Life — November 3, 1904 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

Thought He Was at Home. N Irishman somewhat under the influence of liquor, ambling toward home on a recent evening, happened to pass a church, and, being attracted by the sound of the music, | gaused for a while and then staggered toward the entrance. | With his natural bump of caution, however, he looked at the spire to see that the proper kind of cross was on it, for to the mind of| most good Catholics it would be almost a sacrilege to go into a Protestant church. He saw the cross, which apparently satisfied his scruples, and he went in, sitting down in a pew near the door. The heat being somewhat oppressive, he fell asleep. | After the service had ended the sexton began at the altar to turn out the lights. Coming down the aisle he tripped over the | foot of the sleeping man in the pew, and, look- ing down, diagnosed the case in a moment. He gave the sleeping man a shake and said: “See here, my good man, wake up and get out of here at once. You are in the wrong place, anyway—this is not your church.” The Irishman sat up, rubbed his eyes and, developing an argumentative strain, said in a rather thick, guttural voice: “It ain't my church? Whose church is it if it ain't mine?” is the Protestant Episcopal church “It’s no such thing!” ‘T tell you it is, and you must get out of here.” He straightened himself up, and pointing < wavering finger toward the altar, said: isn’t that the statue of St. Joseph up there om the right?” The sexton was forced to reply in the affirm- ative. “Ain't that the Virgin’s statue on the left?” “Yes,” replied the sexton. “What is that in the center?” “That is the statue of our Saviour.” The Irishman, with a look of mingled tri- umph and contempt, said, looking the sexton 3s nearly in the eye as he could: “For God’s sake, whin did thim turn Prot- estants?"—Lippincott’s Magazine. Wise Servants. THERE is no personage more deeply and TIFFANY & CoO. Diamond and Gem Merchants, Gold and Silver Smiths, Stationers and Dealers in Artistic Merchandise For Brides and Bridesmaids Tiffany & Co. invite attention to their WEDDING STATIONERY Marriage announce- ments, invitations for house or church weddings, admission cards, etc., that are correct in phrase- ology, superior in workmanship and in shapes approved by refined taste. large stock of rich gem jewelry now ready for the fall and winter season, notably ropes, collars and necklaces of pearls. Brooches, corsage ornaments, lavalliéres, Samples and prices gpon request sautoirs, stomachers, tiaras, rings, etc., in many beautiful Many of the pieces are designed with the unusual. qualities of the rare gems selected, and the beautiful effects thus produced particular reference to combinations of diamonds and other precious stones. Wedding certificates engrossed and illu- minated on parch- ment arranged as a scroll or in folio form with white morocco cover, gold mono- gram, etc. are distinctly individual in character Designs and Prices upon request Souvenirs for Bridesmaids and Ushers Gold bangles, bracelets, brooches, rings, stick pins, etc., of novel and fitting designs, $5, 10 to 25 upward Also gold scarf pins, sleeve links, pearl cravat pins, silver cigarette cases, match boxes, etc., for ushers Correspondence solicited Tiffany & Co.’s 1904 Blue Book giving complete list and range of prices, sent without charge to any address Union Square New York Tiffany & Co. are strictly retailers. They never sell to other dealers deferentially aware of his own import-& ance than the English butler; next to him in privileges, and ahead of him in sturdy frank- ness, must stand the Scotch gardener. a was Darwin’s gardener who, when a friend of the family inquired after the health of the famous naturalist, who had been somewhat ail- 'ng, replied confidentially that he did not doubt his master would be better “if only he could ind something to do!” The gardener of Professor Huxley, with ‘qual unconsciousness of doing so, also cast aslur upon his renowned employer. Mrs. Huxley, fearful that he might be over- worked, had inquired if he did not need some assistance. “No,” came the reply, “the place is not very large, and Mr. Huxley is almost as good as an- Other man.” Better than either of these true tales is that of the butler in a fine old English family, whose long service had caused him to feel a personal and proprietary interest in the sons and daugh- ters of the house. He could not acquit him- self of a sense of responsibility for their man- ners and conduct, and when at a large dinner. party he noticed one of them, a young girl who had but recently entered society, devote an amount of attention to her agreeable neighbor on the right obviously in excess of that ac- corded to the less fascinating gentleman on her other side, his perturbation increased till it could no longer be borne in silence. Under pretense of passing her a dish, he managed cleverly to whisper in her ear: A little more conversation to the left, miss.” —Youth’s. Companion. comicbooks.com