Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 41, Number 83, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 July 1909 — HALF TRUE TALES OF THE STREET AND TOWN [ARTICLE]

HALF TRUE TALES OF THE STREET AND TOWN

Pretty Tough on Father. Although Mr. Jones was taken at his face value by his son and heir, there were times when the youthful William’s admiring tributes embarrassed his parent in the family group.

“I had quite an encounter as I came home tonight,” the valorous Mr. Jones announced at the tea table. “Two men slightly intoxicated, were having a quarrel on tha corner. As usuab, there was o policeman in sight; and they were in a fair way to knock each other’s brains out when I stepped between and separated them.” “Weren’t you afraid, father?” asked Mrs. Jones, in a quavering voice. “No, indeed. Why should I be?’" inquired Mr. Jones, inflating his chest. “I guess there isn’t anybody could knock any brains out of my father!” said Willie proudly. —o — Anna B. Dam and Charles I. Gosh were married in Dubuque recently, and those who heard the minister go through the marriage service said it sounded like a steamboat mate talking to the deckhands. —o — It is said that John Jacob Astor got his start in the world by dealing in skunk skins. There is something about skunk skins that will start almost anybody. —o — Few people realize how cheap postal rateVreally are. It developed in a breach of promise suit that the de-« fendant sent ten million kisses all in one letter bearing a single two cent stamp. When a woman earns money, it’s hers sometimes, but when a man earns anything, he is compelled to divide with his wife, his kin, his wife’s kin, the preacher, committee of forty and the bartender. —o—- “ You call this the up-to-date family Bible,” said the prospective purchaser “in what respect does it differ from the standard Bible?” “Well,” replied the book agent, “you will notice that it not only contains records of births, deaths and marriages, but divorces as well.” —o — It has been said that oil has been discovered under the Rockefeller’s building at Cleveland, O.; it is very likely that gas will be discovered under Mr. W. J. Bryan’s barn. —o—“I see that the Louitinia can steam her twenty-six knots an “hour,” said Smithers from his paper. His wife looked up from her knitting with a bright smile. “I suppose they steam the knots so that, the poor sailors can unite them more easily,” she observed tranquilly.

An old Irish woman whose son had Just joined the army was asked by an acquaintance how Pat looked in parade. “Fine! Fine!” exclaimed Pat’s mother. “Everyone in the army was out of step but Pat.”

“If you didn’t take so much interest in horses you would be better off,” snapped Mrs. Growler. “You have had horses on your brain all your life.”

“I suppose that is how I happened to marry a nag,” retorted Mr. Growler his face ambuscaded behind the sporting paper. —o —

“Pow'ful fertile country daown theh in Texas," said the colonel. “Yes, seh! Why, seh, I know spots daown theh where the trees grow so close togetheh thet you-all couldn’t shove youh hand between theh trunks. And game, seh! Why, seh, I’ve seen deeah in those same forests with antlehs eight feet spread! Yes, seh!” At this point some meddlesome idiot asked the colonel how such deer ever managed to get their antlers between such tree trunks.

“Thet, seh,’’ Baid the colonel, drawing himself up with squelching dignity, “is theh business!" —o —

“Yes,” said Mrs. Malaprop, “my boy is doing first rate at school. I sent him to one of those ailmentary schools, and his teacher says he is doing fine. He’s a first class sculler, they tell me, and is ahead in his class in gastramony,», knows his letter by sight, and can Bpell like one of those deformed spellers down to Washington.” “What’s he going to do when he grows up?” “He wants to be undertaker, and I'm declined to humor him, so I've told the confessor to pay special

intention to the dead languages,” said the proud mother. The colored parson had just concluded a powerful sermon on “Salvation am Free,” and was announcing that a collection would be made for the benefit of the parson afid his family. Up jumped an acutely brunette brother in the back of the church. - “Look a’ear, parson,” he interupted “yo’ ain’t no sooner done tellin’ us dat salvation am free dan yo’ go askin’ us fo’ money. If salvation am free, what’s de use in payin’ fo’ it? Dat’s what I want to know. An’ I tell yo’ p’intedly dat I ain’t goin’ to gib yo' nothin’ ’till I find out. Now———” “Patience, brudder,” said the parson. “I’ll ’lucidate: S’pose yo’ was thirsty and come to a river. Yo’ could kneel right down and drink, couldn’t yo’? An’ it wouldn’t cost yo’ nothin’ would it?” Oh, cou’se not. Dat’s jest what I ” “Dat water would be free,” continued the parson. “But s’posin’ yo’ was to hab dat water piped to yo’ house? Yo’ hab to pay, don’t yo’?” “Yas; but ” “Wal, so it is wid salvation. De salvation am free, but de piping costs. Pass de hat, deacon, pass de hat.” That was a swell event up at the Washington Heights inn the other might. Dan McGinnity, mine host of the hostelry, had just received a letter from Harold Foster, once of the Heights, but now of Brazil. “I always said he was a good old guy,” said Mr. McGinnity, thrusting a fresh set Of bottles across the mahogany. “Of course, I was a little sore when he blowed, leaving a tab of $47 here, but I always said he’d square things. Didn’t I?”

