Judge — May 21, 1910 — page 8: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE LEONFISHERS GO TO GARDENING By Bn rire HE Leonfishers were suburbaniting; that is, they had purchased a cozy bungalow out in Yonkers, from the con- ning tower of which they could overlook the Hudson, The realty company from which they had purchased their new home hoped that they would overlook a few other things on the premises. The agent who sold them the place said that they were only a few feet from the water, and only after they had moved into the house and looked into the cellar, did they realize how near the water they were, “Don’t grumble about the water, my dear,"’ said Mr. Leonfisher. ** You know, it is fashionable these days to have private aquariums; besides, we can keep live fish fresh down here, and every Fri- day morning, before I go to bu: I can catch enough for dinner; or maybe we can keep swans “I suppose that agent thought it was deep enough to keep a pair of lobsters nterrupted Mrs, Leonfisher, ‘* I'll t hot for them Better not make it hot, my dea giggled the husband, ‘ We're not going to bathe in it. That furnace, though, would make a fine bathhouse in the summer- time.” Without paying any attention whatever to her husband's levity, Mrs. Leonfisher continued, ‘I thought we bought this place by the foot and not by the quart. You never even hinted that you were buying a steam- ahip pier. This certainly isn’t one of the ‘ six best cellars. Well, to make a long story short (before the editor’s blue NOT WHAT THEY SEEM, | REAR | | ENTRANCE | les “* Well, did you ever see such luck? My wife's e her money for false hair for © pan off these braids on her (Palls,) — 1. Mr. Cluephist been hounding me incessantly to braids, and here 's a chance for without costing me a cent."” pencil does it), the water was drained from the Leonfishers’ cellar—into a neighbor's. But there were other troubles. The high stone steps that led up to the house sagged and became distorted. It was a sort of a cross-eyed stair, and only a person with a clubfoot could walk up it comfortably. These steps, however, were repaired when legal steps were threatened. Then things went along quietly for a long time, until Mrs. Leonfisher, after reading some agricultural notes in the Ladies’ Apartment House Companion, became stricken with the idea Mr. Suburbs—* Hang it if the birds haven't gotten this vegetarian fad ! THE LIMIT. They ‘ve left the cut worms and eaten the seed I planted.” that she, too, would like to delve in agriculture, So she agri- cultured. There was a plot in the rear of the house about thirty feet long and twenty feet wide—no, I guess the plot was twenty-two feet wide. (You will notice how the plot thickens!) Up to date, nothing had thrived on this plot but rocks. The stones seemed to come up harder in their backyard than any- where else. It was certainly an ideal spot for cultivating natu- ral tombstones. “‘L wish we could have a garden of our own, pet,"’ began Mrs. Leonfisher, one evening, as they were seated in their spacious library. ‘Do you think it would cost much to have our yard spaded?”” “*Spaded!"” replied the husband merrily. got to get it blasted, my dear!” “You never seem to talk with any gravity.” “One can’t talk with gravity in this instance, Isabel, for the principle of gravity, you know, is that ‘everything that goes up must come down’; but as to sowing seed, why, every- thing that goes down doesn’t come up. See the point?” “Do be serious,” retorted the little lady. ‘ Perhaps we could cover the rocks with enough dirt to plant things in, for it will be just lovely to walk out into our backyard and pick “Why, we've i he INDI Y REAR’ ENTRANCE 2, ——1!1??!—— “Er, ah, er, p-p-pardon me, gentlemen, but the fact is, 1 thought those braids of yours were loose, and I was going to swipe ‘em for my wife's coiffure."*