The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917, July 19, 1906, Image 5

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    I Prisons of Yesterday and
I Prisons of To-day
f Undoubtedly Very Great Progress Has Bees Made Moral
I ditioas aud tbe Bad Sanitary Coadtiaot of tbe Past.
U—7^r—
A recent reform inaugurated at the
Illinois state penitentiary at Joliet
does away with the “lockstep.” The
prisoners now are to march in mili
tary fashion. Which item of news
sets us pondering on the change in
treatment of prisoners that marks the
last century and a half. Not yet are
conditions ideal, not yet is the prison
admittedly successful as reform
school; but unquestionably progress
has been made.
An authority asserts that to-day
there is no department of science,
■whether physical or social, in which
progress is more evident than in the
realm of penology—the study of the
management of prisons. The same
one-time prison cells, where. 70 feet
below the surface, manacled prisoners
were crowded at night; their feet
fastened with heavy iron bars, chains
about their necks attached to beams
above. The caves reeked with filth;
contagious fevers were incessant. The
keeper was allowed to punish by flog
ging, putting on shackles and fetters,
the treadmill, solitary confinement
and putting in the stocks, double and
treble sets of irons, banging by the
heels, and other methods that seem
far removed from criminalist views
of the present.
But let us turn from the horrors
and inhumanities of the past to the
work for betterment In the work of
WHIPPING AT THE PILLOBY.
authority, writing in the Forum on
"Progress in Penology,” declares that
the civilization of a people can now
be told quite as well by its prisons
as by its picture galleries, its schools
or its churches.
No one can accuse prison wardens
of being mere sentimentalists. They
have practical knowledge of hundreds
of convicts, they know the total, they
know the average. And when they
give as their judgment that there is
hope for reform in a goodly per cent,
of men under their care, the reforma
tive aspect of prison life should loom
iarge. Formerly the idea of punish
ment dominated. To-day the pris
oner is "deprived of opportunities for
self-indulgence, but is given what he
needs for self-development. He is not
punished for what he has been; he
is to prove by -labor, study and good
behavior what he may be.”
It was in 1T7T the Englishman, John
Nerwwrd, made his famous -report on
prisons, calling attention to the fact
that young and old, innocent and
guilty, were shut up together and in
Idleness. Very soon England set to
work at reforms in prison conditions,
and has since continued at the task
Experience in the world at large has
shown that atringent laws and severe
punishments do not lessen crime.
In the old days they used to look
wpon criminals as dangerous beasts,
desperate characters, of different clay
from ordinary men and women, crea
tures of uncanny cunning. In the
ruins of an American “Old Newgate.”
a colonial prison that later became
the Connecticut state prison, one may
still see deeply embedded in the walls
the iron staples to which the prison
ers were chained while at their work;
and remains of the treadmill used for
refractory convicts. The prisoners
were confined in underground cav
erns, shafts and chambers of an aban
doned copper mine. You may to-day
travel down a tortuous path to thesi
prison reform In the United States
four great organizations have done
much to hasten progress: The Phil
adelphia Society for Alleviating the
Miseries of Public Prisons, formed in
1777; the Boston Prison Discipline So
ciety, organized in 1824; the Prison
Association of New York; the Na
tional Prison Association of America.
And, as Dr. Wines says, yeoman serv
ice has been rendered by individuals,
i Barrows, in summing up the most
: important indications of progress in
penology in the past century, gives
the following points: (1) The higher
standard of prison construction and
administration; (2) the improved
! personnel in prison management; (3)
the recognition of labor as a dis
, ciplinary and reformatory agent; (4)
substitution of productive for unpro
ductive labor, and to a small degree
for unrequited labor; (5) an improve
ment in prison dietaries; (6) newer
and better systems of classification:
(7) the substitution of a reformatory
I for a retributory system; (8) proba
j tion or conditional release for first
offenders, with friendly surveillance;
i (9) the parole system; (10) the Ber
; tiilon system for identification of
.prisoners; (11) the new attention
; given to the study of the criminal,
\ his environment and history; (12)
separation of accidental from habitual
j criminals; (13) the abandonment of
■ transportation; (14) the humane
treatment of the criminal insane;
i (15) the new' emphasis laid upon pre
1 ventive instead of punitive, or mere
* ly corrective, measures.
CHRISTOPHER WEBSTER.
Unappreciative.
Relder—I wonder what Jingleton
: gets for his magazine poemr?
Noxley—I don’t know; but I know
what he ought to get.
Relder—What?
