Judge — July 12, 1913 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

A KANSAS burglar broke into a stranger’s house the other day and stole a three-dollar watch. After keeping it a few days, he slipped back and returned it. The people of Kansas think this is very queer, but to me it does not seem strange. T once had a three-dollar watch. It was just after they were put on the market, and I often carried it. Some- times I wouldn’t carry it more than a couple of blocks. Then I would leave it and come back the next morning, while I was feeling fresh, and get it. I was riot afraid of anybody stealing it, unless he brought a conveyance. It would not pay a light-fingered person to hire a rig just to purloin a three-dollar watch. I can see in my mind’s eye the look of surprise and chagrin that would come over the thief’s face sbould he chance to come across my watch in some doorway late at night and try to pick it up. He would soon have to retire, baffled. It was a large watch, as watches go. Only mine rarely went. One time I stepped on a banana peel and mashed over two innocent, bright-eyed children anda man with burnsides, 1 did notknow that he had burnsides until a patrolman got him out of the asphalt, or I would have tried harder to spare the children. No gentleman could wind that watch. Ihave tried it time and time and again. He might think he was a gentleman uns til he got into its throes, but the neigh- bors on his block wouldn’t let their chil- dren play outside after dusk. To wind it, I had to throw it prone on its face and cow it with a stove lifter. Then I would reach into its better self, blushing to my collar at the liberties I was taking, as a gentleman of breeding well might, and grope around until I came across one of the more prominent handle- bars. Taking advantage of my sex, I would twist and turn the machinery until I was thoroughly ashamed of myself. Stepping out, I would get the watch over on its flank, and, summoning up courage, look down into its open, frank face. Its look of pain and mortificatiun at my fa- A Watch To Waste By HOMER CROY miliarity would make me miserable the rest of the afternoon, Stifling my sense of shame, I would examine it carefully, to find that I had merely been whirling the second hand around. Not caring a whit for the plaudits or the contumely of the world, I would get under the watch and get it over on its face again. Then I would show more partiality in selecting a lever; I wouldn't take the first one I came across, but look over the whole selection and finally choose one in some out-of-the-way corner. I would try, as best I could, to select a lever that I believed to be intimately as- sociated with the daily conduct of the watch. I would twist this around until 1 felt that I had done all that was expected of me, and then take another look at the face of the watch. Then I would find that I had set it ahead eleven hours and twenty minutes, With a dogged, determined air so char- acteristic of successful men, I would te!l my family good-by and return to the front. After my eyes had become accus- tomed to the dark, I would come across the part that tightened the mainspring. Bracing my feet against some of the stronger joists, I would twist the wind- ing part until I felt that none could point a finger at me and say that I had not “1 WAS NOT APRAID OP ANYBODY STEALING IT.” lived a life of usefulness. Then I would withdraw. I would get the timepiece upon my knees, and finally work it into my pocket. By noon it would be run down again. But when it chose to run, it went atit vigorously, It ticked so awfully loud that my more immediate rela- tives moved far over to the West Side, and it jarred so there was always a large bruised spot under my watch pocket. A younger brother borrowed it to go fishing, and when he came back he said that it had rocked the boat and jarred the guide so that he had to go three miles down the bend to spend the night. If this was not my brother, I would think it was an exaggeration; but our family is not prone to exaggeration. I could not lose this instrument to save me. One time I put it in a bag with six kittens and took it down to the river's brink. I tossed it into the angry waters and returned to my abode, a light-hearted man. But peace and joy were not mine for long. The six humiliated creatures beat me home, only slightly wet behind the ears. The watch had shaken the bag to pieces and worked its way to shore. The next day two boys brought it to me, on a stick between them, and demanded areward. I told them they had shown splendid honesty and that they might keep the watch. Then I shut the door. The next day, as I was going through a vacant lot, somebody hit me with a rock, much to the chagrin of a favorite rib; but I have never found out who the guilty parties were. The watch was later found by an Italian groceryman in his basement. He had been receiving threatening letters, and so the watch was wheeled to the bureau of combustibles, where an assistant was maimed in the thigh when the mainspring slipped. The people in Kansas may think it queer that the burglar returned the timepiece, but it is no mystery to me. The burglar probably loved his family devotedly and could not bear to see his innocent babes playing with the weapon. comicbooks.com