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L «.„ ANn P<>ST - VOl - X no. tat. FRANCISCO CALL, VOL. 115, NO. 24. FOOTLIGHT FLASHES from local Bißy B. Van ahd His Merry! £? Laugh Makers V The Irrepressible Comedian Who Is Scoring a Tre mendous Hit at the Orpheum The mean c s man on record is said to be a Rube who lives In Shrewsbury, Mass He sold his son in law one-half a cow, and then re. fused to divide the milk, maintains that he only sold the front half. Tlie buyer was- re quired to provide feed the cow consumed, and c ompelled to carry water to her three a day. Raj oently the cow hooked the old man, snd now he is suing his son in law "The verenable judge of the county doesn't fine the motorists for speed ing as he used to," remarked the man tn the hip green touring car. "By heck, no," drawled the rural constable. "You see, the judge took in so much fines that, swing ding it, lie's gone and bought a rating auto mobile for himself." "\Vo©ds= —Who is the champion light- Jack Meyer tells a story of an Irish man who recently went before a judge to be naturalized. "Have you read the declaration of Independence?" the court asked. "Have you read the constitution of The judt;" looked sternly at the ap- ' "Well, what have you read?" Patrick hesitated but the fraction Of a second before replying: "I hoy red hairs on me neck, yer honor." Rube —How much for a ticket to Hew York? Ticket Seller—Three dollar^. Rube —1 11 give you two dollars and a half. Ticket Seller—Get away frotn the window and don't bother me. Great Scenes in From the Dramatization of Louisa M. Alcotfs Immortal Story, by Marian de Forest—Cort, Monday, Dec. 29 Ales: —sucn tun: only see! a regu lar note in invi vation from Mrs. Gardner. (waiv ing the note and proceeding to read. Beth comes down to armchair at fireplace, .and listens). "Mrs. Gardner would be happy to see Miss March and Miss Josephine at a little dance -on Christmas Eve." I am sure Marmee will let us go. Now, what shall we wear? Jo (mouth full of apple, of which fcli i ken a f esh bite) —What's the use of asking that, when you- know we shall have to wear our poplins because we haven't anything else? .In- Yes. I scorched it, standing with my bark to trie fire (Amy and Amy—Another one of your boyish tricks. Jo, you are certainly incor rigible. Jo (too exercised about her frock to laugh at Amy's blunder)— That burn shows dreadfully—and I can't lake it out. Beth—Can't you drop a little vel vet bow on it? Amy (over h<*r shoulder) —Would'nt that look nice? A bow in the middle of her back! Mor—You must stay still all you Cmii and keep your back out of sight. Your frout IS all right. dlie beautiful faith and trust of Bronsen Alcott 'brought out in the thought of Mrs. March when sent for and no money to go with.) Mrs. -March — Father needs me, and some way will b« provided. Hope and keep busy. (This was a pet say ing of Ix>ui.sa Alcott.) Remember, jou can D«V«r be fatherless. Mrs. March —Jo, dear, you think your temper the worst in the world; Jo —Yours. Mother! Why, you are never angry. Mrs. dear, I have been trying to cure it for 40 years and have only succeeded in controlling it, J still have to learn not to feel it, though that may take me another RICH MAJMUACHM Mrs. March—Money is a needful and precious thing, and many times a beautiful thing, but I'd rather see my Is poor men's wives if they were happy and contented than queens on thrones without self-respect and peace. Jo—Maraiee has always told us; lonisa ML Al.-ott SUCH IS LIFE IN A GREAT CITY Rube—Well, how will two dollars and seventy-five cents strike you, young man? Ticket Seller —No! Rube—All right. Now T won't go to New York at all. and you don't get a darned nickel out of me. People who go to apothecaries to have their diseases prescribed for oc casionally get very strange diagnoses. One day a farmer wearing a long countenance is said to have entered an apothecary's shop and remarked: "I seem to have something queer in. my stomach and I want you to give me something*for it." "What are your symptoms?" the apothecary asked. "Every little while something seems to rise up and then settle back again, j and by and by it rises up again." The apothecary put his chin in the I palm of his hand and mediated. I "Look here," he said, gravely: "you I haven't gone and swallowed an- ele ! vator, have you?" A New Hampshire farmer was hard i at work on a hilly, rocky farm so poor you couldn't raise an umbrella on it when a stranger passing by stopped to sympathize with him. Stranger—Well, well, you must be awfully poor to have to work on such a farm as this. Farmer (indignantly)— Not by a damned sight. I ain't so poor as you think I be. I don't own the land. Pat—"Where did you get the medal?" Mike—"For bravery." Pat—What did you do that was Mike—"Married a widow and seven children." - Casey (after Riley has fallen five stories i—"Are yez dead, Pat?" Riley—-"Oi am." Casey—"Shure. yer