Noxley—Six months twice a year.—
fhicago Daily News.
MEAT SUPPLY FOR MILLIONS.
Packers Con Kffl. More Than 480,wo
Animals Daily at Chicago
Stockyards.
efcicago —The dally capacity of the
Union stockyards in Chicago is 75,000
eattle, 300,000 hogs and 50,000 sheep.
Persons employed in and about the
yards number 45,000, upon whom are
dependent probably a quarter million
relatives. , ,
Within the square mile occupied by
the stockyards are 200 acres of pens,
20 miles of streets, 20 miles of water
ing troughs, 55 miles of drainage and
water pipes and 150 miles of railroad
tracks. The stockyards were founded
in 1865. With accessories, they repre
sent Invested capital of $67,000,000.
Chicago literally supplies the world
with meats. The armies of England
France, Germany and Russia subsist
upon fare prepared here, as do a great
part of the population of those coun
tFThe Union stockyards received last
vear 2.613,630 head of cattle, or 1,929,
823 more than St Louis, 1,803,368 more
man umana ana more tnen
Kansas City.
Nearly twice the number of sheep
slaughtered in Kansas City, Omaha
an5 St. Louis are killed annually in
Chicjtgo, while much of the stock sold
in other cities finds its destination in
Chicago.
Since the establishment of tiie Union
stockyards 352,000,000 live animals
have been received, of which 12,370,000
were shipped away alive, leaving a
total of 339,630,000 animals killed and
packed in 40 years at this chief cen
ter of the meat industry.
Queer Bequest of Murderer.
A Chinese murderer before being
hanged in Batavia asked to be supplied
with a ticket to Singapore, so tfeat he
could have it on his person after death.
His request was granted and ha died
happy.
Scriptures Widely Distributed.
The British and Foreign Bible soci
ety now distributes the Scriptures In
400 languages. Last year the society
Issued a few volumes short of 6,000,000.
COUNT BON1 IS CAST OUT.
French Chamber of Deputies Annuls !
Election of Castellane on
Bribery Charge.
Paris.--Despite a protest from the j
count the French chamber of deputies
the other day by 253 votes against 221
COUNT BONI DE CASTELLANE.
(Husband of Anna Gould Ousted from
French Chamber of Deputies.)
lecided to invalidate the election of
Count Boni de Castellane, husband of
Anna Gould, as the deputy for the
Basses Alpes.
Bereft first of his little American
Fife and no longer to scatter the mil
lions she brought him from the coffers
»f Jay Gould, Count Boni found him
self arrived at the limit of humiliation
when the chamber of deputies ousted
him from his seat and besmirched him
with insinuations of political corrup
tion and open charges of bribery in
buying his election.
Truly the dapper littl® Frenchman
finds that money makes the gentle
man, the lack of it the fellow.
He now has few friends. Once the
flattered little spendthrift of the
boulevards, the pet of titled women,
on whom he lavished diamonds and
jewels until his wife shut off his supply
of money, he has sunk into the posi
tion of a man ridiculed and laughed at.
Former friends who fawned on him
and reaped the fruits of his sensation
al methods of getting rid of his wife's
money now look upon him as a fool
who has permitted himself to be found
out. Not until the present, however,
was any thought ever taken that he
might find enemies enough in the
chamber to throw him out of his seat.
Now he is mournfully aware of how
far fortune has turned against him and
at one of the clubs from which he is
not yet excluded he declared that the
action of his fellow deputies was the
result of his “painful family difficul
ties,” made public through his wife’s
action for divorce.
How the French aristocracy regards
Count Casteilane in his actions is best
shown by the fact that when he of
fered himself as a member of the
Jockey club he was “pilled” by the
largest number of black balls ever re
ceived by one man..
WHAT DEWEY IS DOING NOW.
THE ADMIRAL PREFERS HARD
WORK TO LIFE OF EASE.
Rank Makes Him Independent of
President or Secretary of Navy
—Is Known as a Well
Groomed Man.
New York.—“What has become of
Admiral George Dewey and what is
he doing now?”
This inquiry, sent to a St. Louis
newspaper, elicited the following in
formation:
Taken all in all there is perhaps no
man in the United States in the serv
ice of the government or out of it who
is in a more enviable position than
is Admiral Dewey. Congress has
given him the rank, pay and allow
ances of an admiral of the navy, re
viving the rank for his benefit. He is
absolutely independent of the secre
tary of the navy and of the president
of the United States.
