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Show """'" MET THEia MATCHES. Ttro Californians Who Learned tho Fail Regulations a Moment Late. Frank Happersberg, the sculptor, and Jim Yung, the restaurateur, were out I viewing tho remains of the Midwinter fair a few days ago, when both found ihemselvea with cigars and without matches. "Ah, I have it" remarked Yung. 'Come over to the Manufactures building. build-ing. I have a fiiend .there who has a match exhibit and we can get what we want" They walked to the booth, and as the proprietor wasn't there Jim took the liberty of helping himself to the great pile of was matches. "Take all you want, Frank," he remarked. re-marked. "He's got a wagonload here and don't want them." , Happersberg commenced filling hi pockets. "I'll need some at my studio, and he filled his trousers pockets "Ought to have some at my room, too,'-and too,'-and his vest pockets were loaded. "We always need them on my naphtha launch," and his coat pockets commenced com-menced to bulge. . "Guess I'll take some home, " remarked remark-ed Jim as he commenced loading hia clothes. "A few wouldn't- come amiss at the restaurant either. " Then they walked out looking like a pair of smugglers loaded for a customs officer. At the door they met the ownei of the booth. Happersberg had been scratching matches on his trousers the whole length of the building, but tker wouldn't light Yung had also worn a 6lick streak on his pantaloons. "What's the matter with thesn matches?" he inquired of the exhibitor- "What matches?" "Why, yours. We helped ourselves to a box or two, as you weren't there," "Oh, there is no phosphorus on them. The fair managers wouldn't al' low genuine matches in the building. Those are just painted wax" Yung and Happersberg stole down to Stow lake and unloaded. San Francisco Francis-co Post. |