Life — September 11, 1884 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

cal bs hind the clump of lilacs. There, on a garden seat they sat, he with his arm securely around Carrie's wai would shout out—" Fault!” or “Play!” “ Forty—thirty !" “Deuce!” etc., and then keep on talking just as if he had never interrupted himself. DEUCE! “ What in the world does this mean ?” I asked. IFE- 147 The old lady left the table and retired to the sitting-room. and every Carrie was in tears by this time. now, and then during his evidently interesting conversation he “T've been afraid of it all day,” she sobbed; “ Charley's been shouting the score so much for the last few days that he can't seem to get it out of his head. Oh, can't you make him stop? Please try.” But still he kept on. I took him to the hotel and put him | to bed. However, he continued to call score pretty much all night, and when morning came I sent for a physician. To | every question put to him by the doctor he replied, in a semi- yell: “ Thirty—all!" “ Vantage !" or “ Fault!” A few days of absolute rest, coupled with Carrie's careful nursing, brought him around all right, and the old lady by that time had forgiven his insulting behavior at the supper- table. Moreover, she even gave her consent when he spoke to her about her daughter. . . . . . . ° “Sairey,” said Mrs. Macgruder, thoughtfully, as they sat alone in the old house one autumn evening, “1 begin to b'lieve that I didn’t never guste understand the rules of that long tenners. My sakes! but it's a wonderful game, Sairey, it's a wonderful game!" CARLSBAD. A PHANTOM SHIP—Courtship. AS A matter of fact, anybody has a right to complain of ‘They both started. Carrie blushed violently, and Charley | coffee when he finds grounds for it in his cup. got up and came towards me. ‘ “You see,” he explained, “ of course we got tired of play- ing—FoRTY—FIFTEEN—after a while, and so we—FORTY —THIRTY—hit on this expedient of eluding the—GameE !—old lady. She hears me call score, and soshe—ARE YOU READY? | —thinks we are playing and goes on with her knitting. If 1 should stop—PLAy !—yelling for one minute, you ‘d see her head pop over that—'FTEEN ALL !—hedge.” This kind of thing went on for several days. One evening we were both taking tea at the Macgruders’ and Charley was very much preoccupied and nervous. Every time that Mrs. Macgruder would address a remark to him he would absent- mindedly murmur, “ Thirty all! or something of that sort, by way of reply, and finally he became decidedly noisy. 1 tried to remonstrate with him, but he only become more per- sistent in his repetition of the score. Carrie suggested that | another cup of tea would soothe him. “How many lumps of sugar ?” she asked. “ Forty—love !" shouted Charley, “You're entirely too familiar with my daughter, Mr. Sev- ern,” said the old lady, severely, “ An’ you need n't talk so loud.” “ Are you ready?” Charley called out, mechanically. “Ready for what?" asked Mrs. Macgruder, sharply. “1 ain't a-goin’ anywhere! Ef I don’t belong in my own house, where do I belong ?” “ Outside!” interjected Charley. “Ef you can’t control yourself, I ‘ll go to the—" “ Deuce!" he roared. Iris sad to notice that Jimmy is the constant companion of burglars. [No reflection upon the Republican Presidential Candidate is here intended.] x A SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING. N old lady stood on the corner of the Bowery and Great Jones street one wet day last week and waved her | umbrella at a Fourth Avenue car which had just passed. The red-headed conductor pulled the bell and stopped half way down the block. He waved his arm to the old lady to hurry up, but she picked her way very slowly and carefully among the puddles. Reaching the side of the car she halted and asked : “Is this a Third Avenue car?” “No!” shouted the angry conductor, giving the bell rope a | jerk. The car started ahead, and the old lady pursued it, again waving her umbrella. The conductor again pulled his bell and waited for her. As she came up panting, he said : “This is not a Third Avenue car. This is a Fourth Avenue car.” The old lady climbed on the car and said : “I didn't say it was a Third Avenue car. I want to go up Fourth Avenue, You should n't be so hasty, young man.” A procession of: three Fourth Avenue cars then filed up | the avenue. W. R. BENJAMIN. comicbooks.com