Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 195, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 September 1917 — INTERESTING ITEMS FROM THE CITIES [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

INTERESTING ITEMS FROM THE CITIES

Human Automaton Hypnotized Fellow Passenger CHICAGO.— Home from the country by car—choo-choo: On a front seat, ■ couple of tobacco-quid farmers arguing potatoes. Behind them a sma man in a duster exposing the shallow trickeries of a prize pac age o g •

Sitting around in spots, job-lot humanity that included ribbon-bow youngsters and fat-jowled- babies with mothers attached, and —off to herself —a woman in a mourning shawl and crepe veil —both rusty —who sat ,up with ramroddy stiffness, wagging a fan between shabby kidded fingers and slowly shaking her head, right-left, rightleft—just like that —right-left, right — Back of everybody a plain, deserving soul who had skidded off for a week-end in the bright hope that a

patch of plney woods with the bay in front and truly clabber-and-egg pone would etiable a certain person to keep on digging dime-value intelligence out of a nickel’s worth of brains without having to use a pickax. And she was on her way home, still sniffing briny breezes spiced with cones, when—she noticed the woman with a head. ® Then she tried to read her magazine. Then she gazed out of the window. Then she looked again at the woman who was shaking her head; right-left, right-left; on and on, and on You have curious and entirely foolish and likewise impertineht wonderings at sight of a head like that: Had it been swaying with slow relentlessness all the years that her hair was changing from the brown of girlhood to the gray wisps of age? Did it roll restlessly on her pillow the night long? And wotild it stop when she was dead? a You can’t say one word against Mr. Mesmer! The psychic somethlng-or-other that he gave his name to so hypnotized the woman that when a comrade welcomed her at the station the first word she said was: “Hello, Ann! What are you shaking your head for?” Pat Wasn’t Exactly Poor, but Had His “Wants” MACON, GA. —Wold came to some charitably disposed persons that the high cost of living had hit Uncle Patsy Rutherford, a negro man, and his aged wife, Aunt Jane, so hard chat the wolf was right at the door of their little cabin on the Charlton bottoms.

near Macon, Ga. So they got a big car and went out as a relief party. “Yes, ’m,” Aunt Jane said as she came out from her shanty to receive her guests, “Patsy’s been complainin’ awful ’bout these ha’d times. Ole man ’most frets hisself to death, he does.” “Where is Uncle Pat, today?” asked a member of the party as he lifted a well-filled basket from the car. “Down on the river flshin’; never seed such a man to fish. He caught

a ten-pound buffalo yist’day, an’ lot o’ small fries—more’n we needed an’ we divided with the neighbors.” She looked as though she felt generous. “Fish are good eating,” remarked a Samaritan wistfully. “Yes;”~admitted Aunt Jane, “an’ So’s young rabbits and squirrels—there e a heap of ’em in the woods now, an’ when the ole man ain’t fishin lies huntin’. I looks after the garden. We got onions an’ lettuces an’ ’taters an cabbages ’nuff to sen’ to the army. Would you folks like to take some home wid yo’?” and she started to show vyhere her garden treasures were staked ° Ut “Look here, Aunt Jane," said the . puzzled emissary tothedown-and-outers, “we heard you folks were hard up and we came to help*yoU out, but If ” “It’s Pat dat’s hard up,” the old woman explained. “Never seed a maa complain so.” i “Complain ! And you giving food to the neighbors? .... .. “Yes sah he’s always complainin’, Pat is; since the legal auction ’lection he can’t get no mo’ beer an’ —is you-all Well, Is bilged to yo for callin’. I’ll tell Pat yo’ was heah. Good mawnin’.” His Occupation Was “Chatting With Mermaid” I NDIANAPOLIS.—He sat on a rock and talked to a mermaid. That was the 1 regular job of Axel Thrain, alias Walter Marlow, according to his w fe, who lives at 729 Rochester avenue. Thrain gave up this ideal summer voca-

tion recently, however, largely because his wife objected and the story cropped out in juvenile court. “What does your husband do?” Judge "Lahr asked the wife when she had detailed a list of alleged wrongs. “He sits on a rock and talks to a merry maid —”, “Talks to what?” the court demanded, while a broad grin overspread the face of the husband. “Talks to a merry maid or mere

maid, or something like that,” was the reply. “You see, judge; my husband is an actor and that was his part in the show.” The court cocked its head owl fashion and voiced a deep “Ahem I" “Oh, I begin to understand,” the court replied. Then the wife went on to explain she was not jealous of hdr husband nor did she begrudge him his tete-a-tetes with the sea-going creature, since that was his part in the show with which he traveled. She declared, however, he apparently was so engrossed in his conversation with the painted daughter of Neptune ttyit he forgot to provide for his wife and child. It was disclosed also that Thraln registered for conscription under his stage name of Marlow, but his attorney insisted been no Intent to evade the call for military service. When ho was permitted to talk, the husband said he had broken off the chat with the mermaid and .was working for a patent belt company. He was released on his promise tt) pay $5 a week for the support of his child and provide a home for his wife, and the case was taken under advisement for 60 days. ! , ' Cool Bath Not Appreciated by New Yorkers wTRtv YORK. - —Two street cleaners with a fire hose were the unwitting cause W of thrusting Broadway and Wali street into a particular brand of fame, and stenographers coming out of the surrounding office buildings added the touch of art and color as well. The

street cleaners were in the act of flushing Broadway. Suddenly the street cleaner holding the nozzle lost control of it and it flopped out of his hands. For three minutes Broadway and Wall street had the liveliest and funpiest session that busy section has seen in many months. * . The hose wrlggWd about on the pavement like a great serpent and the heavy brass nozzle, spouting a torrent

of water, switched Impartially from one side of Broadway to the other. The hundreds of pedestrians ’ ran into office buildings, bank doorways and down into the subway. The nozzle, lashing the pavement in every direction, sent water over the monuments in Trinity churchyard, against the windows of banks, and wet the clothes of those who were slow in finding refuge. The street cleaners became confused and forgot t<x turn off the water at the hydrant, but, with the crowd, sought safety. The excitement continued for three minutes, until someone dared the torrent and ran t<\ the hydrant, shutting off the stream. The We ceased to wriggle, and among ?the h y“ dre who-returned to the sidewalks there were scores who had been wet through to the skin. Many of them were girls.