Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 111, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 May 1910 — GOOD SHORT STORIES [ARTICLE]

GOOD SHORT STORIES

The world-famous conductor, Dr. Hans Richter, is a man of many likes and dislikes, and had very abrupt manners when engaged in his work. At a rehearsal some time ago the conductor was much annoyed at the calm way the players were taking the impassioned music. “Gentlemen, gentlemen," said he, stopping short, “you’re all playing like married men, not like lovers.” • Thackeray, anxious to enter Parliament, stood for Oxford, thinking be might win the seat from Lord Monck, who then represented it. Meeting his opponent in the street one day, Thackeray shook hands with him, had a little talk over the situation and took leave of him with the quotation, “May the best man win!” “I hope not,” said Lord Monck very cordially, with a pleasant little bow. A hotel keeper near New York city is a Frenchman, and his family know little more about English than he does. His suburban hotel stands irf the center of a square filled with -large trees. When— the proprietor wanted to cqll attention to this advantagehe put on his cards, “The most shady hotel around New York.” The reputation of the place is beyond reproach and the proprietor does not know yet why so many persons smile when they read the line quoted. Chairman Koskiatowsky of the congressional committee on immigration, rapped that body to order (according to Lippincott’s Magazine). “We will naw hear those who desire to speak on the new bill for the restriction of immigration;” he announced. Where" upon Messrs. Amazuma, Hip Lung, O’Laughlin, MacDougal, D’Eauvre, Schwartzenfest, Spagaroni, Kumar Ghosh and Navarrez made Eloquent talks in favor of putting up the immigration bars, so as to preserve the purity of the great American race. Mr. John Jones spoke in favor of opening the doors to all, but he roundly hissed as’ being un-American. The bill was favorably reported. Senator Tillman became reminiscent one stormy day: “Yes, this is bad weather. It is nothing to London, though. Once, on a dripping water day in London, a sulphur-brown or pea-soup fog in the air, and everybody drenched to the skin, I sat on a bus top beside a Parsee in a red fez. When the Parsee got off, the driver of the bus, touching his hat with his whip, said to me: ‘Would you mind tellin’ me, sir, what sort o’ chap that is?’ ‘He’s a Parsee,’ said I. ‘An Indian, you know; a sun worshiper.’ 'Worships the sun, does he, sir?’ said the wet and shivering driver. ‘I suppogp he’s come ’ere to ’ave a rest?’ ” Richard A. Ballinger, secretary of the interior, tells of his first law oase which he had at Kankakee, 111. “I had hung out my shingle a good while before any client arrived,” he said. “Finally, one came. He was a weak, meek being whom three determined women had wedded in rapid succession, and he was being tried for bigamy. As all of the wives appeared against him we lost the case, and he got a term of two years, but? this did not seem to worry him —in fact, he seemed anxious for more. He was taken to the penitentiary, and just before his term ended I got a letter from him. ‘Do you think,’ the bigamist asked anxiously, ‘it will be safe for me to come out?’ ”