Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 37, Number 51, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 July 1905 — CONDENSED STORIES. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

CONDENSED STORIES.

Why Ke me 11'v Understudy Did Not Report For Duty. Charley Davis, the theatrical manager, has had many peculiar experiences during his long and varied career, says the St. Louis Globe-Demo-crat. One of them occurred while h n was, acting as manager for the late John Kernel!, the well known Irish comedian. Kemell had many lovable traits; but, like some other “good fellows,* 1 he was often his worst enemy and would go on a racket just when he was needed to go

upon the stage. While the company was in an eastern city Manager Davis ran across a very bright young man, who was engaged as the understudy for Kernell. In less than a week after that, just as the curtain was about to be rung up, the manager cried out, “Where is Kernell?” A member of the company, who was standing near by, said, “I’m afraid that John has gone out to paint the town red.” Quick as a flash Davis cried out: “All right. Where is his understudy ?” The man looked up in a melancholy way and said: “I am sorry to say that Mr. Kernell’s understudy has gone out with him to assist in painting the town.” Davis was furious, and he exclaimed hotly: “Well, I suppose that hereafter when we engage an understudy it will also be necessary to hire an understudy for the understudy.”

No Use Dodging. Lute Morse tells a story about a green recruit from the old sod who was walking with his brother through a railroad cut on a pleasant Sunday afternoon. When a train came up behind them and whistled the experienced Irishman clambered up the bank, while his brother struck oil down the track as hard as he could run, only to be overtaken and tossed forty rods by the cowcatcher. The brother rushed to his side and shouted: “Moike, are ye hurted?” “Sure! I’m killed entirely.” “Why didn’t ye climb the bank ?” “Well, if I couldn’t bate it on the level,” snorted the wounded Irishman, “how the divvel could I bate it climbing hills ?”■—Nebraska State Journal. Appropriate. Once during his second term Cleveland was asked to speak at a function in a certain town, and when he arrived at the depot the wind was blowing a gale, sleet was driving and hailstones nearly as large as marbles were fiercely falling. Of course the inevitable brass band was there, and at the sight of the president the performers struck up with all the strenuosity at their command. “That is the most realistic music I ever heard,” remarked Cleveland. “What are they trying to play?” asked Secretary Olney, who accompanied him. “Hail to the Chief!” replied the ? resident, with a cheerful smile.— hiladelphia Ledger. Th* Difference. Commissioner Woodbury of the New York department of street cleaning tells this anecdote of a friend of his who was walking through Central park one >day. Being in somewhat of a hurry, he started to cut across the grass at one place, but was stopped by a park policeman, who remonstrated with him. “What difference does it make?” asked the New Yorker. “The grass is half dead anyway.” “Sure, an’ what if it is?” responded, the indignant guardian of the peace. “Sure, an’ if yez had a sick friend would yez be tdkin’‘a walk on his atomach?”—New York Times.

“ALL RIGHT. WHERE IS HIS UNDEBSTUDY?"