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Show HE SET A NEW FASHION. No Tables at the Purple Dog, So "Tenderfoot" Got a Stool. "When I was in Arizona last winter." began the man whose anxious friends thought his lungs were gone a year ago and sent him West. "When you were in Arizona last, winter," interrupted a friend, "you learned to yell like a Comanche instead in-stead of pining away." "You are slightly mixed as to tribes," said the man who was not a "lunger," "and besides that yelling business is another story. What I wanted to tell you about was that I unconsciously set a new drinking fashion in Tucson." "And what was that?" demanded the chorus. "Why, I got a high stool from the luncheon counter in the rear of the Purple Dog and mopped up my whiskey whis-key sitting in front of a bar," he explained. ex-plained. "Would you believe that men would come in, rest their elbows on the bar and look at me for five minutes at a time with those cold, keen, straight shooting eyes men have out there? They had never before - seen such a thing. Finally,' they waxed curious, and sent a committee to ask me why I did it. "I'm used to sitting at a table in cafes drinking my liquor comfortably," I explained. "The Purple Dog affords no tables, and the whisky is about ten times stronger than that they hand over in New York. One needs to sit. "Before I left they thought the idea a good one, and soon there were so many chairs in front of the bar that a stranger on entering could not tell It from the feed , shop where Sambo handed out buffalo steak and eggs." "But I thought all the buffaloes were dead," said one of the party. "We'll have a drink, and then I'll tell you all about them." New York Tribune. . |