such a liar Oi don't know whither to belave yez or not." Riley— Shure. that proves Oi'm dead. Ye w'udn't dare call me a liar | if Oi *>'hs aloive!" Judge—"What your occupation?" Mike —"I'm a sailor." Judge—"You don't look like a sail or. I don't believe you were ever on a ship." Mike—"Do you think I came from Ireland in a hack?" | "Cast your bread upon tlie waters, and after many days it will come back buttered." (This was another favorite saying of Miss Aleott.) I can't do | much with my hands, but I'll make a i battering ram out o of my head and heat a living out of this topsyturvy ' world. (Miss Alcott wrote this to her sister, Meg, after receiving money for her first story.) JO* FIRST LOVE SYMPTOM Mrs. March—You seem mucti inter ested in the professor, Jo. Jo—Well, he advised me to study simple, true characters, and, T pro-, reeded to study him. I find him a great puzzle. He is not fascinating or brilliant, and yet people gather about him as naturally as about a genial fire. He is poor, yet he always ap jeears to be giving something away. He is a stranger, yet every one is his friend. He's plain and peculiar, and I've been trying to discover his charm and I've finally decided that it's benevolence that has worked the mira cle. Why, mother, his very boots are benevolent. Amy—You can go through the world with your elbows out and your nose in the air and call it independence if you like. It's not my way. Jo—Meg's old hat! Isn't it a new one? Amy—Not at all. It's her old one. I painted it in water colors, and her boots to match. 1.01 ISA'S HK.BKLI.IO.N AGAINST SK\SATIO\AI, STORIES Professor Bhaer — Herr Marsche, that reminds me. Mees Marsche, she tell me how you luf my Schiller, so I make so bold as to bring my copy for you to see (takes from pocket, done up in one of the old fashioned, luridly illustrated papers, like the Fireside Companion, in black andf white. At sight of the paper the pro fessor frowns and quickly strips it from the book). Ach, one of those sensation papers with their horrid pic tures. I am short sighted, sir. I did not see him. Your pardon that I bring him to your home. These pa pers are not for children to see or young people to read. T haf no pa tience with those who make this harm. Mr. March Hooking at the paper and accepting the book)— You are right, sir. to put the paper from you. Young people should not sec such things. Professor Bhaer—l would more rather glf children gunpowder to play with than this bad trash. Jo—All may not be bad, only silly, you know; and if there Is a demand for It, I don't see any harm ln supply ing it. Very many respectable people make an honest living out of what are called sensational stories. Professor Biiaer (vehemently) — There is a demand lor whisky, but I San Francisco CALL and POST a Z7 /7 // "You Are Old, Father '13" £7/7 /7 0 Arthur L. Price think you and I do not care to sell | it. If the respectable people knew what harm they did, they would not feel that the lifing was honest. They have no right to put poison in the sugar plum and let the small ones eat it. No, they should think a little and sweep mud in the streets before they do this thing. And the peopl<> who write these stories, not only men, but women, I grieve to say, for in doing so they desecrate their most womanliest nature. To lif with thieves, murders and criminals, even j though it is only in imagination, it is to live ln bad company. (He throws paper into the fire. Mr. March looking on, evidently amused at the way Jo has taken her little lesson. Jo looks uncomfortable. Mrs. March, bending over her work, is smiling. The professor rams the last vestige of the paper into the blaze with the poker. Professor Bhaer —And I should like to send all the rest after him. My apologies to you (looking at them all) and (with a little whimsical smile i to Schiller. Mrs. March —Professor, will you not stay to tea and meet the rest of the family? We should so much like to have you. Professor Bhaer —Ach, I am sorrow ful. I must say no and take myself quickly away from this so pleasant home; but, after all. T tell Mees March that I do myself the pleasure to call this efening, a message for me come that I must leave. Mr. March —I wish that philosophy paid better in this money loving World, and then my girl wouldn't have to be writing "lurid tales (put tins: his hands on her shoulder). jo—Well. Plato. "The Duke's Daughter" paid the butcher's bill; "A Phantom Hand" put down the new carpet, and "The Curse of the Cov entrys" proved the blessing of the Marchs in the way of groceries and gowns, so the inside of my head can at least take cafe of the outside. MEFBJUUKG to thi: noOK, "I.ITTI.K WOMKX" Mr. March —How is the book com ing on, Jo? Any news frotn the pub lishers? Jo —Well, they have sent back the first chapters—thought they were dull. So did I, but T have started them out again, and now (laughing) I am sitting like Patience on a hard chair smiling