Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 174, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 July 1912 — HAPPENINGS IN THE CITIES [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

HAPPENINGS IN THE CITIES

Swordfish and Sharks Fight to Death

NEW YORK. —That hardiest of hardy ship news annals, the story of the deep sea quarrel between swordfish and whale—lt was a shark this time —reached port in good order the other day on board the stanch ship Caledonia. It was a calm and beautiful Sabbath morn at sea. The Caledonia plowing her way through a bottle-green ocean, was 60 miles due east of Montauk Point. Captain F. H. Wadsworth was on the bridge. Passengers and crew lazed idly on deck. All was peace and tranquility. Suddenly some one with keen eyesight espied the perennial commotion in the water just off the ship’s bows. All eyes at once peered seaward, expecting to be rewarded with a view of the usual death struggles between shark and sworflsh. To their utter amazement and delight, what should meet their wondering eyes but scores—aye, scores—of swordfish and sharks frolicking in friendly play about the ship! It was easy to see that they were making a splendid Sunday dinner of bluefish, mackerel, porgies, flounders,

young halibut and other well-known varieties. The Caledonia’s passengers said the swordfish averaged 20 feel, in length, and that, while the sharks were not quite as large as that they were Just as numerous. Having feasted on the tat of the sea, the monsters of the deep frolicked some more, darting hither and yon through the salt sea waves. Playfully, the swordfish ran their swords beneath the bodies of the sharks and tossed them high in the air, then deft ly caught them and repeated the performance. The sharks, in turn, took playful swipes at the swordfish and chased them all around the ship. This continued for an hour, when one of the swordfish erred in his judgment of distance and caught a shark on the point of his bony nose, piercing the* shark and ending his career then and there. With the death of their schoolmate, the sharks, becoming infuriated, taro* ed upon the swordfish, and the battle which iff accounts—was indescribably horrible. One particular pair of fighters were watched by Purser Johnston, who said that the sword of the great fish broke off in ramming the side of the-Cale* donia after missing a vicious thrust at his enemy. Before the swordsman of the deep could save himself by flight the shark had killed and begun to devour him.

Sorority Girls Read Their Bibles

DETROIT, Mich.—Sorority girls have taken to reading their Bibles. The sixth verse of Solomon's eighth song is that part of the Holy Scripture, holding for them toe greatest meaning. “Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm, for love is as strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave; the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame.” That’s toe verse fraught with a double meaning for each sorority co-ed who would peer into the future, and fine the name of her husband to be. How do they do it? Listen. First you get a small Bible. Then you get a door key and one-half yard of red twine. You open the Bible at the eighth chapter of Solomon’s songs and lay the key within (the Bible so that the round part of the key comes out over the side of the Holy book, and the other end just touches the word "heart.” Then you close the book and wrap it with the red twine. Then two girls support the book suspended by placing the tip of the third finger of the left hand under the round part of the key, never touching the book. A third person repeats the alphabet. A, B, C, and so on, and the key twists the

Bible around whenever the letter fck reached which spells the name of the “husband who Is to be." The while one must be repeating the verse quoted above. Last Sunday In the Eta Bits He sorority, three maids perched on the davenport In the living room. One was grave as an owl, for It was "her" fortune that was to be told. *: “A, B, C, D, B, F. G," tolled off the maid slowly, and the book hung suspended, motionless. “H" droned the maid, and, whiz, the key fairly turned Itself out of the girl’s hands. “He-he-he” giggled the maids and tried It again. In turn came the rest of the name “arryand as each letter was told off, there were more "hes, hes, hes, hes." Then began the last name, and letter after letter it spelled it output by that time it had grown too serious a thing to be giggled over.

Boys Bat Revenge On Gid Teachers

ST. LOUlS.—Eight young women <rf toe Hawthorne school in East St Louis, who have been teaching the young idea how to shoot, atjempted the other day to show how to play baseball. There is a dispute as to whether they succeeded, the teachers maintaining they were victorious by a “perfectly awful score,” and the unabashed boy pupils declaring, "aw 1 , dem biddies don’t know nuttin’ about de game.” The fans gave the decision to the boys. * A quiet little rumor to the effect the teachers would appear in bloomers brought out hundreds of fans. After toe women appeared in skirts the crowd showed a seemingly unjustified-

desire to kill the umpire toe rest of toe game. Ross Crenshaw, pitcher for the boys, shocked and pained toe women by throwing the ball over the plate just as hard as ever he could. The outfield lay down and rolled over when one of toe women indignantly asked “How in the world could anybody Mt a little old round ball when you throw ft real hard?” The game lasted three innings. When one of the young women was called “out” at second base, her teammates were a unit in declaring the decision faulty, prejudiced, out of order, ungentiemanly and reversible. When the umpire gently Inquired why they took that view of it, they) answered “because.” He wps up against ft and allowed' toe runner to return to second. The game was called off at the end of tha fourth inning because the women were afraid they would get hit with, the ball—because their clothes were* getting dusty—because they were tired, and —because.

How a “Dock” Waiter Served the Soup

BALTIMORE, MD.—Charles F. Mung phy, during the recent convention, deigned to breakfast in the main dining room of the Emerspn hotel. It was usually morp comfortable for r convention guests (if they had pull enough to get toe service) to dine in their room. But it was the quaint mood of Mr. Murphy to mingle with the masses. Mr. Murphy is one of the most scholarly looking person* in political life these days. He looks more like a college profeasor than Woodrow Wilson or George Harvey of the bar-rel-hooped spectacles ever did in their lives. Thus, then, be sat at one of the tables in the main dining room of the Emerson. Waiters were scarce bn Baltimore. A number of energetic, though unrefined, persons from the water front (more used to hand trucks and the bale hooks than toe napkin and toe MBs card) had been hired to fill toe emergency, and had been disguised in dress clothes. One of these, bearing a silver tureen

of beautifully red tomato soup, bore through the aisle of the tables along which sat Mr. Murphy. The waiter’s solar plexus and the shoulder of Mr. Murphy met in a head-on collision. The beautiful red tomato soup was spilled across Mr. Murphy’s coat just south ot and a few inches below his right ear. It was poured out with all the accuracy of a steam dredge discharging a bucket load of mud into adump car. But the dock front man met the crisis like a hero. He grabbed toe napkin from Mr. Murphy's lap and. scrubbed toe Tammany leader's shoulder with it “It's all right old pal,” be said soothingly. “It’s all right There’s no harm dons at *H, I’ll fly It ‘bo,’ ;*u fix ft-