He cannot be retired and he cannot
be disciplined by reduction in rank
or any of the other usual means em
ployed. The place gives him an an
nual income of $15,500. ,
If he chose to do so he could close
down hia desk, go home and never
turn his hand over in the way of
work, either for the navy or anyone
else, and' his pay and allowances would
go on as long as he lives; but the
admiral prefers to work and to work
hard.
He is at the head of the navy gen
eral board, charged with the duty of;
devising general plans for improve
ment of the navy, the management of;
the ships, the handling of officers and
men, and the control of the great gov
ernment shipyards. Every day when
he is not at sea for the maneuvers
he is at his desk in his office or at
tending to the meetings of the board.
Admiral Dewey is much loved and
much respected. He is a dapper lit
tle fellow, not much more than five
feet In height. His clothes fit him
like the naval uniform, without crease
or bag anywhere.
They do say that the admiral’s Chi
nese valet has no less than 20 new
suits of clothes and ten pairs of shoes
to take care of at a time. The ad
miral is not a dude, merely a well
groomed man without seeming to have
any thought of his personal appear
ance.
He has but one .fad, If fad it .nay
be called, and that is his love for
animals. He has one of the finest
teams of driving horses in the city
and also an ugly-looking English bull
dog. The dog went through the bat
tle of Manila Bay with Dewey, so they
are real bunkies.
When the admiral was making a
tour of inspection of the fleet the dog
went along and was allowed the run
pf a vessel while his master was
aboard. On one ship the admiral re
turned from the men’s quarters just
in time to encounter the dog sailing
in most hurried fashion from the of
ficers’ quarters with the toe of an
officer’s boot in hot pursuit.
Admiral Dewey was white with an
ger and surprise. In a second, when
the captain appeared, following the di
rection of the toe of his boot, the ad
miral, controlling himself as best be
could, demanded;
“Sir, what do you mean by kicking
my dog in that manner?”
The captain came to a swift salate
ADMIRAL DEWET.
(The Distinguished Naval Hero Is a Hard
Worker Through Choice.)
and his face, it was noted, was as
pale and drawn with suppressed anger
as was that of the admiral.
“Sir,” he said, “I would have kicked
that dog if he had b?en the personal
property of the Supreme Being; but,
sir. I would not have kicked him.
and did not kick him, until he had
chewed the legs out of two $15 pairs
of uniform trousers and ruined a de
luxe edition of the Naval Regulations,
as well as killed the ship’s feline mas
cot”
Then they both laughed.
“ KATIE QUAQUA’S CAMP.",
Willow, Mich.—While all of the
white settlers who traded with the
Indians in this vicinity at the begin
ning of the last century have passed
away and the reds have long since
gone to the happy hunting grounds,
there are a few landmarks which still
recall the stories and legends of those
times; not the least interesting of
these is the old log hut, built nearly
100 years ago on the banks of the
Huron river two miles of this town.
In the early days it was known as
“Katie Quaqua's Camp,” and was at
that time Inhabited by the Indians
holding a big reserve in this vicinity.
This reserve granted to the Wyan
dottes by the United States in 1818
was .located in the southeast corner of
Huron township, Wayne county, and
included 4,996 acres. By a treaty of
March 17, 1842, this tract was ceded
back to the government and the
Wyandottes were removed to Kansas.
The familiar landmark to old settlers
known as “Katie Quaqua's Camp,” was
a favorite camping ground of the
red men when they came to this sec
tion on their hunting and trapping ex
cursions. Katie Quaqua was the wife
of James Clark, who lived near Am
herstburg, Ont., and with his daugh
ter, Mary McKee, was among the last
of the onoe most powerful tribe of
Wyandottes who inhabited this terri
tory.
It is related that Katie offered a
half bushel of silver dollars to any
white man who would marry her
daughter, who was almost as fair as
any white girl. After the tribe was
removed Katie visited this place an
nually for several years and it was
believed by the old settlers that she
bad money buried in this vicinity.
===B==^
Nation’s moral
^mar ^gpnotizrb
By PROF. JACOB G. SCHURMAN,
President of Cornell University.
t=^=====S
Among Wi e rich
and well-to-do business
and professional classes
“grafting” has been so
common that the very
idea of commercialism
has become a byword
and a reproach; the
whole nation needs a
new baptism of the old
virus of honesty. The idle rich are an excrescence in any properly
organized community. And in a democratic republic, in which every
man has a vote, be assured that the rights which convention grants
to property would be swept away if the propertied classes become idle
luxurious, selfish, hard-hearted and indifferent to the struggles and
toils of less fortunate fellow citizens. The vice of the age is that men
want wealth without undergoing that toil by which alone wealth is
created. The love of money and the reckless pursuit of it is under
mining the national character. But the nation, thank God, is begin
ning to perceive the fatal danger. The reaction caused by recent rev
elations testifies to a moral awakening. At heart the nation is still
sound, though its moral sense has been too long hypnotized by mate
rial propserity. We must restrain the brutal and predatory pursuit
of wealth by laws for the protection of the weak and for the equaliz
ing of opportunity.