at an inkstand. Mr. March —L»ife is your college, dear, you will graduate with honors, I know. Jo—Well, disappointment must be good for me. I get so much of it; and the constant thumping Kate gives me may be a mellowing process, so I shall be a ripe and sweet old pippin before I die. Mr. March (laughing> -A 11 the phil osophy in the house is not iv my study, I see. SAN FRANCISCO, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 27, 1913 Prof. Antique s Antics ON NEW YEAR EVE Cartoon by Fred L. Packer you are old, r<atner 13," trie New Year said, "And your beard is both hoary and long; Yet you dug the canal that was finished ahead Of its time. What made you so strong? "At my birth," said the year, as it made its last bow, "I made no new year resolution; The strength that I saved in not making a vow I put in my strong constitution!" "You are old, Father '13; your youth it is gone, Yet tango and ragging you try From the afternoon dance to the break of the dawn— What makes you so wonderfully spry?" "In my youth," said the parent, "I took a long chance And invented the tangoing craze, And the lively attachment I got for the dance Has lasted the rest of my days." "You are old. Father '13, as you must agree; Your eyesight, in truth, must be weak. Yet you have a fine site at the P. P. I. E. Explain me that marvel, sir. Speak!" "I was lusty and strong on the day of my birth, And that was just one year ago; I turned on that day the first spadeful of earth. And since then I haven't been slow!" "You are old," said the Year that had just reached the town, "But your brain is remarkably clear; Oh. what is the liquor you used to drink down To preserve it, sir—whisky or beer?" "In my youth," said the sage, as he packed his valise, Spring Valley I drank with a qualm; But now in my age I've secured my release I drink only of Hetch Hetchy balm." "You are old. Father '13," the New Year said, "And have traveled in many a clime; Now. where, of all places wherein I shall tread, Will I have the most excellent time?" The question was put in the midst of the din That announced that the Old Year had passed; The answer was echoed: "The place you're now in; 'Tis the place where I stayed till the last!" No Place to Judge THK argn men grew heated. The three put down tUe i r ff I a s s es and adjourned to the curb on Powell street. The question under discus sion was: "Does a horse starting step out with his right foot or his left foot?" They waited eight minutes. Only automo biles and taxis started. Then they ad journeyed again to the tapestry room. The question is still unsettled. Matches <& Umbrellas "An English judge." said Justice T,ennon at a San Rafael dinner party last week, 'recently decided that matches and umbrellas were public property and nobody could be prose cuted for taking either of them. "There's a young lady typist in this town who wouldn't agree with that English judge. "She was lunching at Dennett's when a man took iter umbrella by mistake. She held him up sharply and, with a smiling apology, the man returned her umbrella and walked out. "This man. on his way home that evening, stopped at an umbrella shop and got six umbrellas, the property of various members of his family, which had been getting mended. On the car, afterwards, as he sat with his six umbrellas on his lap, he noticed the young lady of Dennett's. "When she rose to get off. the man amidst his umbrellas gave her an em barrassed look, and she said ooldly. as she passed him: " 'You seem to have had a good day. after all." " Figgeratnve "A schoolboy of 11," said Prof. Thomas R. Lounsbury. Yale's authority on English, M once gave an apt illustration of figurative usage. He gave it in a composi tion, writing: "*A flggerative saying is—to kep the wolf from the door. It does not mean to kep a real, live wolf from the door. A good in stance is when the landlord comes for the rent. He knocks at the door and you keep awful quiet in the hope that he will think there is nobody tn and go away.' " Market St. Quotations Tk Ahk By L. W. NELSON The All-Stars travel round the world, Playing here and playing there; They trot around our little globe All free of charge and free of care. They face the dread of seasickness Upon the wet and briny deep; They waste full many waking hours And many others while asleep. "Why do you do it?" they are asked. And straightway do they make reply: "Think, when the season's well begun, This trip will furnish alibi 1 * ♦ # "Why should we fail to play the game As well as what it should be played, If we can't run the bases well, And by the fans and press are flayed; If we should fumble grounders and Drop flies that come right in our mitts. If we should let sure outs get by And let them turn to safe base hits; If we should pull off bonehead plays And fail to find our batting eyes. Think how this All-Star round world trip Will furnish us with alibis!" The Candidate By WILLIAM F. KIRK BEHOLD