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Chicago is for Chicago to own her
own pubhc utilities. This town ought
to be setting the pace to American
cities in this regard. As it is "I WILL"
means most of the time "I WON'T.
DOWN IN NEW YORK
By Norman.
New York, July 21. On a recent
very hot day a subway train pulled
into the Grand Central station.
When it's hot above ground it's HOT
in the subway, and so it was this day.
In one of the cars crept a sad
looking individual, wrapped in a long
ulster. He was unmistakably suf
fering from the heat He sat down
in a corner and looked miserable.
A man next him inquired why he
wore an ulster in such weather. The
suffering one confided that under
neath it there was qply undercloth
ing. The kind man took up a collec
tion to help the ulstered person to
get a suit of clothes. At Brooklyn
bridge he turned over several dollars
to the man in the overcoat.
The latter, with many thinks, left
the train and hurried across to an
up-bound express. It was his busy
day. You can't work on people's
sympathies merely by wearing an
overcoat unless It's pretty warm.
An elderly man stopped George M.
Cohan in 43d street. "Mr. Cohan,"
said he, 'T merely wish to introduce
myself as a veteran song writer and
to congratulate you on. a discovery
that you made early in your career."
"Discovery?" queried Cohan.
"What discovery?"
"The discovery, sir," replied the
other, "that there is in the English
language a rhyme to the word "baby.'
Other song writers had always
rhymed it with 'lady" a most dis
tressing proceeding until, in your
song, 'I Guess IH Have to Telegraph
My Baby,' you made an actual rhyme
with 'maybe.' "
"Thank you," responded Cohan.
"Is that all you had on your chest?"
"No,,sir," said the veteran, "I could,
use a $2 bilrtf you had one to spare."1
"Here you are," answered Cohan
passing over the desired currency, '
"and you deserve more credit than 1 '
do."
"How so?"
"Why, you seem to have made?
'baby' rhyme with $2."
A Fifth avenue bus stopped at 34th
street. "Hey!" shouted the conduc
tor to a passenger on the rooff
"didn't yez want the Waldorf?"
"Yes," replied the man addressed. :
"Well, ye'll have to come down
here. I can't bring it on the bus for
ye."-
o o . '
HOT WEATHER EASE
By Berton Braley.
Oh, bother me not with duty
And hector me not with work,
No possible sum of booty
Could make me do aught but shirk.
The office can go to thunder
And business can go to pot,
I'm going to remain here under
The shade of the porch it's hot!
If Wall street iin a flurry,
If Washington's in a muss,
I murmur, "Well, I should worry,"
I mutter, "Well, I should fuss."
For politics cannot stir me,
I don't give a hang for trade,
And nothing on earth can spur me
To move from my spot of shade.
The toilers may all deride me.
They say I'm a sloth, I know,
But a tinkling pitcher's beside me'
And the hammock is swinging
slow.
There's no one on earth that has a
More absolute sense of ease.
Oh it's me for the cool piazza
And the breath of the lazy breeze!
oo
Washington fashionables talk of
modified trousers for women, and,
New York women talk of men's
bathing. Dog-gone 'em! They'll be;
after our strops and razors next, ,
