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Show HAPPENINGS ABOUT TOWN By C. W. D. The smoke of political battle has cleared away. Somebody had to be disappointed. It's just like a domestic do-mestic tilt when friend wii'e has the last word and feels that popular approval ap-proval should be hers. We're for friend wife mostly at meal time when she somehow reaches beyond the heart and makes us sigh with a sort of dietetic satisfaction. So we say to you political fellows who also ran, let the little housekeeper bind up your wounds and revive your flagging spirit with a good homey dinner that is garnished only with the parsley of love. You'll feel better and forget that you ever tried to attain a political office, the value of which may not have compensated you for the sac-, rifice of being away from home. Al Kirk's some sprinter and should he on the All-American as the champion tape-breaker of this good, old United States. . We saw him do a furlong in pursuit of a. tin packard that gave us a thrill, and he nearly caught the dashing whizz wagon that was reeling along at 40 per. We think that, if Al had got his second wind, he could have chased tnat xaniaiiiiuB' clear to Malone, without trickling a drop of perspiration; but wo wouldn't want to wager the family jewelry on the result. We knew a fellow who could run. As fast as any rabbit; This fellow chased a fleeting Ford, But, oh, he couldn't grab it. Speaking of Fords. Our friend Dick, Dickinson of the Salt Lake has a Hunkatin that he keeps " sleek as a race horse. Dick thinks more bf this little chugger than ' does of his nickel-plated waterbury, and he got that fcr declaiming. "The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck", at a church picnic when he 1 was still in knirkeroclrei s. D'"'--a nprtlri'lir ppsorfrnpnt of h-l""r- j rnnf!iir v., lit Crr - discomfort, can tear the cobbles from a county highway like a trn--tor, and never blow a tire. And Bill Martin's "it one tnn t T-n?n a ford. not. rv V"'r tr. family name. We saw Bill sashaying sashay-ing down Main street "he other dnv with Clarence Cline. The poster- (or end of Bill's Detroit watch-charm watch-charm was bobbing like a spring wagon on the rocky road to Dublin, and Clarence was clinging to the doughty one like a frantic lover. Tv.ese nnWic disnlavs of affection are fine examples for the more timorous tim-orous young men who seek embraces em-braces but lack the courage to achieve ac-hieve them. Fred Dunston's been down here for seven years and knows a baggage bag-gage check like the time on his watch. Dresser trunks, and steamer trunks, and every other variety look alike to him when the headlight of the Big Mogul shines down the track, and he can spin tnose n.-ticles n.-ticles like a jap juggler does a barrel. bar-rel. Fred knows his business from check to chuck, hut he's been so preoccupied pre-occupied with his work that he hasn't had an opportunity to cast a wistful glance on the lovelv mM-enhood mM-enhood of our settlement. We should like to see some fair daughter daught-er of Venus clinging to Fred's arm like a kni'.ting bag. Charley Henderson and I went hunting the other (lay with Joe Hamilton's dog Buster. Buster's a cockerel spaniel, minus an ear that was lost in a joust for a ladies smile. The cockel-hurrs were thick but the rabbits were not. When we returned. return-ed. Buster's hair looked like It had jbeen done up in stays, and it took a busy sciesors thirty minutes to restore re-store the unfortunate canine to r. state of comfort. Mike, the hull-terrlor. hull-terrlor. for next time. Jay Gould came off his run the other night looking like a Florida cracker after a visit In Pittsburg. mm (continued on pge 4) HAPPENINGS ABOUT TOWN continued from 1st page) Jay can climb up into the family tree and find the branch of relationship rela-tionship with the famous Jay of other days who. by the way, was also al-so engaged in transportation. Speaking Speak-ing of the smoky city, reminds us of one of O'Henry's. He spoke of a certain notable who first saw the light of day at the age of three. He was born in Pittsburg. Bill Hermann, who swings into Caliente with the Limited, and 'rack again, thinks more of shirt patterns than he does of matrimony. matrimo-ny. Bill's got one, a dark blue, with white polka-dots the size of a farm-freckle, that would be the envy en-vy of a Georgia minstrel. Bill doesn't believe in the" old adage that, "the happy man's without a shirt," and so he's laid in a supply of assorted colors, all blue, that should last him longer than the Crown Prince's nose. The happy man's without a shirt. That's true as it can be; But still I'd hate to go without, Where anyone might see. ' Tom Martin and Joe Hamilton went into the hills for a load of wood. Tom weighs 230 barefooted, and is as strong as a colossus. Joe's got a set of muscles that would show up admirably on a black screen at the Orpheum. Tom's daily exer cise is reading the newspaper. Joe keeps in trim with the magazines. They got the load. On the way back, Joe sang, His cord from the old apple tree wouldn't keep home fires burning, but it would warm the soul to hear him sing it in his inim-itatable inim-itatable baritone. I said they got the load. Tom didn't show up that night, and Joe went to bed