^——————
f ' ' ...
ji
i
I
AROUND
XBASES
Ferris Always Studies
the Plays He Makes
Albert S. Fern:,, of the Boston
American league club, doesn't convey
• he impression of overpowering men
ality by his appearance in baseball
ogs and his general tactics on the
liamond, but there are few players in
he game who really think faster or
more accurately on the duties of their
positions than he. Recently “Hobo''
handed out a few ideas on scoring
from a ball player's standpoint that
are really illuminating.
"I always get the worst of It from
the scorerp," was the way he opened
up. and the introduction made it seem
like the usual complaint. The expla
nation, however, was very different
from the stereotyped article.
“If I’d play the balls that come out !
my way off to the side, I’d get about
half the errors they charge to me,”
Hobe plaintively continued. “It’s an
easy thing to do, and more than half
the American league infielders do it,
too.
"The consequences are obvious.”
Hobe got this away with great glib
ness of tongue. “If I fumble one,
handling it my way and getting
squarely in front of it, it looks a ]
jumping to the conclusion that it vt
a ’spit ball.' called out 'ball' a,uiost
before it had reached the plate. So
you can see that the man who ra^»
ters the ‘spit ball,’ and can pitch 1;
effectively, is handicapped in his ef
forts to fool the batters. In spite of
this handicap, 1 have done fairly well
with that style of delivery, and I ex
pect to use it this season with consid
erable success.”
Catchers Are Born
Says Bowerman
For eleven years Frank Bowerman,
of the .New York Giants, has stood be
hind perspiring batsmen and wig
wagged signals to pitchers of various
degrees of e’fflciency. Ke has picked
inshoots and outshoots off the bats
until file knuckles on his hands are
the size of last year's acorns, and his
fingers, once straight and supple, are
curved like the prongs on a hook used
to extract cliakeis from a furnace
grate.
"I have caught al! manner of pitch
ers.” says Bowerman, "but the fellow
with speed who lacks in control is
the one who keeps me busiest and
makes me regret I was not born of
rich, but honest, parents. See that
enlarged forefinger? Well, that is a
small token of esteem given my by a
wild pitch one day In New York when
there were two men on bases.
"A successful catcher must use his
head as well as his hands and arms.
He must know the weak points of the
different batters, and signals the pitch
er which balls the batsman can hit and
which ones be is weakest in hitting.
He must be on tlie alert when a runner
is on first and try and guess on what
ball he will attempt to steal, so as to
signa! the pitcher to throw wide of the
plate and about shoulder high. Such
a ball can be quickly thrown to second
and increases the chances of nipping
the runner at that base.
“Successful catchers, like successful
pitchers, are born. They come by the
faculty of doing the right thing at the
right time naturally. Hard work will
improve a catcher of fair ability, but if
--I
■— --—__I
Charles F. Dooin,
Catcher of the Philadelphia National League Club.
Charles F. Dooin. catcher of the Philadelphia National League club, is a
native of Cincinnati. He started his career on the lots of that city about ton
years ago, when he became a prominent amateur player. He is 2S years old.
of a Etocky build, and one of the fastest and most accurate throwers that ever
stepped behind a bat. Doom's iirst proiessior.al engagement was with Indianap
olis in 1S98, but during the exhibition season he met with an Injury and was
released. His next experience was with Dubuque, from which club he went to
St. Paul. As Comiskey did not give him a cnance, lie went home in disgust
and did not play professionally again until 1>99. when he was with the St. Joe
club, of the western League. During the season of IMiu he was a member of
Julius Fleischmann's Mountain team. Doom was regarded as the star catcher
of the Western League in 1901 and his release was purchased trom St. Joseph
by the Philadelphia club in ]»C2, since widen time he uus been toat club's main
stay behind the bat.
whole lot worse than it would if i
played off to the side. On the other
hand, by playing it squarely, I some
times have a chance to recover the
ball and make the play, which is sel
dom possible when the ball is played |
to the side. From the standpoint of '
averages, I'm a fool, but I'm playing I
the game for Boston and not for Fer
ris, and Collins knows it, so I suppose :
l shouldn't bother.
