Life — August 28, 1913 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

By pe decided to get married.” Miss Abstrum wheeled around in her office chair and almost caused her lawyer to fall from his own chair by the suddenness of her announcement. “Married!” he ex- claimed. “ Why—” “Well, why not? Don't you suppose that a woman whose head is immersed in business affairs has some sentiment to her? You don’t know human na- ture, Mr. Betty, if you think that. Just because my dear old father left me ten millions, which has simply necessitated my becoming a business woman, and sticking to the job, is no reason— but why argue. You get me a hus- band, understand. And don't bring in everyone here for me to look over. Study the situation; study me if you wish, but narrow it down to as few as possible. Let me know in advance, and I'll look ‘em over. That'll be all to-day. If I want you I'll "phone. Good day.” “ But,” stammered Mr. Betty, “if I could get a more detailed description of your requirements. You see, our relations have been strictly business, and I haven't had time to think of the kind of article you would like. I a “ Well, think! Don’t ask me to think for you. Put what mind you have on it, and don't bother me to-day. Isn't that what I hire you for? That'll be all. Good day.” Mr. Betty was the most man alive. The responsil imposing job almost floored him. the emergency he determined to con- sult his sister. He fell into a taxicab and went immediately to her house. His sister was a married woman who had a family, and with it some ex- perience. “Miss Abstrum, my star client, wants to get married,” he gasped, “ and she wants me to pick out a husband for her. If I make a mistake—well, it will be all day with me—you can see that. I might lose her—I would be sure to lose her—she would never for- give me—and yet what am I to do? oleae Ree He Guessed Right I know nothing of these delicate mat- ters of the heart. Why, the greatest intellect in the world is likely to be fooled. How can I tell the kind of a man she will like? And, after I have looked him up and think he is all right, the moment he is married he may turn out a good-for-nothing.” Betty’s sister laughed. “The wisest thing you ever did,” she said, “was to come straight to me. How old is Miss Abstrum?” “ About forty.” “She's a good business woman, isn’t she?” “Best I ever saw. A little close, but that's a habit that grows. Square as a die, though.” “And she sent for you this morning and asked you to select a husband for her?” Y “Well, you are a brilliant person. But that, of course, is just the one she would naturally select—her opposite. Now, my dear John, don't waste a mo- ment. Just go right back, tell het you have found the man, and offer her— yourself.” “What do you mean?” “She wants you. Besides, anyone else would make you lose her for a client—any man she married would nai urally expect to run her affairs for het “Don't fool yourself about that.” “Well, don’t wait—run back—cour- age! Take my advice. “T shall break down. “Don't worry. She will attend to that.” She bundled him into the cab, which was still waiting for him. He sped back to Miss Abstrum’s office. He entered. She was still writing. “Well?” Betty closed the door. deathly pale. "ve got him!" he gasped. “Who? The husband?” “Yes.” “Where is he?” Betty wiped the moisture from his brow. “Here!” he gasped. “Me!” Miss Abstrum reached over and patted him on the hand. “There, there, my dear,” she said. His face was “Don’t distress yourself. you would understand. ranged the details?” “Not yet—this is so sudden—will arrange everything in next few hours and send you typewritten memo- randum, giving itinerary of wedding journey, cost, ete.” He leaned forward nervously. “My dear,” he stammered, taking her hand slowly, “er, pardon my pre- sumption, but I don’t quite understand. What I want to know is, how I struck it right? How did you come to want mer” Miss Abstrum, in reply, patted him again, this time on his partly bald head. “ My dear boy,” she said, “don’t you see that by combining we save the expense of all your fees I thought Have you ar- Tele M. Modem “WAITER, bring me some raw oysters with negro minstrels, a steak with some barcfoot dancers, and an ice with operatic singers.” “Yes, suh, What'll you have to drink, suh?” “ Nothing acrobats.” but black coffee with “YOUNG FISH SEEMS TO BE A RISING YOUNG CHAP.” “YES, BUT THE LINE MUST BE DRAWN SOMEWHERE, AND I FEAR HE WILL NOT BE IN THE SWIM THIS SEASON.” comicbooks.com