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TTEATCST’S SUNDAY AMERICAN. ATLANTA, 0A„ SUNDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1918.
7 E
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Jeff Didn t Want to Be Cheated Out of His Lunch
By “BUD” FISHER.
Copyright. IMS. By Bt«r Company. Omit Britain Rlghta RoaoTrat
Funny Things You Hear—Here and There
.’—‘R ORT WAYNE, Ind.—Officials of the railroad out here are greatly
!“"■ excited because hobble skirts cause so many accidents. The
“ women fail getting on and off trains.
But the officials forgot to mention the thousands of men who have
ueeu injured because of these skirts. They have been looking at the
skirts and walked into coal holes, bumped into posts, walked into auto-
mobiles and have been otherwise seriously injured.
Copyright, 1918, by Star Company. Great Britain Right* Keiterrcd.
on having her pet dog sleep with her. Alvah says the dog would bite him
if he moved. He told his wife to take her choice, and she said she pre
ferred the dog.
Alvah says he is going to sue for divorce. Some men are doggone
lucky.
that he got the breakfast and washed the dishes and gave his wife his
weekly income, and didn't object to that, but it did peeve him to have her
come to the breakfast table every morning wearing only her robe de nuit.
It seems, from the viewpoint of a mere reader of this thrilling do
mestic dramu’.er, that the breakfast attire was about the only cheerful
part of the whole affair.
Miss Jessie Floyd was surf bathing at Manhattan Beach, California,
the other day, and while swimming beyond the breakers a school of por
poises chased—or followed—her inshore.
From photographs of the young lady in her bathing suit it is apparent
that the porpoise is decidedly intelligent.
Is mankind becoming more and more effeminate? Since reading all
these stories about ' Jack the Jabbers” and drugs hypodermically admin
istered to fair victims, it is plain that men are taking up needlework.
Brazil, Ind.—Clarence Hamilton, six feet two and a half inches tall,
and Miss Grace McCullough, five feet one inch tall, were recently mar
ried, and several of the newspaper correspondents became greatly ex
cited over the fact that she was not tall enough to lean her head on his
shoulder.
They should worry. She Is tall enough to reach the pocket where he
carries his money, and that’s tall enough for any wife.
John D. Rockefeller donated $25,000 to a Cleveland hospital, but in
order to do this he had to wire to his representative to “break the rules,”
whatever that meant.
9o far as we are concerned he can break anything if he will only send
us that amount It will just about pay for things the family has on the
Christmas list
Twenty minutes after Miss Laura Blythe met William B. Morang for
the first time they were married This happened in Louisville, Ky.
The only excuse they give for the delay is that they stopped and
chatted ten minutes Some peon'e have no value of time.
Alvah Cook, of Lynn, Mass., went to law because his wife Insisted Laurie Campbell, of New Vork, states, in a counter claim for divorce.
U 7 M*1 l r IP “SPEAKER OF
Here s Milt LoIIrns, the house
Copyright, 1913, by the Star Company, Great Britain Rights Reserved.
R EAD the nuisance papers and see what is going on. Look at the
national debt. According to the last report of the Secretary of the
United States pleasury, the Government owes five billion dollars
Nobody knows what we owe it for, and nobody ever sees what we have
got for it. And if you go to Washington, the Capsule of the United States,
and you ask them, they don’t even know themselves.
Why should the United States have a national debt, anyhow?
Why should we owe anybody any money at all? Ain’t we got a govern
ment mint? If we owe anybody any money, all they have to do is to cut
up a lot of paper Into small pieces, run them through a printing press and
pay them off.
And if you ask them, they say: “What keeps the country broke is the
Pay-no-more Canal.” They claim it costs the Government nine thousand
dollars an hour to dig the canal. Think of that, nine thousand dollars an
hour, for digging! Up to date, it has cost us a hundred and seventy
million dollars to dig a bole. They’ve been at it for over nine years, and
the only hole they’ve dug Is In the United States Treasury. Every six
months the thief engineer comes up with a report. He says: “Mr. Congress,
the canal is getting better every day—a million dollars more, please.”
He gets the money, goes out, buys a couple of shovels and sends back
a telegram. ‘ Hooray, the digging is very good, the two oceans will soon be
one ” Can you beat that? Before they started the canal, it didn’t cost us
nothing and we had two oceans. By the time they get through it’ll cost
us four hundred million dollars, and we’ll only have one.