"I got soaked with an error in the
first game in Detroit, which should
have gone to Parent. Detroit had men J
on first and third and the man on first
started to steal. 1 ran in close, as we
always do, to take the short throw,
but the man on third didn’t start, and j
Parent yelled to let the ball come ;
through for the play on the other !
man. I ducked and he missed the |
ball. I got the error, which is wrong, i
as Parent was covering the base.”
Why “Spit Balls”
Puzzle Umpires
Jack Chesbro has a grievance, and
it pertains to the celebrated "spit
ball.”
“I tell, you,” said -he, “that <a man
who tries to deliver the ‘qplt ball’ has
his-troubles with the umpires. Even
the best of them don’t seem to under
stand that delivery. Of course, the
tendency of the “feplt ball’ after it
leaves the pitcher’s hand is down
ward, and by the time it reaches the
batter it has a decided drop. Now, a
spit ball' that is started waist high
is apt to take a more pronounced
drop than one that is started higher,
it is the balls that I start low that
fool the umpires, especially when
they are umpiring behind the bat.
They seem to jump to the conclusion
that every ’spit' ball’ that is started
low is going to cross the plate below
the knee of the batsman, and it seems
the fashion of them to yell ’ball’ at
every one of them.
"Now, in order to test the matter,
last season I freque: *ly wet my fin- ;
gers as though preparing to send in a
‘spit ball,’ but never moistened the !
ball at all, and sent it in straight over i
the plate. I always started this ball I
low, and it never dropped an inch, j
but nine times out of ten the umpires. |
•be isn't to the manner Jjorn, he will
never be a. real top-aoicber.”
Mr. Bcwerman is about 36 years old
and makes his home tn Romeo. jh
Forty or 50 years ago he decib on
being born a good catcher, whic. ec
counts for his presence on the cham
pion baseball team of the world.
When Cooley Didn’t
Make a Home Run
An amusing story of old Dick Cooley
is told by Davy Jones, of the Tigers.
"I never saw a crowd laugh so hard
as it did in Chicago one day while
Dick was doing one ot his famous
sprints around the diamond for Bos
ton,” says Jones. "Dick was the first
man up in the game and he hit the
first ball pitched on a line out toward
my field. 1 sprinted for all i had in
me, going back-and oft to the side and,
as luck would have it, just got the
ball in one band. At tbs time Cooley
was busy turning first. He gave a
glance, saw I was still on the run—I
hadn't had time to slow down—and
dug for second, thinking certainly
.that the ball was .past me. Well, 1
saw the joke, and I kept running, too.
Cooley, turning second base, saw me,
far out in tbe field, throw the ball to
an Infielder, who was obviously go
ing to relay It In. Poor Dick passed
third and dug for tbe plate like a
wild man. He hit the dirt at the fin
ish, making an excellent slide ana just
beating the ball.
"And how the crowd did yell!
Cooley thought at first that they were
applauding him for bis great drive,
great sprint, and noble slide, but
some one put him next to what the
din meant, and he was grouchy for a
week.”
Diamond Gossip.
The Sioux City club has released
Pitcher Lindsay.
Umpire Phil Campau has been
dropped from the Eastern league staff.
The Indianapolis club has signed
Pitcher Leo Haftord, late of Cincin
nati.
Ex-Pitcher Eugene McGreevey has
been appointed an I.-I.-I. league um
ptre
Some men, as Mrs. Crispannen re
marked in a moment of exasperation;
just naturally "hen around.” It may
be inferred that to “hen around/
means to conduct one’s self after tho
manner of the domestic fowl men
tioned—that is, to fuss, to cackle un
necessarily, to betray undue excite
ment for a seemingly small cause.
Nevertheless it would hardly do Justice
to Crispannen to say that he belonged
to this happily small class. Mrs. Cris
pannen was, as has been said, exas
perated, and, being exasperated, she
exaggerated. Her husband did
concern himself rather too much with
what she wore, though.
"Say, what in the nation is tlfht
you’re wearing?” he would ask her.
"It's a dressing sack, my dear. Did
you think it was an ulster?”
"Oh, I know perfectly well that it’s
a dressing sack. But the material.
Great guns! Where did you get it?”
"The material Is dimity. I’d have
got a nice burlap or astrakhan if I
had thought you would have preferred
it. 1 got it at Swellit’s."
