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Show I VISITS WITill JSVMbEBIf 1 "Fcr Saie." When Mis. Brighton saw She "For Sale" sign on her beautiful suburban lot she was wroth. 'The idea!" she exclaimed,. ''ovf that In - id real estate man selling, my p rojerty without even con-si: con-si: ! i : ng me about ii ! " Ten minutes later a much composed com-posed lady entered the real estate office of-fice of Jobu Le Messurier and taking tak-ing a seat, suavely suave-ly asked: "What is the price of the lot at the corner of Park boulevard and Al-den Al-den street?" "Park boulevard and Alden street," repeated (he real estate man, turning turn-ing over the locar tion in his mind. "Er I don't believe be-lieve you want that lot, madam. Now, here is something much better and for less money! " "But I want that particular corner," insisted the woman, wom-an, with a determined deter-mined air. 'UeaHy, madam, to be absolutely honest with you, I haven't that lot for sale," admitted Mr. Le Messurier, regretfully. "But your for-sale sign is on the property!" insisted ihe lady, .firmly. "My sign?" "Yes, sir, your sign! And now I want to know what you mean by putting put-ting your signs on my property without with-out first consulting me! I don't want to sell that lot! I love it, sir!" impressively. im-pressively. "It isn't for sale at any price, do you understand?" "Jimmie!" called the real estate agent. "Come here!" A freckle-faced lad of seventeen slouched up to his employer's desk. "Did you put a sign on the corner of Park boulevard and Alden street?" "I dunno!" "Did you put a sign on the property prop-erty catter-corner from the old bridge?" "Yes, sir!" "I told you to put it on the opposite oppo-site corner! Now don't you see the trouble you have got me into?" The boy looked sheepish. "Oh, never mind', Mr. Le Messurier," cooed Mrs. Brighton, in a conciliatory voice. "Maybe you'd better sell it anyhow, if you can. My husband says he guesses we "frill build on our other lot!" "It is really amusing," remarked the real estate man, telling me about it, "what funny notions city people have of suburban property. They come out to the suburbs some bright June morning when all the world is a song, and they buy a lot and go home happy. The next time tney come out they bring somebody who just wouldn't live away fromthe city for anything. Maybe it rains, or somebody has dumped a load of cans on their lot, or something inartistic has been discovered about the location. loca-tion. As a result, the purchaser whr was so happy -in the new possession, comes in and puts the lot back OB the market. "City people are thoughtless, toe, about suburban purchases. One young couple bought a lot, cleared it ant? were as happy as clams getting ready to build. Then, all at once, they thought how late it would be before they could get home during the opera season! As a result they threw np all the plans they had made and went back to their herring box in the city. "Hello! Here's the mail!" opening a letter. "Now what do you think of that?" He handed be a communication postmarked Chicago. I read: "Dear sir: -Be sure and don't sell my lot at the corner of Park boulevard and Alden Al-den street. My husband and I have decided we will build on it this season!" sea-son!" It was signed by Mrs. Brighton. "She's changed her mind again," ! chortled. "But too late," grinned the real estate, es-tate, man. "I sold the lot yesterday!" Lyre Strums. A brass band is said lo have lesr tinguished a fire in New Orleans by playing "Roll, Jordan, Roll!" d t -to A New York woman wants $15,01 for two kisses. Aw, come off! I could make arrangements for almost any nice young man lo get kissed all his life for that amount! "ir ir A Frenchwoman tells my wife, through the newspapers, that no woman wom-an can dress properly for less than $10,000 a year. Gee, I shouldn't have spent that last two dollars for flower seeds! A A ?i " The cost of living has reached lit climax and is now on the wane," says a Chicago newspaper. And yesterday the meat trust made me pay 74 cents for (wo pounds' of beefsteak! That must, have been the apex to the ell max! BYRON WILLIAMS. |