh-"-Ured babies, will fall asleep,
worn mothers will smile ' at the sound
of the song. ' 1 , ; ;
Flowers faded in the heat of thettoo
friendly sun will revive, the parching
duBt IH the red road will soften, the moss
will begin to grow. See how the lilies
hold up their thirsty cups. ' .
Listen; the little stream silent so lon
begins to murmur," the tall trees bow to
the oncoming storm.
Jlark there's the thunder; : ah, there
comes the lightning It looks as it a tall
man walked and swung hltf lantern how
here's his shadow between the .light and
the dark.
Now, It's a great pen writing In fluid
fire.
" What Is it that it says to us, all the
wondrous writing there on the wall of
purple clouds? . ,
Come, children, run Into the House the
rain, the real rain has begun. '
And the little girl lies upstairs In the
room under the peaked roof cry1n(f."Qh,
how bitterly she . cries! "I wish,"' she
subs, "I wish" poor, poor little girl the
storm has begun, hasn't it the storm of
life,-for you. . , .' ";;
How do you Intend to weather It, I
wonder with anger, with tears, with
dreadful wishing of dire disaster to all
who oppose your vagrant fancies? Poor
little foolish girl; your eyes are red, your
soft hair tumbles about yur flushed face,
the smile that makes you oeautimi is
gone.
All the joyous delight in mere living
for living's sake, where Is that? Gone,
too, with the happy smile. Dear, dear,
what a tragedy and all because you
could not go out in the very face of the
coming storm and play lady up and down
the walk In your mother's old lilac frock
tlat you have taken such freakish fancy
for.
'Well, well what 'a sorrow to be sure
you'll forget it tomorrow, little girl. In
an hour from now you won't remember
what It was all about the wild storm In
your little rebel heart-I wish I could
make you see what a waste of time it's '
to cry like that. ... ;
Soma day you'll knew, poor child, some
day.
There's something grimly Just in the
course of nature after all. I never ktipw
a heart to fairly burst over fancied of
row that some real grief did not come. t
along to make pretence over into sober!
earnest. Don't cry ao hard, little M;
soma i&y you'll neod thoae tear.: , . ' 3 .
Some one will forget to ask you to' Mr
party. "' ;y ;'
The woman next door will have an auto
when you have to walk. Your husband '
will forget to bring yon a .. knot ,t $f
violets on your anniversary day-oh,, ter
rible things are waiting for you down the
road of life, little girl. Why don't' yft
save all that rush of tears for them?
What you love to cry-It does you good
-you feel better now that the tears are
gone. I ' . v-;
Yes, but-well, I declare, you look bet
ter, too. Was It juat a atorm as natural
as lightning, as necessary a thing as thi
rain, perhps-and yet ; '
I, ought to scold you, little girl. I ought
to punish you some wsy and I will. ,.
There, Veil shall have chocolate. ,te
cream today-not peach aa you hopefl
and the ribbon In. your bonnV broi'e
hair shall be hltie-not p'nk at all. S
shall I satisfy the demand for puriisrf
ment. , V ... , .- f '
You are sorry, you say your arm are
around my neck. How soft they' arji,
-' ..1v.11 nun Kl 1110. f
What a foSllBh little face It Is that leans
against my tired forehead; how fast the
little heart beats that rests so close o
mine. Oh, my darling, if I could etjlj;
hold you so when the real troubles eojh'e
Hf I could only "punish" you t myseljf
Instead of letting Mfe cruel, rehmtHi .
life-do It. ' :
. Look, the clouds are breaking In the
sky, the sun shines On a d tat ant vlje
on the mountain aide; how green,.:how
green It 1st- : ,.
The air ta fresh and sweet, all .iiji
flowers trod gaily in the light breese th
storm left when it raged agross the hllla
in the next valley below. The ..lltjljs
stream how loudly It sings! '1 live."..,!
sings. "I live."
