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EMUEL J. PEEBLES was the
L village undertaker and his
ad in the weekly paper read:
“Try our undertaking once and you
will never try any other. Embalm
ing done with neatness and dis-
Pateh.”
Mr. Pesbles was known as the
Jolliest man {n town and he always
greeted everybody with a smile.
He was particularly friendly to
newcomers, When anybody would
meet Lem the salutation would be:
“Well, Lem, how's business?”
“Purty good,” Lem would reply,
looking fixedly at the questioner,
“but it might be better.” |
He derived about half his ilncome
from undertaking and the other
half from resmting folding chairs
which were used for every lawn
party, lecture or entertainment
given M the village. It was usual
for four or five of the chatrs to col
lapse during the session, theweby
enhancing the undertaking bush
ness. There was never a greater
business combination than
taking and folding chairs,
Lemuel's cheerful mammer hed
long endeared him to the olithmers
in the neighborhood. Hils cheery
greeting generally was: “Well, I've
got my eye on you, Toblas,” and
Tobias would go home end feel
cheerful all day.
He was the greatest man in the
community whenever thers was a
funeral, for then he appeared in a
high silk hat and a Prince Albert |
coat, which he had worn so long
that it had acquired a looking
glass effect. Ile was In the public |
eye more prominently than mfhoi
deceased. The minister was only |
a slde-fesue at any funeral presided |
over by Mr. Peebles. ‘
Lemuel had a few seagoing hacks |
which he was willing to remt to
the mourners at only three or four
times as much as they were worth,
and in some manner he always
managed to hunt up enough anti
gquated plug hats for the drivers,
making them look like the execu
tive committee of Coxey’s army.
The, most doleful thing in the world
{s the plug hat worn by a hack
driver, particularly when the‘
driver isn’'t anxious to wear it and
tilts it at an angle of 45 degrees.
But Lemuel always claimed that
there was tone to his funerals—
regular city style—and it i 8 only
fair to Lemue! to say that the prin
cipal character never complained.
When not engaged in his lugubri
ous occupation Lemuel was a pub
lic-spirited citizen. He opposed
the new sewer system, the water
works department and the new gar
bage plant as long as he decently
could to save the taxpayers’ money.
When the village started a move
ment to drain off the old marsh,
which was supposed to be a
breeder of malaria, Lemus! fought
against it, but was finally whipped,
and he hasn't yet got through telk
ing what an expenge the improve
ment was.
He made his ten-strike when he'
bought a second-hand automobile
hearse. The old bus could run 'em
down almost as fast as he couid
undertake ’'em, !
Early Rising. *
“l RECKON,” said the first farm
er, “that 1 get up earlier than
anybody in thls meighborhood. I
em alweys up before 3 o'clock In
the morning.”
The second farmer said he was
always up before that and had part
of his work done.
The first farmer thought he was
a liar, and decided to find out. A
few mornings later he got up at 2
o'clock and went to the neighbor's
house. He rapped on the back door
and the woman of the house
opened fit. \
“Where {s your husband?” asked
the farmer, expecting to find the
neighbor in bed.
“He wag around here early in the
morning,” answered the wife, “dut
1 don’'t know where he is now.”
The Summer Siren
ED!TH—-«l'm awfully afraid of the
waves.
Gwen—lif 1 wore such a bathing
sult as you, dear, the only wave
I'd fear would be a moral one,
In Kentucky.
“YES, Bill chased him two days
L with a shot gun, finally got &
#ood bead on him and shot him
through the lung.”
“Kill him?”
u?.,‘.u
“Didn’t they lynch Bill for colds
blooded murder?™
“Nope; the feller Bfll shot didn't
have a friend on earth, so the game
warden jest fined Bill two dollars
ter huntin’ without a ficense.”
George McManus’ Funniest Series, “Bringing Up Father,” Every Evening in The Atlanta Georgiam
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. I So))Y )oo e S 2 Y Lo
THERS may spend the Sum-
O mer at various resorts, but
it you are a commuter you
always spend your Summer in one
place—on the suburban train.