“You did not,” said those present. “You made public promise of crucifying Mr. Foster if you ever saw him again.” “Oh, well,” said Mr. McGinnity, petulantly, “mebbe ’I was stooed when I talked that way. I always had faith in Harold. And I was right. Listen to the letter he sends me:

” ‘Dear Dan,’ he says, ‘I know you thought I’d made a clean get away from that bar bill, but I ain’t. I inclose a bill. Pay my bar bill out of it, and send me a receipt, and then blow what’s left on a supper for the

gang,.” Mr. McGinnity produced the bill. It was for 1,000 reis, and looked very green and soft and nice. Mr. McGinnity purred intermitently as he gazed upon it. “I’ve already mailed him receipt”, said he, “and tonight we have eats and drinks on Harold.”

And they did. There isn’t anything that can be eaten on Washington Heights that wasn’t eaten there that night. The waiters dragged popping corks until they began to suffer from

the strain. It was the finest doings ever witnessed on the Hill. And the next morning Mr. McGinnity shoved the bill across the counter at his bank. “Gimmie the cash,” he said, palpitantly. The clerk did. Mr. McGinnity pouched just $1.09, and had to be removed from the counter by the watchman and shown the figures in the book before he would consent to believe.

“One of these days,” said Mr. McGinnity, malevolently, “I’m goin’ down there to the Brazil plate, and take that receipted bar bill away from that Foster cluck, and then I’m gona kill ’im.”

There are other ways of killing cats besides choking them to death on butter, declares Dr. Geo. McArthur, who is the lung specialist at Van Cortlandt hospital. And he acts on this conviction. One of McArthur’s pets is an old hotse who can’t trot fast enough to keep warm on a hot day in August, but who at one time possessed the lines that mark a thoroughbred. Dr. McArthur took this equine joke out for a saunter the other day, and eventually landed at a hotel in Yonkers. “I’d never have thought it," he said finally, with a shake of his head. “How dd you manage to do it?” “Do what?” asked McArthur,' petulantly. “Keep him on his feet,” said the hotel man. “Marvelous—marvelous.”

McArthur doesn’t mind 'joking about that horse himself, but he hates to have other people do it. “That nag is twenty-nine years old, and he can cover a mile today in less than three minutes,” he declared.

The hotel man said that he had a horse that was forty-eight years old, and could trot rings around the McArthur quadruped. The dispute ended as such disputes always do. A bet of $25 was made, add each posted the

money. The btHel man brought out his horse. “Mind you,” said McArthur, “I didn’t say this horse would trot jin three minutes. I said he’d cover a mile in that time."

The hotel man agreed. And % then got out a hypodermio syringe, dropped a tablet into it, and called for a spoonful Of water. The old horse leaned against him cosily while McArthur emptied the gun against his side. Then he shot the needle into him far enough to make the old nag wince.

“Here,” said the man angrily, “I won’t race my horse against a doped plug. No tellin’ how fast that old rack of bones could travel when he is full of hop.”

McArthur just grinned. The hotel man grew so heated about it that the bet was finally called off, and in his gratitude the boniface insited upon giving McArthur his dinner. After the meal McArthur got into his buggy to start off. The old horse lay down in the shafts and dropped into the dreamless of age. “It’s the reaction,” said McArthur, solemnly. “Here, doc,” said the hotel man, reaching into his pocket. Take ten dollars. I oughter give it to you for hettin’ me off.” And McArthur had to reluctantly tell him the truth to keep from taking the money. Kitselman Bros., owners of the Kitselman wire fence factory and the Indiana steel and wire mill, at Muncie, are at work on the construction of an addition to their fence plant that will give employment to fifty additional men and that will run the total number of employes in that factory to 450.

The Knights of Pythias lodge of Decatur, will build a new $15,000 home on their lot on Third street, this summer. The new structure will be a two-story brick building and will be fitted with every modern convenience. The lower floor will be occupied by club rooms, while the second story will be used for a lodge room.

Richard Conn, a machinist of Columbus, Ind., says he has not tasted water for 20 years. His reason for not drinking water are that the liquid is not fit to drink and he gets along very well without it. He does not drink any sort or liquid at meals and says he never perspires. _ In spite of the fact that he has not taken a drink of water in the time mentioned he has been in good health, and says he never has the slightest desire to take a drink. Get DeWitt’s Carbolized Witch Hazel Salve when you ask for it. There are a great many imitations, but there is just one original. This salve is good for anything where a salve is needed to be used, but it is especially good for Piled. Sold by all druggists.