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VOLUMT. TWO
HUMBER THIRTY-FIVE.
WHAT WE THINK OF WHAT WE SEE
Uy A. E. FA FIS A UR, Flanaginn Editor.
A foreigner visiting this country has criticised
the American women on the ground that they hurry
too much. We are at a loss to know where he got
that idea. Perhaps he saw them on their way to
a bargain sale. If he had ever waited for one to
dress for the theatre, he would have a different opin
ion. He has never heard of that inmate oi an
American asylum who went around all day mutter
ing 11 Thirty-one; Thirty-one; Thirty-one.” He had
gono mad buttoning his wife’s shirt wasits, which
had just that number of buttons up the back.
Our Uncle Andy Carnegie has specified just what
constitutes respectability. He says:
“There is no better test of a respectable member
of society than a bank book showing a good balance
or title deeds to a house or farm unencumbered by
debt. ’ ’
There is some dissatisfaction expressed at this
mling in certain quarters. A contemporary has
gone so far as to cite as authority the following:
“Andi he called unto him the twelve and began
to send them forth by two and two.
“And commanded them that they should take
nothing for their journey, save a staff only; no
scrip, no bread, no money in their purse.”
But it is evident, as we have heretofore remark
ed, that times are changing and that standards of
respectability are shifting with them.
n n
There are people who are in favor of all kinds
of laws now in force, such, for instance, as the laws
against murder, arson and carrying concealed wea
pons, and they believe firmly in the efficacy and
justice of such laws, notwithstanding the fact that
the crimes against which they are directed are still
being committed here and there. They are opposed
to a prohibition law, however, because it “won’t
prohibit.” They do not want the law, because they
foresee that there will be violations of it. No law
will ever totally prevent crime, but the honest and
persistent attempt to enforce it will lessen crime.
We have heard of a conversation between a minis
ter and a policeman which illustrates the point.
In a certain town there had been a large number of
burglaries, and not a single burglar had been cap
tured. A minister met a policeman in the street
and could not refrain from mentioning the subject.
“What a number of burglars there are about!”
he said. “Why don’t you officers arrest them?”
The policeman looked solemnly at the minister and
then replied: “Sir, there are thousands of people
going to Hell every day. Why don’t you ministers
stop them?”
A story related by a Northern minister who spent
last Winter in the South for the benefit of his health,
discloses the fact that owing to conditions among
•TLANTA, GA., OCTOBER 24, 1907.
the colored brethren, although the laborer be
“worthy of his hire,” it behooves him at the same
time to take sensible precautions.
The minister in question was not idling away his
holiday, but was pursuing the work of his church
with his accustomed vigor among the white residents
of the section wherein he was sojourning. He de
voted considerable time to observation of the con
ditions among the colored people. One morning
while driving along the public road the minister
met a negro preacher of the neighborhood, of whom
he had seen but little, but whose confidence he had
apparently already won. The negro was what is
commonly known as a “locus” preacher. The con
versation between the two fellow shepherds began
upon the weather and naturally drifted to religion.
“Tell me something of your work,” said the
white minister. “Do you take notes for your ser
mons ? ”
“Wa-al, no,” cautiously admitted the brother in
black. “I useter be guilty ob dat, fo’ a fact, but
I’se learned by ’sperience an’ I have refawmed.
Since I cum to know dese niggers at dere rale worth,
I ’quires de cash. Notes is no good roun’ heali.”
Times have changed considerably since the days
of George Washington. The majority of people
have recognized that fact, but an Italian of New
York City has had to be taught it rather severely.
Pasquale Rosaka chopped down a small cherry tree
in Dyker Park, intending to carry it home for fire
wood. He was arrested and arraigned before Mag
istrate Steers. In response to the question as to
his guilt or innocence of the charge against him, he
said:
“I no tella da lie, boss. I choppa da tree down
witta me hatch.”
There was no reduction for honesty, and he was
fined ten dollars. He paid it in high disgust, mut
tering :
“Georga da Wash no tella da lie and gitta da pat
on da back. Ino tella da lie and gitta stung good.”
Which teaches the moral that a good get-a-way for
today may not work at all tomorrow, and that the
wise man keeps guessing.
I? H
Mr. Fairbanks, Vice President of the United
States, better known as “Buttermilk Charley” to
the coarse and vulgar herd, has suffered much on
account of the announcement that he served cock
tails at a dinner given to President Roosevelt in
Annapolis some time ago. The incident has been
discussed in all the papers of the country, both
secular and denominational, and has caused Mr.
Fairbanks much embarrassment. Up to the time
of the dinner, Mr. Fairbanks was very prominent
in the affairs of his church, but there were very
grave doubts expressed as to his suitability as a
delegate to a certain conference, owing to the cock-
tail episode. It was not alleged that he had him
self indulged in this vicious beverage; nobody, so
far as information went, had actually swallowed
a* cocktail; no breath had been detected after the
dinner bearing the tell-tale aroma; even cloves were
not in evidence. The whole trouble was that cock
tails were served. Various explanations have been
made by well meaning friends of Mr. Fairbanks.
A prominent religious paper stated “on the highest
authority” that “an intimate friend of the fam
ily” ordered the cocktails without the Vice-Pres
ident’s knowledge and “in violation of his Method
ist habits.” This sounded a little odd, but we are
at last reassured. We learn that the cocktails were
not the seductive kind that cheer and, alas, ine
briate. They were simply oyster cocktails See
this earnest letter, printed in The Sun of the 14th
instant:
“To the Editor of The Sun—Sir: All this non
sense ab mt cocktails at Mr. Fairbanks’s house
arose from lhe fact that they were oyster cocktails.
A waitress in the house, who is now visiting me,
says so. J. B. D., Jr.
“Providence, October 12.’*’
Now. That fixes everything up all right, and we
are glad; so glad.
A story told by a lawyer as one of his personal
experiences is related in the Kansas City Times.
This is it:
“A woman came into my office one afternoon
and said she wanted to see a lawyer on a rather im
portant matter. She was very calm and self pos
sessed.
“ ‘What can I do for you?’ I asked.
“ ‘Well,’ she said in an easy tone, ‘my husband
■was hurt in the wreck the other day.’
“I noticed that she was dressed in mourning, but
from her indifferent tone I gathered that it had no
connection with her husband’s accident.
“ ‘Was your husband badly injured?’ I asked.
“ ‘Yes,’ she answered in the same quiet voice,
‘He got his head cut off.’ ”
Now we fail utterly to see any point or any fun
in that story. The facts, when the story is boiled
down, are as follows: A most respectable lady,
dressed in mourning, entered an attorney’s office
and stated that, owing to the fact that her husband
had suffered injury in a railway wreck, she wished
to consult a lawyer. In response to inquiry, she
further mentioned that her husband’s injury con
sisted in the loss of his head. Now what is there in
this tragic story to provoke mirth? What is there
to wonder at? If a lady’s husband has his head cut
off, she at once, and almost automatically, as it
were, becomes a widow. Then why on this earth
should she not wish to consult an attorney? We are
disgusted with some of the alleged funny stories '
that are given space in cur papers.
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