If you are a commuter you are
always hurrylng to catoh some
thing. There are three things you
are always trying to catch up with:
The train to the city, the traln home
and the installments on your house.
A commuter is like the conductor
of a merry-goround. He is always
travelling, but never gets any
where,
' If nothing happens to you before
you are ninety-seven years old you
probably get your house paid for,
and you will have caught 1,786,943
tralns. The average commuter s
willing to let this rest as the record
of a life of fulfilment. A ecommuter
does not yearn for the great goals
of Itfe. To get to the city and get
home—that is the sum total of his
ambition.
‘ln fact, probably nobody would
ever have heard of several million
commuters {f somebedy hadn’t wric
ten a song entitled “On the Five-
Fifteen,” and even this song nnl
the commuter a bad name,
But commuting has its ulvan-l
tages. When you commute you al-|
ways live in a high-sounding com-|
munity. The real estate promoter|
usually ndmes the suburb after his|
daughter, so you lltve in ‘“Hazel-|
hurst” “Gladysville” “Marylyn|
Manmor” or “Flossyfen.” You can|
talk about your “country place” in
every ginmill and club in the city!
and know that none of the people%
you talk to will ever come out and
look you up and find out the truta.
When you leave on the 5:15 or the
7:22 you leave the world behind.
Commuting is not a life to be en-!
tered upon lighfly. ¥t is nlways‘
best to look the ground over before
buying the new place. When they
tell you the house is only one block
from the station you are apt to find
that the station referred to is a
gasoline filllng station and that the
statlon you are Interested in—the
railway station—lis two mfles away.
When you are a commuter the
servant problem is no problem at
all. That Is another advantage.
You never keep one long enough to
Jearn her first name. In course of
time you stop worrying about it and
grab a bite wherever you happen
'to be. Besltfu, there 18 generally
a tea room in the community
where you can get half a meal for
only, three or four times what 1t
would cost you in the city.
Your life as a commuter is com
paratively simple. Yo rise at 6
o'clock In the moMfing so as to
have plenty of time to get to the
8:17. You find that the mald left
on the last train the night before,
S 0 Instead of having breakfast
you go and chase the lawnmower
up and down the lot until train
time. People eat too much anyhow,
Any doctor will tell you that. Nebu-
AEARST'S SUNDAY AMERICAN — A Newspaper for People Who Think — SUNDAY, AUGUST 31, 1919.
- He Should Worry
The Commuter
chadnezzar went out and ate grass.
You go out and cat it :
When you reach the city you get
your coffee and sinkers and rush to
your office. Youn take out your
watch and put it on your desk and
keep your mind on the 5:15 all day,
for that is the train, upon which
you have promised to go home.
Astde from warrying about your
train you have no troubles what
ever. Business is a secondary mat
ter. What troubles you have dur
ing the day come from your suburb
over the telephone. It is necessary
to get home on the 5:15 or the new
cook won't stay because she has a
The Surest Way.
ANGRY FATHER—If my son mar
rles that burlesque actress, I
shall cut him off without a cent,
and you can tell him so.
LIWY.T-TM!O'I no use bother
ing him; T'll Just tell the actress.
Tickled to Death. .
BLANK had had a day off, and
when he returned to the office
the following morning his pals
wanted to know why he looked 0
disgruntled.
“Everything went wrong!” grum
bled Blank. ®
“How was that?” one asked.
“Ever go fishing with a girl?”
“Once.”
“Did she protest against hurting
the fish?”
“No. She said she was sure they
were perfectly happy, because they]
were all wagging their tafls.” |
Misunderstood. \
s}IORT—-l say, old man, can you
lend me a fiver?
Longley--Impossible. I've tried
to lend you money several times,
but you always seem to look upon
it as a gift. y
Frank.
FR.EDA. unless she ,was asleep,
was always just 'dln; into mis
chief or just coming out, It was
“Don’'t do this!™ and “Don’t touch
that!” from morning till night, In
fact, the little girl Had been con
sistently naughty for a week, and
her mother was In despalr.
“Really, child,” she sald at last,
“1 should think you would get tired
hearing me talk to you so much"”
In most decided tones the child
returned:
“Well, mother, I do.”
