The Atlantian (Atlanta, Ga.) 19??-current, November 01, 1912, Image 12

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

12 THE ATL ANTI AN SAVINGS Systematic Savings will elevate a person and change him from a creature of circumstance to a position in society with the respect of his fellows. This bank makes a specialty of savings ac counts, which may be started with as little as one dollar. We pay interest at the rate of 4 per cent, per annum, compounded semi-annually. Any amount deposited before the 10th month of the will draw interest from the first of that month. Start an account with the City Saving Bank at once and experience that feeling of self-respect and confidence which comes from being inde pendent. THE CITY SAVING BANK 15 E. ALABAMA ST. A CHANGE OP VENUE. “There’s a dead horse on Kosciusko Street,” announced a Brooklyn patrol man, coming into the station after his day on duty. ‘‘Well, make out a report,” ordered the sergeant. ‘‘Why, you make out the reports, dont’ you, Sergeant!” ‘ * I don’t. Make out your own reports. You’ve passed your civil service exam inations. ’ ’ Mike equipped himself with a pen and began scratching laboriously. Presently the scratching stopped. ‘‘Sergeant,” he asked, ‘‘how do you spell Koscuiskof” ‘‘G’wan. You’re writing that report.” An interval of silence, more scratching of the pen, more silence. Then: ‘‘Ser geant, . how do you spell Koscuisko Street T” ‘‘Stop bothering me,” the sergeant ordered. ‘‘Do you think I’m an infor mation bureau!” Pretty soon the patrolman got up, clapped on his helmet, and started for the door. ‘‘Where you goin’!” demanded the sergeant. ‘‘I’m a-goin ’, ’ ’ said the policeman, ‘‘to drag that dead horse around into Myrtle Avenue. ’ ’—Everybody’s Maga zine. CERTAINLY IT DID. ‘‘Did your watch stop when it dropped on the floor!” asked one man of his friend. ‘‘Sure,” was the answer. “Did you think it would go through!” INDISPUTABLE PROOF. Little Virginia, seven years old, re cently started to private school and is hearing many things about culture and refinement. Her mother is very careful about the children with whom Virginia plays, and wishes to know all about them before intimacy is permitted. The other day Virginia had been playing with some children. “What children!” asked mother. She was told of some new children that had moved into the neighborhood. “But,” said mother, “you know I have told you not to play with children unless I know them and say it is all right. I don’t know anything about these children.” “But, mother, they are perfectly cul tured and refined.” “How do you know they are cultured and refined!” asked the mother, amused. “Well, they have two automobiles in the family,” replied the little one with decision. HIS MATCH. Dr. Lyman Abbott is an anti-suffrag- ist, and many are the sharp shafts that, to speak figuratively, he plants quivering in the suffrage cause’s side. At a tea in New York, however, Dr. Abbott met his match in Mrs. Rose Pas tor Phelps-Stokes. “You are interested, I believe, mad am,” he said, “in woman’s rights!” “No; woman’s wrongs,” Mrs. Phelps- Stokes retorted. THE DAYS WE CELEBRATE. The ghost of Thanksgiving Day and the ghost of the Fourth of July met in that debatable land where spirits wander and brag. The Thanksgiving ghost was plethoric with turkey, and had the sanc timonious air of one who has overeaten himself in the cause of religion. The Fourth of July ghost was badly singed and smelt of gun-powder. He looked askance at the comfortable rotundity of his neighbor. ‘ ‘ After all, ’ ’ he observed sharply, ‘ ‘ you are not the national holi- j day. ’ ’ The Thanksgiving ghost smiled broad ly. ‘ ‘ Those fellows in Philadelphia j meant well, ’ ’ he said, * ‘ but they mistook ' their season. What do you feed on! j Ice cream and soda water. And you call yourself a patriot! ’ ’ ‘ ‘ I stand for a cause, ’ ’ said the Fourth of July. “I stand for consumption,” said Thanksgiving. ‘ ‘ Battles were fought in my name, ’ ’ j said the Fourth of July. ‘ ‘ Bottles are drain in my honor, ’ ’ | said Thanksgiving. “Hundreds of children are offered up; to me every year,” said the Fourth of July. “Thousands of turkeys lay down their lives at my shrine,” said Thanksgiving. “Orators shout my praises,” said the Fourth July. ‘ ‘ Preachers proclaim my goodness, ’ ’ said Thanksgiving. “I defied the British, and I fought them,” said the Fourth of July. “I stole from the Indians, and I kill ed them,” said Thanksgiving. “I scorch myself to assert the free dom of the people,” said the Fourth of July. “I gorge myself to prove their pros perity,” said Thanksgiving. ‘ ‘ I swear that I can never be beaten, ’ ’ said the Fourth of July. F. M. BULLOCH, ^Southern Railway. “I give thanks that I am not as other men,” said Thanksgiving. “You are a hypocrite,” said the Fourth of July. “You are a braggart,” said Thanks giving. Just then two other ghosts drew near. One of them looked uncommonly like C. J. DOBBS, Treasurer Lodge 302, Who Will Be Re-Elected to the Office Without Opposition. a scarecrow. 'The other wore a liberty cap and flaunted the tri-color. “There is Guy Fawkes Day,” said the Fourth of July. “There is the Fourteenth of July,” said Thanksgiving. ' ‘ How foolish in England to celebrate the discovery of a plot which never ex isted, ” said the Fourth of July. “How foolish in France to celebrate the destruction of a beautiful fortress by a mob,” said Thanksgiving. The four ghosts met, saluted, and went their ways. “I believe those for eigners were saying something deroga tory to our dignity,” said the Fourth of July. “Just like their impertinence,” said Thanksgiving. —Agnes Repplier. A JUST WAGE. An Indian being asked what he did for a living, replied: “Oh, me preach.” “Preach!” said the questioner; “what do you get for it?” “Sometimes me get fifty cents, some times one dollar. ’ ’ “Well, don’t you think that is mighty poor pay!” “Oh, yes,” slowly replied the Indian, “but it’8 mighty poor preaching.” The shortest life is long enough if it lead to a better one; and the longest life too short if it do not.—Colton.