Newspaper Page Text
1
L.
BIST HUMOR, MOVING
PICTURES, VAUDEVILLE.
SUN
MERICAN
ATLANTA, GA„ SUNDAY, AUGUST 24, 1913.
There’s a Way lo Reach
the Homes ol the People
It is through the
Want- Ad Col
umns of the
• •
• •
SUNDAY AMERICAN
and ATLANTA GEORGIAN
What Is Life But a Gamble?
By T. E. Powers, the Famous Cartoonist.
l*ia. hr tk* BUM Ui^ibj QrMt BrtUlB SUghXM IUwn«l
“Why I Sent My Wife to the Country”--
0»pjTlffct. 1918* br th* ®Ur (VmrpBny Graftt Britain Wjrtit* R*e*rr*4.
By Fred. Duprez, One of
Vaudeville’s Merriest
Monologists.
W HEN I first went to call on what I now have for a wife 1 was
followed up to the door by a fellow, and I turned around and said
something like this: "Well, who in the world can that be?"
Just now I dare that fellow to cross my path and offer his congratulations
I'd annihilate him.
During the old sofa days wife said she wanted to marry me because
of my voice—which doesn't cut much figure these days, now that I've
learned to love, honor and obey my master's voice. You see. there has
been a little controversy over the statistics of my voice. Some people
have said “fine" and others "Imprisonment.” Take this leader here to
night—he's sore on my voice because he hasn't had any supper. Couldn t
find the corkscrew. I must go and do a little shopping myself presently.
ven 1 am thirsty.
Now, a little recitation as a prelude to the wife stuff. Bill was all
e in the burning house, except for the hungry presence of his only
and child. It was plainly a case of jump out of the window and
k his very record or stay with his wife and be roasted The flames
. growing ever and anon more flamish. Someone must die, for the
ouse was all of three blocks away, and Bill knew that although the
sen fully expected to attend his fire they had not yet finished curry-
bing their horses. Bill's red hair grew more fiery as he became hotter
, r the collar and the walls and floors of the burning house were
ing away beneath his feet. It was all too terrible, this fire^ But did
falter? Not he. Did he leave his wife and child to die.' \es.
But they refused to die. However, had it not been that they had
r hose so hand-y. it would have been on their feet. Fire s out.
The next business before the house Is. Do married men make the best
>ands? How should 1 know, in all my youth, beauty and innocence?
Because I should. I'm married. Marriage Is a necessity. So is Jail.
If I don’t look happy, that’s my business. I've been married for four
years, and It doesn't seem like more than twelve. Before 1 married dearie
1 held her hands for three hours. If 1 had let go she would have killed me.
I met the partner of my joys down the rocky road of life's bottomless
pit at Rockaway Beach. Introduced to her by a man to whom I owed
five dollars Believe me, he’ll never get the five. But it was a funny
thing—do you know, the more 1 saw of her the better I liked her? No,
you’re wrong.
She looked very well In the water, especially when she was in up to
her neck. The only way she could Improve her appearance was to go
in deeper. Still, she looked a little better out of the water, when she was
fully upholstered.
Here's where the romance crowds In One day she got a little too far
out and 1 rescued her. Well, lots of times it doesn't pay to be a hero.
Father saved mother from drowning, too, and I know now why he didn’t
want me to take swimming lessons.
But 1 love every hair on her dresser, just the same. And she has, oh,
such beautiful teeth—both of them. I spent a dollar ten while 1 was down
at Coney Island with her last night. Would have spent more, but that’s
all she had.
I’ll never forget the night I went to propose to her She knew what
was coming, all right, and led me to the rustic bench in the garden. We
were supposedly very comfortable, but In truth 1 was feeling rather an
noyed because I was sitting on a very unaccommodating grapevine, with
burrs on it. She. of course, in all the glory of her upholstery, didn't feel It
Well, we sat there, without saying anything at all, and finally one
word led up to another, and then suddenly 1 looked right at her in her
good eye and said, "Kitten"—I used to call her ‘'Kitten” because she was
one of a litter of twins—I said, “Kitten, do not for a moment allow me to
stand in the way of your marrying me.”
That was all there was to the rustic bench stuff, so 1 next went to
see father. You see, a wedding in a family is a big event to father. It
sometimes gets him a home. Anyhow, father and I had been boozing
friends together, so I didn’t fear him—not I.
We had a lovely wedding trip, and, do you know, it was so restful
for me. I let her carry the valise all the time, because I didn’t want folks
to think we d just been married.
I can't see what It Is that makes young fellows fear marriage. Before
I was married I didn't know what fear waa.
Married life wouldn't be so bad for me If It hadn't been for the fact
that Kitten had joined the Sisters of Sarsaparilla. She says that In these
days of thunder and enlightenment a girl wants a spouse, not a souse.
She never tasted beer, so she can’t see why I want It. Says it makes her
shudder every time I come home in charge of beer. But 1 think she says
that just for a blind.
I often expostulate with Kitten on this subject. She claims that the
only way one can cure oneself of this hateful habit is to eat an apple every
time one gets thirsty. Well, of course, apples aren’t bad eating, but I
can’t eat forty or fifty every day.
Far be it from me to knock Kitten’s cooking, for it has saved our
house from being robbed on sundry occasions. The other night, burglars
—three full-size burglars—broke into the pantry. They ate, but died
while struggling to get to the open air. Our pantry Is the safest and
surest way for anyone with suicidal intent. We still keep the trap set in
tne pantry, but we ourselves take our meals out,
Hie Week-Enders
NO. 5—WITH THE JIBBOOMS AT SQUALLVILLE, L. L
By LEWIS ALLEN.
