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THE ATLANTIAN
21
Atlantic Ice and Coal Corporation
ATLANTA, GA.
BEST GRADES COAL
COAL PHONES 4332
WHOLESALE
AND
RETAIL
PUREST QUALITY ICE
ICE PHONES 549
PROMPT DELIVERY.
Office: Piedmont Avenue & Georgia R. R.
Phone Main 210
PARMER THOUGHTFUL OF
CLERK.
An amusing incident occurred in a
hotel a few nights ago, says the Phila
delphia Times. It appears that a far
mer from South Jersey, who was, un
usually ignorant of city ways, went to
the hotel with his son. The father re
tired early, but the son went out to ‘ ‘ sec
the town. ’ ’
At 12:30 o’clock the farmer went
down stairs and inquired of the night
clerk if the boy had returned yet. He
was told that no had not. The father
went back to his room. An hour later
he again appeared before the clerk and
said:
“Ilain’t Jack in yet?”
Again he was informed that the lad
was out. The old man made several
subsequent trips and still his boy was
among tho missing. Finally at 3:30
o ’clock the farmer trudged wearily down
the stairs and asked again if his boy had
returned.
‘ ‘ Waal, I guess he won’t come in, then.
Guess you needn’t wait up any longer.
WHY HE WAS PHILAN
THROPIC.
Some friends were engaged in conver
sation, when one of the party referred
to the fact an extremely wealthy old man
in the town had recently exhibited signs
of incipient philanthropy, says Pearson’s.
‘ ‘ Why, ’ ’ said the friend, ‘‘ do you
know that yesterday ho was taking
around a petition for the purpose of
raising funds to enable a poor woman to
pay her rent?”
“Oh,” said Woodruff, “I happen to
know all about that. You see, Blank
owns the house the poor woman lives in. ’ ’
JOY OF RAPID TRANSIT.
What’s worse on a car
When going real fast,
Than to look up and see
Your street going past?
—Youngstown Telegram.
What’s worse on a ear
In all this wide land,
Than paying your fare
And having to stand?
—Los Angeles Express.
What’s worse than a car
With passengers brimmin’,
And all smokers’ seats
Filled up with women?
—Johnstown Democrat.
What’s worse on a car,
When taking a nap,
Than to have a fat woman
Fall into your lap?
—Springfield Union.
What’s worse on a car
Than to hear tho “con” say,
“Your kid’s over six
And his fare you must pay?”
—New York Globe.
What’s worse on a car,
When it happens each day,
To ride with a friend
Who ne’er says: “Lot me pay?”
Tho soul of music slumbers in the shell,
Till waked and kindled by the master’s
spell;
And feeling hearts, touch them but
rightly—pour
A thousand melodies unheard before.
—Samuel Rogers.
SEEING THE COOK.
A wealthy society woman in Washing
ton, D. 0., had one of those domestic up
heavals which ended in her cook leaving
abruptly, says tho New York Times.
Guests were expected, no one to cook the
dinner—no results from telephoning, so
she sallied forth in quest of emergency
help. Meeting a very neat-looking col
ored woman she stopped her and explain
ed her dilemma, offering large money in
ducements. Tho woman listened in si-
leneo then said:
“Where does yo' live, missus?”
Seeing a ray of hope, joyfully the lady
gave her address to be met with this re
ply:
“Well, yo’ jess go home and look in
yo ’ glass an ’ you ’ll see yo ’ cook! ’ ’
TOMMY’S SURMISE.
Mr. Baldly—“Acs, Tommy, even the
hairs of our heads are numbered.”
Tommy (glancing at his father’s in
tellectual dome)—“Don’t take much
figgerin’ to get your number, docs it
pa ? ’ ’—Harper’s Weekly.
HE MIGHT HAVE THOUGHT
OF THANKSGIVING.
“While walking in the South a little
while ago,’’ a pedestrian writes, “I
came upon an old darky with a load of
hay. He was standing in the road,
scratching his head and looking worried
—oh, very worried.
“‘What’s the trouble, uncle?’ I
asked.
“ ‘Well, boss, I done fotched a load
of hay fer a man, and I bo blessed ef
1 kin rccolleck his name.’
“ ‘Knowing most of the people around
there, I asked: ‘What does his name
sound like?’
“ ‘Well,’ said uncle, ‘hit remind me
uv Chris’mus, Fo’th er July, an’ New
Year. ’
“ ‘Oh, I said, ‘you mean “Holli
day.” ’
‘ ‘ ‘ Yassir, boss, dat de ve ’y man.
Thanky, boss. ’ ’
“And away he went.”
REALISM.
During one of his presidential trips,
says Success, Air. Cleveland, accompan
ied by Secretary Olncy, arrived at a
town in a heavy storm, and they were
driven from tho station with hailstones
rattling on tho roof of their carriage.
A brass band, undismayed by the weath
er, bravely stuck to its post and played
tho welcoming airs.
“That is the most realistic music I
have ever heard, ’ ’ remarked Mr. Cleve
land.
“What are they playing?” asked tho
Secretary of State.
“ ‘Hail to the Chief,’ with real hail.”
EDUCATION INCOMPLETE.
The fellow who brags of his college
And all his great learning’s a bore;
The man who is “proud of his knowl
edge ’ ’
Is badly in need of some more.
—Catholic Standard and Times.
A woman and her daughter were at
sea during rough weather. After a si
lence of some time tho mother asked:
“Aro you seasick, dear?”
“No, I think not,” replied the daugh
ter, “but I’d hate to yawn.”