And you, little girl, you are glad the
lightning, did not strike the whole world
you are sorry you wished that you-r
well, l am sorry too.
Some day, perhaps, you will wish i"6
again, and . I may not be there t snifte
at the fury of your balked Intent. ' vf.
Will you remember then, little girt? tH
you think of me, and of how we w$
inruuRn xn storm togeiner, mis summer
day, and kissed each other and smiled
when It was all over?
I wonder. .'.-': "'
r
The Manicure Lady
' "Gee, George, the papers Is getting
after Mister John D. Rockefeller and
Mister Roseben, ain't they?" asked the
Manicure Lady. ' '
"You don't mean Mister Roseben, said
the Head Barber, . favoring the Mani
cure Lady with a more-sorrow-than-anger
look. ,"You mean Mister Penrose." -
"George," demanded the Manicure Lady,
"is the time ever going to come when
you will stop' thinking .that you know
more than anybody that ever met you?
Why Is it that you are all the time
looking for a chance to oorre'ct me? I
got a good grammar school education,
And If you ever went through the first
reader class and got your , honorable
discharge you did more than your talk
would prove for you,"
"I went way past the first reader,
got Into the second reader, and I guess
that Is the last , reader ot them all
the reader of human nature and the
reader of good books. I wish I could have
gone to Yale or Princeton, but I didn't
want to tax the old man. too bard af ter
all that he had done for me,, so I told
him after I had finished the last term
at school that he could afford for me
that I wanted to go to work. It turned
out all right at jtbat. I've got a pretty
good Job, as N(ew York Jobs go, ' and
I manage to get by." ;
"I den't mean to effend you George,"
said the penitent Manicure Lady. "You are
all the time kidding me, so I thought it
wouldn't be no more than fair if I kid
ded you a little. But as I was saying,
they are certainly after the Standard Oil
gang.' I guess that they have the fear
of all creation In their hearts. Brother
Wilfred is writing a poem that the calls
"The Shame of Standard Oil." He read
it to. me this morning and X' thought the j
first two stanza was pretty fierce, but I
By WILLIAM F. KIRK. ' r y V ' " '
had to humor the poor boy a little, so I
told him they were good, but not so. gfloh
as the third verse. The third verse waajilt
bad at that. It went; . ' ' ' y.
1 ,.'
Thou octupus, thou alimy, crawling, thing,
Cruchlng the bones of Progress and of
Right, ' , - z'J
I see thee In my visions every night, '' f
Making the whole world writhe beneath
thy atlng.
Oh, for some Ajax with a spear to fling
Against that sepulchre so deadly white.
"There ain't enough humor In It," af
Jected the Head Barber. "He ought' tP
have put in a few local gags, like "Hjw
Is old John D. anyhow?' and have the
answer be, 'Oh, John D. Is oil Tighti'
That's the trouble with your brtrtheo
kiddo. He never stops to think that 't
he could slip over one real humorduV
poem, he might be loaning you sugar
instead of you staking him to carfare."
"I guess you are right, George, but tjie
old gent said the other night when I
asked hlin if he didn't think WifTrta
should write humorous poetry, that hi
thought'all of Wilfred's poetry -was i. a
Joke anyhow." . ; . - . -
A Kentucky Orator. , , !
' South Trimble, a cleric of' the house" tfr
representatives, was talking In Washing
ton about a Kentucky orator. 1 -...-
"He Is more-loquacious than 'eloquent"
said Mr. Trimble, with a smile. "Hia
mouth, to Judge from the length of hia
speeches, must be as big as Peleg Ander
son's. ' :, "
"Peler Anderson entered a Louisville
music shop to buy a mouth organ. H
had a very large mouth, and, though ho
tried every organ In the establishment,
none of them seemed to suit him. iv
" 'See here," said the salesman finally,
we'll nave to make an organ to order rot
you, I guess, Peleg. Just try your mouth
along this piano.' "Washington HeTeia,