Boss.
“DOES your wife drive a car?™
“Not exactly,” replled Mr.
Petroll. “She doesn’t do the actual
work, but when she’s In the c¢ar shs
decides which way it is going every
time.”
dats to go to the movies with the
chanffeur nex® door,
After worrying about it all day
you catch the 5:15 by a halr’s
breadth and have to stand up all
the way home. You spend most of
the time filnding your commutation
ticket and the conductor spends
the rest of the time trying to find
a place to punch it, so the time
passes in an interesting manner.
After dlnner all you have to do s
to go to bed and lie awake half the
night worrying about catching the
8:17 in the marning.
As somebody has said: “That is
the life!”
From Here and There
Big Talk
nRVILLE WRIGHT, at a dinner
. in Dayton, talked of his early
struggles.
“We bad, my brother and 1" he
said, “lots of oral encouragement,
People talked big, but they would
put up nothing. With their mouths
full of millions and their quite
empty hands, they reminded me of
a barber I once knew,
“This barber said one day as he
shaved me:
““That's a fine pup of Wilber
force’s. I'd give anything for it'
““Wall, it's for sale, isn’t it?
said L
“The barber burst into harsh,
sneering laughter.
* ‘Oh, yes, it's for sale,” sald he,
ut Wilberforce, the chump, wants
$1.50 for it.""
. : &
Ode to a True Prophet
N days of yore
I We used to roar
At Lady Carrie Nation,
Who left deep scars
On polished bars,
And hacked with grim elation,
We ched no tears '
O'er ghattered beers,
For other bars were handy,
We thought her daft—
We merely laughed,
And quaffed another brandy.
| But now It seems
The old dame's dreams |
Were not the stuff of fable; ;
The hour draws nigh
When we shall sigh
For bottles on the table.
Thoss blows she struck
Were not for luck;
They had a sound foundation;
It was the knell
Of liguor's spell-—
SOME prophet, Carris Natlon!
8o while we sip
Some spikeless nip
Let's not forget the hatchet;
R was a clew
For me and yon,
But, ah, we didn't catch it!
Taking Up the Slack in the Purse Strings
By Roy K. Moulton
& HAVE fust been reading”
‘I sald my wife, “that Edgar
Allen Poe got only $lO a
week while editor of a magazine
and managed to get along om it
very well” :
“The original of Efficiency Ed
gar,” I said. “When was that?”
“In 1839," she replied.
“What a man could do with $lO
fn 1839 has po bearing upon what
he can do with $lO in 1919" I
averred. “For $lO, in 1839, a man
could buy half a cow and choosa
his half, and if he tried to carry
Not Getting a Cook.
HUBBAND—I say, dear, dinner's
horribly late again.
Wite—Look here, when you mar
ried me you didn't marry a cook.
Husband—Well, you needn’t rub
it in
Ot
Annoying.
lN a crowded omnibus a stout
woman vainly endeavored to get
her fare out of the pocket of her
cloak, which was tightly buttoned
as a precantion against pickpockets.
After she had been working in
valn for sime minutes, a (ontlemn‘
seated on her right said: “pluu'
allow me to pay your fare.” |
The lady declined with some
acerbity and recommencéd her at.
tacks om the pocket.
After these had continued for
a little time her fellow passenger
sald: “You really must let me pay
your fare. You have already un
done my braces three timoes, and 1
cannot stand it any longer.”
S \
Joshing the Diplomatist.
THERID is a certain youth at
tached to one of the foreign
missions at Washington whose
habit it is, shortly aftor introduc
tlon to some fair lady, hnmedL‘
ately to turn the conversation lnt.oi
channels favorable for the discus®
sion of the tender passion.
“I observe,” sald he, on one ocen
slon, when he had just been pre
sented to a charming young wo
msn, “that you wear a most attrac
tive locket. Tell me, does it con:
tain the token of some past n(hlr
of the heart?”
“Yes,” smiled the lady, who had
been warned of the diplomatist’s
wenkness, afld who thought to hnvo;
& bit of fun with him, “It does con.
taln a love token-—a lock of my
husband's halr.”
