Life — August 25, 1904 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

TOMMY'S SUSPICIONS. My daddy says that when he was ‘A boy, he never eried Ner ran away from school to go A-swimmin’; never tried To cut a lickin’, never failed To do as he was bid— (Well, maybe daddy didn’t, then— ut gran’ma says he did!) My daddy brags a lot about The way boys acted wh Me was a boy. (Gee! but they must *A" been ‘most angels then!) He says he never dared to peep Beneath the cakebox lid— (Well, maybe not; but, anyway, My gran'ma says he did!) “I never tied a tin can A dog's tail in my life! Says dadd My ‘nitials with a knife In great big glarin’ capitals On the piano lid’ (That's what he te But gran’ma says he “Ant T never carved sollumly— “T never cared for cir An’ brass bands an’ such things” (Say—honest! that’s just what he said “An’ tops an’ devil slings. T never waited after school To lick some other kid. (Ile says he never done those things— But gran’ma says he did!) Say! but my gran’ma’s mighty wise; She knew my daddy when He was a little runt, an’ says He was a terror then! He says he never cut up none The times he was a kid— (1 know I ought to b'lieve him, but My gran'ma says he did!) —Lowell Otus Reese, in Leslie's Weekly. Lire is for sale by all Newsdealers in Great Britain, The International News Loko Kitcuesee, of the British Army, recently made an army order placing the regimental school- master at the disposal of officers, that they might have an opportunity to complete their elementary educa tions nstance of his grim humor. But it has often been demonstrated that the schoolmaster is needed among the British officers. Some queer, quaint efforts at composition have been made in bri- gade orders. A certain major ordained not long ago that: “Rereillé will be at 3:30 4. mM. The brigade a good de at 44. M. The brigade will move at 4:15 The sun will rise at 5 a. M." It was during the guerrilla war of 1901-2 after the building of the blockhouses, that it became necessary to check the he: i habit of the men of sleeping outside the blockhouses for the sake of coolness and comfort. A certain staf ficer thereupon issued the following quaint order No one is permitted to sicep outside the blockbouses except the sentrie Thirdly, though the intention of this order is clear, its phrascology is not: on outpost duty are forbidden to strike 1 the sky-line."—Argonaut, “Men thes oa A uivety looking porter stood on the rear plat form of a sleeping-car in the Pennsylvania station, when a fussy and choleric old man clambered up the sters. He. stopped at the door, puffed for a moment and then turned to the young man in uniform. “Porter,” he said, “I'm going to St. Louis, to the fair, I want to be well taken care of. I pay for it. Do you understand?" Yes, sir, but” Never mind any ‘buts.’ You listen to what [ say. Keep the train boys away from me. Dust me off whenever I want you to. Give me an extrs blanket, and if there is any one in the berth over me, slide him into another. I want you to"— “But, say, boss, I"— “Young man, when I'm giving instructions, 1 prefer to do the talking myself. You do as I ay. Here is a two-dollar bill, I want to get the good of it. Not a word, sir.” The train was starting. ‘The porter pocketed the bill with a grin and swung himself to the ground. Ml right, Loss!" he shouted. “You can do the talking if you want to. I'm powerful sorry you wouldn't let me tell you—but I ain't going out ox that train."—Cleveland Plain Dealer. Ox his last visit to America, Paderewski, the eminent pianist and composer, was introduced, some what against his will, to a man of little apparent cul: ture who professed great interest in music and mach intimacy with its finer phases. “We artists, you know, Mr. Paderewski, marked, “have our moods and tastes which the ordinary man is incapable of understand: ing or sympathizing with. You, Mr. Paderewski have your instrument, to which your life is a devo tion, and I have mine. I rejoice in you as a brother he re in common, w inquired the great virtuoso, w desperate politeness, “is your instrument, Mr. — “The mandolin, sir,” was the proud response Horper’s Weekly. Company, Bream’s Building, Chancery Lane, London, E. C., England, AGENTS. WILSON WHISKEY That’s of All! $4.00. $1.50. Dainty Verse and Pictures. ‘A handsome box containing Taken from LIFE, in red leather and gold. Rhymes and Roundelays, in green leather and gold. In Merry Measure, in dark blue leather and gold. Price of each volume, ESTERBROOKS Steel Pens Chicago’s Theater Train—11:30 —NEW YORK CENTRAL comicbooks.com Wh we oy ne bri int