"Well, that's something of a surprise,
I must say. Anybody would suppose
you got it at a wall-paper store.”
"Don’t you really think it’s pretty?”
"Pretty! Well, it depends on what
you use it for. It might make an ef
fective bedroom wall covering, but—
what are those? Rosebuds? Rose
buds and garlands of forget-me-nots
on a pink-striped ground! Honest, I
thought you had taste, my dear.”
“That's a surprise to me. You never
seem to give me credit for any. I’m
sorry, though, if you don’t like it. I
thought you would. Mrs. Ferguson
thought it was awfully becoming.
She's going to get a couple made just
like it.”
She was trying to let you down
easy. She's a diplomat, that woman.
Well, it may be all right, but it’s go
ing to give me a jar ever time I look
at it. I wish you had shown me the
samples. By the way, Mrs. Fergu
son had on one of the daintiest, pret
tiest little dressing sacks I ever saw
the other morning. She was taking in
the ice at the back door and—’’
“What pattern was hers?” Mrs. Cris
pannen would inquire.
"Well, I couldn’t say, exactly, but it
was—”
“Wbat was the color?”
“I’m not quite certain. I saw her
only for a moment. I jiA. got a gen
eral impression of It. I think there
was some blue in it.”
That is a mild sample of the dia
logue that takes place whenever Mrs.
Crispannen springs something new—
something that her husband has not
approved of previously. He is appre
ciative of the garments that other
women wear, as in the case of Mrs.
Ferguson. He takes notice.
About three weeks ago Crispannen
looked up from the paper he was read
ing and observed that be had met Mrs.
Spurling on the way from the station.
Mrs. Crispannen did not show any
particular interest. Perhaps she sus
pected what was coming.
“You ought to have seen the coat she
was wearing,” said Crispannen.
“Tes?”
“I should say. It was a peach.
Weren't you talking about getting a
coat?”
"Well, I have been dinning it into
you for the last month or two. but
yon didn't seem to be very enthusb
astic about it and I’d almost given
it up.” said Mrs. Crispannen, with a
note of sarcasm in her voice.
“Get one.” said her husband, gen
erously. ’’You don’t need to talk
about it. Get one. Sec if you can’t
get one like Mrs. Spurling's.”
"What kind was it? But I don't
suppose it’s any use asking you. You
wouldn't know.”
“It’s a pity if I wouldn’t. It was
a sort of brownish-yellow—light.”
"Pongee?”
“Search me. Anyway, it was ali
puffed out in front and sort of belted
in and came down to about her knees
with a lot of lace about the collar.
There was style to it, I tell you.”
"James Totnam Crispannen!” ex
exclaimed Mrs. Crispannen. "That's
the very identical coat I was speaking
about, and you declared it was the
most hideous thing you ever say.”
"I never did.”
"You did, and I can prove It."
She went out of the room and re
turned with a fashion book, turned
its leaves rapidly and put a flngei
on a cut, with emphasis. “There!’
she said. "Pongee coat with blouse,
front girdled. Do you mean to say
I didn’t show you that and that you
didn’t say just what I said you did?”
Crispannen looked a littie sheepish';
but he said it wasn’t anything like
the one she had shown him.
"Is it like Mrs. Sporting's?”
Crispannen confessed that it was.
"And you think I would look well
in a coat like that?”
"I know you would.” said Crispan
nen, stoutly. “It would suit you down
to the ground."
“Very well, then. I'll get one if you
I want me to.”
A few days later she asked Crispan
nen how he liked the coat He sur
veyed it critically and was then gra
1 cions enough to say -that he liked it
pretty well. “But the collar isn’t the
same as the one Mrs. Spurllng had,”
hs objected.
“Indeed it is,” contradicted his wife.
"It’s the same collar and the same
coat exactly that Mrs. Spurllng was
wearing. I asked her to wear it toi
me and walk down toward the sta
tion the afternoon it was finished.”
Women play mean tricks on a man
once in awhile.—Chicago Daily News.
Would Spoil It All.
“Maybe your husband is a wee bit
jealous,” suggests the friend. “Maybe
he objects to your going to that sum
mer resort because he thinks yot»
might flirt with some of the men
there. Why don’t you tell him there
are no people there but women and
girls?”
“If I do that he will insist cn going,
too, at once.’ —Life.
Shrewd.
The burglars stole the perfume,
A rather strange event.
But Fetlock Hoimes went on the case
And traced them by the scent.
—Milwaukee Sentinel.