\nd the canal ain’t costing us enough money—look at our health de
partment. They got a hundred and fifty doctors working for the Govern
nient to tell us what to eat, and what not to eat—and they don't know
themselves.
Every day they get new ideas, and they come out and warn you
against something else. One great professor comes out and says, "Don’t
di-ink coffee. it makes you nervous.” then another expert says. “Beware of
milk, it’s full of bacterious.”
tad if you ” • i to them, the only way for a fellow to keep health;
is to starve to doaui.
WHAT WE EAT —This Time ft’s About Fish
Herbert Flowerdew—no, lie’s not a florist—an English novelist,
bought a masterpiece for $6. It is a Corregio, and said to be worth about
$50,000. He got it at an auction sale. The previous owner had kept it
down cellar because the figure of Venus did not seem to be properly
attired.
That’s what comes of being so modest. The owner lost $50,000. If
immodesty meant $50,000, think of the bunch of us who would have a lot
of cash for the holidays.
Robbers looted a Broadway store of $5,000 worth of goods the other
night without disturbing a policeman on fixed post only thirty-five feet
away.
And yet, if we went to sit up with a sick friend, lost our latchkey and
tried to sneak carefully into the basement window of our own home on a
quiet side street, some cop would surely see us, blow a whistle, shoot at
us, call out the reserves, and—worst of all—awakeu our wifel
I T has been said that fish Is a brain food.
It has been said that fish Is NOT a brain
food.
While you are taking your choice In this
matter, go on with the story.
One cannot eat beef and lamb and veal all
the time. The chief reason for this is that
one cannot afford it.
Why not eat fish now and then? There are
better fish In the sea than were ever served on
the table. There are several rules to follow re
garding fish. First, get fresh fish; secondly,
never eat stale fish; thirdly, do not attempt to
eat the bones.
We know of an actual Instance where a
woman went out and got some fresh fish. They
were really fresh. She bought them in a little
globe of water. They were gold fish.
Almost any swell restaurant will serve Eng
llsh sole if you ask for It and if the manage
ment thinks you are able to pay the $1.60 they
charge for It. Once In a while we have Eng
lish sole over here, just as once In a while we
ave seventeen-year locusts.
Statisticians have figured It out that about
on,e and a half times out of every 287,465,288,329
times genuine English sole is served. The re
maining 387,465.268,327 5 ,£ times it is ordinary
flounder.
If you should ever meet a flounder face to
face you would never mistake him for English
sole. The real English sole is a rather insipid,
ordinarily formed fish with pale flesh. The
flounder has a b“tter flavor, but being in the
plebeian class it is not good business to serve
him under his real name. By bringing on a
section of flounder nicely fried and garnished,
under the alias of English sole, he will bring
about $1.60. Served at Dlnny’s place down at
the corner In the back room, the price Is only
twenty cents.
The ordinary dark eomplexloned horned
pout or bull-head that makes his lair in the
muddy bottoms and prowls about at night is
really a succulent morsel. Aside from the
fact that it takes an expert to skin him and
not become impaled on his horns, he-is a charm
ing bit, and probably the finest ingredient
know-n for fresh water fish chowder.
But the horned pout seldom appears under
his own name. Like an actress or a traveling
man at a party away from home, he never uses
his own name In all mountain hotels he ap
pears throughout the Summer on the menus as:
“Fresh Mountain Trout 60c.
Then there is the lowly haddock. He is
a perfectly good fish, but he has a stripe down
each side like the stripe on evening trousers
or the elevator boy's pants. Skilled fish deal
ers do not worry over this stripe.
With a knife this is easily removed, when—
presto!—Mr. Haddock at 16 cents per pound
becomes the Right Honorable Mr. Halibut at
29 cents per pound With the stripe removed,
only an expert can tell the difference by sight,
and not at all by taste.
Porpoise steak is served in many restau
rants to-day. This is a revelation. Porpoise
steak really comes from a porpoise, because no
other flab could imitate such a combination.
First, there is a thin jet black layer, then a
medium pure white layer, then a thick red
layer.
The thin black layer looks, smells and tastes
like a piece of new rubber boot. It is the outer
skin, and owing to the habits of the porpoise
it is necessarily water-proof -another proof
that it is like a rubber boot. The medium
pure white layer is fat. It has a strong fishy
flavor. This is held to be due to the fact that
ft entirely surrounds a fish. It Is, In fact, the
porpoise’s union suit. Now comes the steak
part. This looks like very red and very raw
beef. It has a strong fibre and a stronger
flavor. It does not taste like steak. It does
not taste like fish, but It tastes as though the
cook had Inadvertently placed the beef steak
on top of the mackerel and allowed It to re
main there over Sunday.