the cheerful Candidate who hikes along the strand; He greets you with a fat cigar and shakes your honest hand; He asks you, "How is everything?" although he does not care If everything is awful or if everything is fair. He asks about your wife and child—he couldn't tell you wh\ ; You tell him you are single, but he heeds not your reply. He asks you to have a drink and makes it very clear By his uneasy actions that he treats but once a year. He watches while you drink it, just as if he'd like to say, "I hope to get your vote; that's why I'm treating you today."' He pays for what he purchased, lays down half a dollar more. Says, "See what all the boys will have," then hurries through the door. Behold the cheerful Candidate who bustles on his way And treats you like a brother just before election day. He does not mean the handshake that he gives you now and then. But he is not so much unlike a lot of other men. This world is full of handshakers saluting you and me Who are not cheerful candidates, and never hope to be. Professional Kleptomania Willis Polk, architect of many promi n c nt build ings in San Francisco and known as a man of un usual* origin ality in the pr of ess ion which still achieves most striking re sults by copy ing the works of men who have been dead from 500 to 2.500 years. is blamed for this yarn. "There was working for me at one time." Polk is alleged to bave said, "a fellow who was an excellent draftsman, but whose ability as a draftsman of draught beer was more marked than his professional skill. "When thts chap was in his cups he lost all sense of moral responsibility and would steal drawing implements from any one and pawn them for money with which to buy drink. He visually made good his pecula tions when he sobered up, but the habit was tiresome and 1 dis charged him after his ninth of fense. He did not take my ad monitions in good part, how ever. " 'What's the matter with you architects?' he demanded. 'You're all alike. I've been fired before for this same little thing, and it Isn't right. Here, there isn't an architect in the country who hasn't made his reputation by stealing the dome from St. Peter's, or some columns from the old Corinthians or Dorics, or a Greek theater from some poor, unknown fellow; and here, just because I take a %2i set of T squares, you ftre me. It ain't con sistent.' " Elect Trick At the dinner recently given by the Pacific Gas-and Electric company in celebration of the construction of its Dake Spaulding project one of the stories told was that concerning a lineman who had been short circuited by corn instead of electric "juice." and was haled before an Auburn po lice judge. "You are charged -with drunken ness," said tlie magistrate sternly. "Yes, your honor," said the abject prisoner at the bar. "And that while in that condition you attempted to look over a tran som. How do you account for such conduct?" "Yur honor, I am an electrician." "What has that to d<> with it?" "1 think —maybe—that 1 had a peak load on." gj|j!Sg PAGES 11 TO 18 Victuals vs. Ears Irwin Cobb, the humorist. Passed through San Francisco last spring and left thla story in loiter be hind: Down in Pad uoa h two darkies ran rival restau rants in tbe same street. Into one of these places one evening fame a six foot white man, who ordered and ate with gusto a dozen oysters, three lamb chops, a fried chicken, some sweet potatoes and an order of celery. "When he had finished he drew from his pocket a large clasp knife, opened it and began toying with the blade. "What kind of a place la that restaurant up the street?" he asked. "'Tain t much of a place," said the proprietor. "I didn't think it was. I had a meal in there last night, just about like this one, and what do you suppose that fellow had the nerve to charge me?" \ "T dunno. sah." replied the negro, timorously eyeing the knife. "He charged me a quarter. And T took out my knife and cut off his ears and flung them in his face. Then I knocked him down and walked over his stom ach. Oh, by. the way. how much do I owe you?" "About a dime, sah," said the darkey humbly. "Not more'n a dime." Then Xrnas Spirits The argument was growing bitter. The lawyer, who has offices in the First National Bank building, sud denly announced in vigorous tones: "Don't try to contradict me." "You're not angry, are you?" asked his companion. "No. I'm just warning you. Thin is no time of year to contradict a man who writes the Christmas gift checks." •Arm in arm they left the office to seek solace and forget the argument, Dealt in Futures George Supf. chief gunnymede at the Palace buffet, said he re ceived a letter from a friend In a small Nevada town recently. The friend was to be operated on soon for appendicitis, and sent Supf the following clipping from a country weekly: "John will be removed to a hospital in a few days to be operated on for appendicitis by Doctor . He will leave a wife and thre.e children."