“A widow!” exclaimed the sus
ceptible foreigner, as he edged
closer. “Why, some one told me
four hushand wus alive"”
“He iB,” answered the young wo
man, “but his hair {s gone.”
By
TAD.
Registered U. B. Patent Offled
§slo worth of codfish home from the
market he would have to make five
trips. Nowadays $lO doesn’t make
any more nolse than the yell squad
of a deaf and dumb institute.”
“Nevertheless, his experience has
given me an idea. If he could get
along on $lO a week we ought to
be able to get along on S2O, at least
for our table.” v :
“You mean that S2O a week
would buy the furniture polish for
.the table?” .
“No, the food. I have got.a little
book on efficiency, and I see whers
we can save a great deal of
money.” 1
“Shall we give up the apartment
and live in a tent?
“No, we are going to save it on
food.”
“The hardest thing ia the world
to save It on. Try something easy.
You can save money on anything
else twice a 8 fast.” \
"I am going to let Myrtilla go
and do the cooking myself. 1 have
one thousand handy mtc- hera
in the book. We wiil gin to
morrow.”
We did. We began at breakfast
next morning. The things we weut
without at that breakfast would
have filled Mrs. Rorer's book threa
or four times. We had suhltlt'u.‘u
for everything except domestic
felicity. There was no substitute
in the book for that,
There {8 a lunch wagon three
blocks from our house. I managsd
to get over there in time to make
out*a fair breakfast and get my
tradn for the city.
For dinner that night we had
some very delectable muffing mada
of potato parings and a sort of imi
tatlog cornmeal which easted as
though 't was the by-product' of
some venser factory. We also had
rome gort of fish, I am willing to
swear It was flsh, becanse my wlh‘
said it was and she is a truthfal
person, |
For some reason I could eat nrvx
little, and the second night it vn;
the same. My wife eyed me sus- |
piclously. By the end of the week|
1 had reduced my own appetite to
the extent that it seemed as though
we were not only going to save a
great deal of money on food, but‘
that somebody might actually be|
owing us money. My wife ate spar
ingly. When we totalled up the
flgures at the end of the week wo
found we had saved $6 In house|
nmoney, }
8o we started in the second week. |
We were already figuring on what|
sort of a car we would buy, or Ia
what other way we could spend the
money qulckly, so as to get it out
of the way. People who are not!
sceustomed to saving money are |
always embarrassed in Its pres l
ence. Like a peace treaty, after
they get it they don't know what
to do with it.
On Wednesday, of the second
week, after I had had my usual
square meal down town and was
on my way home to eat the offi
cienéy dinner, I chanced to stop lni
front of a restaurant in our ntrn-\
borhood to look at some things they
had in the window, a wooden pon!
terhouse steak and 8 papier mache
lobster or two. As I looked I saw,
at the third table, a hat that looked
somewhat famillar. I went in and
found that the person who was
seated under the hat was my wife.
Bhe was seated in front of 4 mess
of lamb chops, and the chops were
flanked by Brussels sprouts and
Bpring peas. A large assortment
of French pastry was near at hand.
‘““You are-a little early, aren't
you?" she inquired.
“A bit” 1 admitted. *“I got
through early.”
“Too early,” she declarel. *“Flr
teen minutes more and I would
have been home with the efficiency
dinner on the table.”
“How long has this been golng
on?" | demanded.
“Ever since the third day,” she
admitted. “That was the day I dis
covered that you were getting your
meals down town.”
That night we figured up. Dur.
ing our experiment we had saved
$0 in house money and had spent
$36 for meals outside. The cat gnt
a good meal that night, \
Bdgar Allan Poe might have done
it on $lO a week, but eivilization
has advanced a few paces since
1839, g >
Heard About
Town.
‘““Where Pants the Hart.”
C‘OH. Jones,"” said the botanist. “I
see a pair of overalls working
in the field. I wonder if {t's a man
or a woman?”
“You say it's working? Then it's
& woman!”
The Btilly Night.
