When to buy and what to stake —
Then, perhaps, you might make money,
Such as father used to make."
There! I'm greatly relieved now that I've got that song off my mind. I was afraid I might break down, because it's so touching.
Talking of relief, puts me in mind of a friend of mine who wanted to be relieved, in the worst way, of a barrel of over-ripe sauerkraut. When I heard his tale of woe, I laughed so that I had to go and buy a new pair of suspenders.
You see, he had a German friend who had the kraut and didn't know what to do with it, so he offered to send it home to my friend Jenkins. Jenkins accepted and stored it in his cellar.
The next day, the fellow upstairs, named McCarthy, came down and raised thunder with his wife. When Jenkins came home he heard all about it. He went upstairs and saw the offender.
"Say," says he, "I understand you object to the smell down in my cellar."
"No," says McCarthy, "I don't object to it down there, but when it opens the cellar door and creeps upstairs I do object. It kept me awake all last night."
"Well," said Jenkins, "I'll put it out in the yard behind the dog house."
And he did.
The next morning he went out to feed the dog and found him – dead.
That day nine families moved out of Jenkins' flat, and the tenth was just going when he donated the kraut to an orphan asylum. The orphans broke loose and took leg bail.
There wasn't any one but the janitor to feed it to and he threatened to quit.
The last Jenkins heard of the kraut, it was about to be shipped to Dick Croker to sod his lawn at Wantage.
I came near being put under the sod myself the other day.
I heard that one of my best and oldest friends, J. Fishpond O'Morgan, was down with rheumatism in his arm, so I went around to see him.
As soon as I showed my face in the door, Fishpond howled:
"I'm saved."
I did not know what he was driving at, so I said:
"Sure."
"I want you to do me a favor," says he. "Go around to Prof. Sockem's and tell him to give you some of the usual medicine."
I went to old Sockem's, and just caught him in.
"Doctor," says I, "my friend O'Morgan sent me around for some of the usual for gout."
"All right," says he. "Arm, I suppose. Just roll up your sleeve."
I thought I had struck a maniac, so I tried to humor him.
He came back with a suspicious-looking black bottle and I thought I was a gone goose sure. You see, I had heard so much about the black bottle.
He grabbed my wrist in a grip of iron, poured some of the black bottle stuff on my arm and began to rub it, gently.
Then he began to rub harder and faster, and I could see my arm swell up like a pillow under the fearful treatment.
I kicked, and finally managed to break loose.
"You confounded scoundrel," I says, "what do you mean by assulting me?"
"Assulting you?" says he; "you wanted some of the usual and you got it good and hard, but let me sell you some of my medicine for swollen arms. It's the best thing in the world for such cases."
Did you ever notice what a lot of trouble a simple, little girl may make? Oh! you girls. You're never happy unless you're making some poor lobster show how much money he has, by blowing it in on you.
You know, though, girls, I appreciate you, if no one else does.
If it weren't for you, I'll bet a dollar to Rockfeller's oil-can that none of the young fellows I see here to-night would have ever thought of coming here.
Now I'm going to sing you a little warble entitled:
"What a Surprisingly Fresh Man That Jones Is; or, I'd Like to Meet Him Outside."
Many a man has often cussed,
For only an innocent maid;
Many a bank has gone in the dust,
For just an innocent maid;
Many a judge has not been just,
To only an innocent maid;
Many a saint went on a bust,
For just an innocent maid.
Cho. When Johnny goes to his lady's house
She greets him with a smile;
At once she starts the glim to douse
So he can propose in style.
Many a milkman has got the sack,
For only an innocent maid;
Many a dude has been knocked on his back,
For just an innocent maid;
Many a doctor has had to quack,
For only an innocent maid;
Many a dollar is won on the track,
For just an innocent maid.
Cho. When Johnny takes her to the altar,
He may think it's for his good,
In his opinion soon he'll falter,
When she makes him split the wood.
Many a cop has left his beat,
For only an innocent maid;
Many a gambler has had to cheat,
For just an innocent maid;
Many a commuter has given his seat,
To only an innocent maid;
Many a lover has known pa's foot,
For just an innocent maid.
Cho. Johnny thinks he's caught a prize,
When he's only been married a week;
But when she feeds him on apple pies,
He feels like taking a sneak.
Did you hear that peculiar toot the fellow with the big horn gave when I finished up?
That means "Rotten" in his low vocabulary. He's got a grudge against me.
Once, when he didn't occupy his present high position, he came to me and wanted me to stake him the price of the horn he just insulted me with.
"What!" says I. "Are you going to learn to be a blower? Don't you think you are nuisance enough already?"
You see, I wanted to save the money. He stood firm though, and I had to cough up.
About a week later he came around looking a perfect wreck. His eye was closed, his head bandaged, and his clothes in shreds.
"What's the matter?" says I. "Couldn't you manage the horn."
"Well, you see, Brother Jones," says he, "I could manage the horn all right, but I could not manage the neighbors."
This same fellow is a bird fancier. He breeds all kinds of birds.
I asked him to blow me to a small hot bird and a cold bottle now that he was so wealthy, and the stare he gave me was so cold that it froze the highball I carry in my pocket flask.
I don't care, though, if I didn't have the hot bird I had a cold bottle.
He has a great flock of homing pigeons.
The other day he bet a fellow named Robinson, that he could select two out of the bunch that would come home no matter where they were taken.
Robinson thought a while, and then said he'd bet they couldn't come home from Coney Island. I held the stakes.
When the birds were selected and put in the basket, Robinson slyly