Butterflsh are so called because by using a
dollar’s worth of butter on them to take away
the flavor they are almost edible.
New York Is noted for Its fresh fish. Not
but what other cities have them, too, but New
York probably has more than the average city.'
These are In the Aquarium, down on the Bat
tery!
Whenever you see a fish in a foot or more of
water, swimming about comfortably, you may
be fairly sure that this fish is comparatively
fresh.
Extra! Santa Gets
Pinched!
By Frank X. Finnegan
Copyright 1913. by the Star Company. Great Britain Rights Reserve!
f* | AS the night before Christmas, and up on the house
* An aeroplane landed as still as a mouse;
While down from the seat climbed a ruddy aid chap
With snowy white whiskers and long, peaked cap.
He looked like Carnegie, of Pittsburgh, P-a.,
Whose hobby is giving libraries away.
As he took from his biplane a big bundle which
Seemed to show that he, too, was afraid he’d die rich.
Then he sought for the chimney, first stared and then frowned,
I'or nary a chimney was there to be found!
’Twas an up-to-date building he’d struck, and alas!
They had solved the smoke nuisance by heating with gas.
Now, this glum situation,” he said, “would give pause
To one not so resourceful as Mr. S. Claus;
But as I have engaged to drop In down below
And scatter a few souvenirs, here’s a go!”
So right over the parapet lightly he swung
To the fire escape ladder and sturdily clung
Till his pack was adjusted and everything right
Fortiis stealthy descent in the cold Winter night.
When be came to a window he paused, wilh a grin,
And said to himself, “Here is where I come in!”
But once more he was due to be speedily shocked,
For the window was prudently shuttered and locked.
At that moment there sounded a threatening yell,
Which told the old fellow that all was not well.
And beneath him he saw a policeman in blue,
With a gun in each hand, who was shouting, “Hey, you!”
Mr. Claus then descended in haste and surprise
Where the copper was waiting with Joy in his eyes.
And found himself nabbed, as he dropped to the snow,
In the place where his tie, if he wore one, would go.
"Well, you’ve sure got your nerve!” said the officer then,
“To go climbing in windows on my beat again!
Those whiskers don’t fool me a minute, you know;
I’ve got you right this time, old ’St. Louis Joe.’ ”
“But I don’t understand!” cried the gray little man;
"And you will. I’m afraid, interfere with my plan.
I am due to distribute the gifts in this pack
In some thousands of places before I get back.
“And, in fact, were it not for this vexing delay
I’d have finished up here and be far on my way.
So, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I will go,
F'or you see I am not your friend, ‘St. Louis Joe.’”
“Say, that’s good!” said the cop, as he laughed long and loud.
“It’s a new one, at least, that I’ll have for the crowd.
Distributing gifts! Well, of course, that sounds fine;
But I think that collecting is more in your line!”
Then away to the station his captive he led.
With a big 44 at the side of his head,
And out of a nap startled grim Captain Woods
Shouting, “Cap, I’ve caught ‘St. Louis Joe’ with the goods!”
“Just a moment!” suid Santa, “unless I am wrong
1 have something right here you have waited for long.”
And lie drew from his bundle a bright badge of gold,
With tile legend “Inspector” for all to behold.
“I was coming to you,” he explained, with a grin,
“If this zealous policeman had not brought me in.
And now that I’m here, I’ll present this to show
That I’m not, as he seems to think, ’St. Louis Joe.”
Then the captain glared ’round where his minion had stood,
But the copper had fled while the fleeing was good.
So he pinned the new badge on his coat with delight,
And declared, “I’d forgotten that this was your night.
“I hope you’ll excuse this delay and its cause—
A policeman who didn’t know old Santa Claus!”
“Don’t mention it, please,” said the gray little man,
“And I’ll try to make up for lost time, if 1 can.”
Then he hurried away ’neath the star-spangled sky
At a speed which no other but Santa dare try.
Till his labors were done as night’s curtains were drawn
And the anthems of Christinas arose on the dawn.
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Copyright. 1913, by The Star Company.
Great Britain Rights Reserved.
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