early.' Moral: If newspapers and maga-. zines don't give you the proper exercise, ex-ercise, eat grape nuts. She used to exercise each day, And did without her dinner; Alas, she gained a dozen pounds, Instead of getting thinner. Paul Kimball came into Brook's Drug Store the other evening looking look-ing like the ace of spades.. As soon as the druggist recognized him, there was a burst of laughter that made the passerby pause. We didn't recognize Paul either with his coat ci black and thought that some sojourner ' from the cotton belt had stopped for a day enroute to a blander climate. It brings to mind a story. A surgeon was at the bedside of one of our colored doughboys. "Where you from?" he asked. "I'se from Alabama, Boss. And when I gets back thah, I ain't" gcin' ter he from Alabama no mon." They call 'em doughboys there; And nothing can impede 'em; They call 'em doughboys too, Because the allies knead 'em. Before the compliment got cold. Miss Sims laid aside that cerulean-attire cerulean-attire for a very becoming black which won our eye and incidentally incidental-ly our praise. Some folks can wear blue gingham and a sunbo"'-look sunbo"'-look more charming than a New York fashion ad. Her new frock suits the season and also suits her, but a touch of autumn scarlet or yel-law yel-law would have brought more than a paragraph of admiration from us. Speaking of duds. Doc Swanson used to tell a story about folks wear ing clothes to match the hair. A brown suit for brown hair. A white suit for white hair. A black one for black hair. And if a fellow were baldheaded but you couldn't wear a bathing ,suit along the Beaver river. riv-er. Don't forget. Thanksgiving's just ahead, and .Christmas is coming over the hill. Bud Macauley says that they're going to have some Thanksgiving at their house, and he's going to get one end of the wish bone. This is the season when fellow gets homesick and reminiscent reminis-cent and I'd like to be in Bud's shoes for that cue day of the year. This is the season when we wish, We had much larger means; If I can't get a turkey-leg, I'll dine on pork and beans. Beiieve me. if I can rustle six bits honestly or otherwise. I am going to feast at Mother Atkins. That weekly ad apropos turkey, is good for the big feast day in November, and I want to light against one at those sumptuous tables hungrier than a Broadway beggar. And, after af-ter it's all over, and I feel like Epi-cureus. Epi-cureus. with empty dishes before me, I'm going to light a havana per-' fecto and dream about it until duty calls. Miss Cambers who teaches the little lit-tle ones about the cat on the mat, came from a pretty environment in southern Oregon where the tall pines used to croon her to sleep. Nearby her home, is a beautiful lake whose clear and placid waters shine like a mirror in the sun. Each fall, when Nature puts on her Jacob's coat of many colors, clouds of wild fowl settle there for the autumn feast. Miss Cambers is adept with the gun and boasts of having shot a canvas back with a 22 short, a feat which few of our local nim-rods nim-rods could equal. This is only one of her many accomplishments. She is an expert horsewoman, skilled with the paddle, and proficient in handling the lasso. The youthful elegibles in the neighborhood had better look out for the noose. We received a letter from Miss Rena Van Wormer who is sojourning sojourn-ing in Los Angeles for the winter. Miss VanWormer states that she has really been too busy to write any of her friends because of the patriotic demands that have been made upon her time, but she soon hopes to fulfill this part of her social so-cial obligations. We miss this little lit-tle lady's very pleasant personality, and think it expedient that she return re-turn here in the spring, when all th other sweet and pretty flowers are in bloom. How's that for handing someone we like a fragrant bouquet Al Gray just got back form Beryl Ber-yl where he was engaged in some difficult work, fishing tools out of a well and then completing it. That new pair of khaki breeks he bought of Charley Sloan looks like a quar-ryman's quar-ryman's Sunday trousers, and has a color like a. cigarette smoker's left index finger. Al tells one about a Sweed up country who always sat down to- breakfast without washing his hands. "Ole," said a friend, "dont you wash your hands before breakfast?" "Naw," replied Ole, "sleeping don't make me dirty." Jim Patterson whizzed, into town the other day. but we didn't recognize recog-nize him under that college cap Jim's got the size for a half hack on the University, eleven, and the grit that goes with it, and we'd like to see him plunge for five yards on the gridiron some rainy afternoon. We're not making any reflections about caps, but that one Jim sports makes him look like a freshman classmate at Provo. Uncle Elbert said he never knew how many close friends he had until he tried to borrow money He found 'em all close. Ed McCafferty, night yardmaster of the Salt Lake, has a pair of corduroys cor-duroys that whistle when' he walks. Ed says he has them trained so well that they afford more amusement than a Victrola. Remember the whistle of willow, We cut at the old willow tree? I wish that my years were eleven, With boy brimming over in me. W. S. S. |