THE most consoling thing about
golng to the movies is sceing
80 many women In the pictures
opening their mouths and not say
ing a word you can hear,
Bpotting Francis.
A YOUNG woman was telling a
friend about an acquaintance,
e young man named Francis, whom
the second girl had never seen.
“What sort of a chap is Francis,
anyhow ?’ asked the listener,
“Well,” the other replied, after a
moment's thought, “it ever you see
two men in a corner and one looks
bored to death, the other one {s
Francls.”
Life a
ife at
Newport
NOWING as we do what an
K ordeal it {s for us to be
photographed, we feel very
sorry for the poor soclety leaders
at Newport and other popular re
sorts of the elitest of the elite.
Thess poor dames can't make &
move without a camera at their
elbows, clicking away their every
gesture. They get photographed
getting into and out of their ma
chines, and into and out of the surf,
and into and out of their Summer
homes. Life, to them, is just one
exposure after another,
It must be annoying not to have
& moment's rest—to have to wear &
cameratic smile all the time. Ordi
nary mortals can step out of a taxl
and no one will pay any sttention
to them, except the driver, and he
ceases to be interested the moment
he gets his fare. But when a so
clety leader alights from her ear
her act is accompanied by a chorus
of clicks from a battery of cameras,
In fact, these clicks are 2o much a
part of her daily life that it
wouldn't be surprising if some one
unacquainted with what {# going on
might not mistake the society
leader for s mechanical toy, and
decide that the clicks were the
sound of her internal mechanism ot
aprings.
We wonder if the cameramen ars
ever a topic of conversation in the
inner social circle. Can’t you im
agine a couple of grand dames—
(N. B.—Be careful not to pro
nounce “dame” to rhyme with
“same.” The “a” has a broad brim,
as in Panama”)-—can’t you imagine,
a 8 we were gaying when we were
interrupted, a couple of these grand
dowagers chatting thusly:
“Well, my dear, how many times
were you snapped to-day?
« "Really"—business of elevating
lorgnette—*l cawn't say. I seldom
keep the score, don’t you know.”
“Ah”—similar business—"l sup
pose not. Still, it's the bit of a
nuisance, n'est-ce pas.” '
“You said a Rolis-Royde-ful, my
dear. Why, only yesterday I ac
cidentally stepped on one of t)m
‘ camera persons as I was getting
out of the surt.”
“That was unfortunate.”
“Yes, I'm afraid I jarred his nega
tive—l believe that’s what yoa call
it. Won't it be terrible it that photos
graph comes out, and my bathing
suit<looks jarred.”
“Yes; or, what {3 worse, won't it
be terrible if the photograph comes
out and your bathing suit looks
negative.”
“My word, T never thought of
that. I must be more careful in the
- future in regard to exposures, using
the word—my dear—strictly in a
snapshottish sense. Adieu! Homae,
James. I must sweep out the ball
room before dinner.”
e —————————————————
No Fez or Fuszs.
Trm missionary to Turkey was
home for a spell, and was in.
vited to many houses to meet var
sous people.
An old lady, racking her brain for
some inferesting topic of ennversa:
tion, told the missionary about a
Turk who had beenea thief and
whorg she had met in her travels.
“Did the scoundrel wear a fes?
the missionary asked, rather bored
with the recital but feigning o
Lerest.
“No,” sald the old lady; *he was
clean shaven.”
* Home Work.
JOHN.\'Y——Fumer. how do you
gpell high?
Father—H--g-h; why do you wish
to know?
Johnny—'Cause I'm writing »
composition on the highena
A Dramatic Instant.
“ls the fair defendant ready to
appear?”
“She is etill conferring with her
lawyers."”
“Why the delay?™
“I understand they are trying to
decide on the psychological mo«
went for her to faint in court.”
Good for Peroy.
(‘MY son is not what you would|
call musically Inclined,” said
the fond mother, indicating the
languid, poetic creature who lolled
beside her, “and yet 1 am anxious
to have him take plano lessons.”
The Dean of the Conservatory
rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he
surveyed the sad young man.
“You see,” she continued, “Percy’s
8o dellcate, I think the exercise will
be good for him.™