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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.”