Osimus*. i»is. hr ttu w.r oonpui; arM amt*, twu — , m
j ^ ^QTTALLVTLLE!" shouted the conductor, and Hunter and Mrs.
I ^ Hunter and little Willie alighted from the train.
A red-faced man, wearing a yachting cap, white flannel trousers
I and Jersey greeted them,
j It was Mr. Jibboom.
“Heave your bags right on the porch and hurry," said Jibboom and,
without going Into the cool s d Inviting bungalow at all. he rushed tho
Hunters down to the wharf where, some hundred yards from shore, a
little sloop lay at anchor. Mrs. Jibboom wag just rowing back to shore
in the dingy.
She waved a welcome to them. She wore a short blue flannel skirt,
white canvas shoes and a sweater. As she reached shore she sized up
Mrs. Hunter with a hit of annoyance.
"'My dear,” she said, “that nice new white percale and those satin
shoes and that chiffon hat—why did you dross up?”
“Why I thought”
"You know we positively live on our yacht”——
"What’s the yacht, Paw?" asked Willie.
"Oh, that will be all right,” said Mrs. Hunter, who would have given
five dollars to have been able to swat Hunter with something, he grinned
so fiendishly at her.
"Tide’s getting lower every minute, don't dare take Aphrodite In,
Aphrodite’s the yacht,” explained Mrs. Jibboom.
One by one they were rowed out to the yacht. Willie made It with
out an accident. Hunter slipped getting over the gunwale and scraped
his shin. He said something that made Willie giggle and Mrs. Hunter
offered her opinion of anyone who would teach an Innocent boy to use
such language.
Then they up anchor and started. There was a fair breeze, but being
inshore, Jibboom had to tack.
"Look out,” he yelled, "we’re coming ’round!"
The boom swung over sharply.
“Ouch!” remarked Hunter.
The boom took him In the head and his hat sailed In a circle and
floated out to sea.
“Here's an old cap," said Jibboom, laughing.
Hunter put it on.
“Ouch!” he repeated. He removed the cap and looked at It.
“Oh, I forgot. I stuck some smelt hooks In the band to keep from
losing 'em.” laughed Jibboom.
Hunter soothed his gouged forehead with his handkerchief.
"If Aphrodite makes the point all right, we ll get away In time,” said
Jibboom, anxiously.
"Oh, I know "bout her,” chimed In Willie, "she's a woman what comes
up on the beach without nothin' on”
"Where have you been taking that boy?" sternly demanded Mrs.
Hunter.
“I seen a pitcher of her In a book,” added Willie.
"He meant Aphrodite. He’s been reading tales from mythology," said
Hunter, indignantly.
Jibboom laughed. Then he scowled. With the sinking of the sun
the wind died down, the sails lost their tautness and flapped uselessly.
“We must make the point,” muttered Jibboom, and he and Hunter
took the oars and tried to propel Ahprodtte. There was fifteen minutes
strenuous work. Hunter was about all in Then there came a gentle
thud and Aphrodite would go no further. Five minutes later she was
sitting calmly on a mud flat, with half a mile of water between her and
the shore and the whole Atlantic between her and Europe, which was the
nearest land due east.
"Dash it all. If that fool train hadn't been ten minutes late we’d a
made It, now we ll be here until about two o’clock to-morrow morning!”'
'"Thafll be nice,” said Hunter.
'TU get supper, then we’ll play bridge. The time will soon pass and
the moonlight Is delightful," said Mrs. Jibboom.
A minute later she emerged from the tiny cabin and asked Jibboom
for the matches.
"In Che match box,” he said.
"None there," she replied.
He felt In his pockets. So did Hunter. They both felt In their
pockets one hundred and eighth-four times. There were no more matches
there the 184th time than on the first time.
And so they had sardines and bread and butter.
Hunter wanted to smoke. He chewed eleven cigars from stem to
stern without a smile. A cooling breeze came up, blowing from shore. It
brought out a swarm of mosquitoes. Willie went to sleep on a cushion.
They started to play bridge. On the second hand a gust of wind
took seven cards off the checker board they were holding on their laps to
play on and sent them out into the shallow waters, jt was too dark to
recover them.
Mrs. Hunter wrapped Hunter's coat around her feet to keep the mos
quitoes away. She found the coat In the stern of the boat. Looking In a
pocket she found some matches.
"You might have looked In your coat," she said.
Jibboom went aft and talked to the stars real earnestly for ten
minutes He was evidently a pious man, since he mentioned a lot of
Bible names. But they lighted the oil stove and got a fairly good dinner
and the tide came in, so they, started for shore.
When they got in as far as possible they looked for the little row
boat. It was gone!
It developed later that Willie, lying on the knotted rope, found It
uncomfortable and untied It arid let the boat drift away, not pausing to
learn what was on the other end of the rope.
But In an hour It was high tide and they got the boat up on the
beach so they could wade ashore. It was dark and Mrs. Hunter, having
no desire to ruin her skirt, removed her sh(4es and stockings and started
! to wade. So did Mrs. Jibboom. Then someone from a near-by private
yacht swung a powerful searchlight along the shore, revealing the ladies
and securing a rare treat. Hunter laughed so heartily he stepped on a
rock and fell in, netting Mrs. Hunter's shoes and stockings, losing one of
his shoes and wetting everything he had on except Jlbboom’s cap.
When they got to the bungalo i they discovered that someone had
stolen the Hunters's luggage Jibboom had forgot to take inside.
The Hunters went home on the early morning train, wearing a
varied assortment of raiment borrowed from the Jlbbooms
"Speaking of week-end parties," began Hunter, as the train started
"Shut up,” responded Mrs. Hunter, as pleasantly as a grizzly bear with
a toothache.
Nevertheless, they went out to the Holstein’s stock tarm the follow*
inn week.
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