The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1883-04-12
How the Fates Work Against Poor Jones

It has sometimes been doubted thas
there is divinity which shapes our endt
rough--hew them how we NAV. but
there is one man in this city, who be.
: lieves he is foreordained, predestined,
predetermined to suffer. Poor Jones
he seems to spend his whole life in offer
ing to Mrs. Jones-an excellent woman.
by the way-a series OF apologies for
doing things he never did, and he no
sooner gets out of one scrape than he
plunges into another. If Mrs. Jones
has fault it is that of loving Mr. Jones
too much for his own good and being SO
particularly fond of him herself. she
imagines every other woman must be, 30
at times Jones finds his life hardly worth
living.
q 1t always happens, too, at some time
when he is in a peaceful, pious frame OF
mind, walking firmly in the paths of rec
titud\e and hourishing like bay rum
tree. Nor instance, just few nights
ago he sAid, after supper, that he believed
he'd 20 down town few minutes and
look at the new electric light. and Mrs.
Jones asked him to mail some letters
for her, and he 4tarted out. whistliug
"r want(o be an angel"
On the way doEn it occurred to him
that he might rs w9l stop at the BARRIERS
and get shaved, and he did SO. Then he
went to look at the Tight, and as he
walked along the sidewalk, where it was
as bright as day. he saw aNady in front of
him drop folded paper\ out Of her
n purse. He started forward, Hicked it up
Nnd presented it CALAMITY to- the lady,
sayinA
"MadsA,, you dropped this id st now"
Now, the most that he expected was
grateful "thauk you = but instead Npf that
the womangave terrible scream grabbed
hold of policeman who was saunteEing
by, and, pointing out Jones, shrieked;
"That man insulted mew
Jones attempted to explain, but the
policeman told him to hush up or he
would club him, and then asked the woN
man if he should arrest him. She said
n-n.o, she would hate to have to appear
in court against such creature as that,
and so after taking Jones' name and
number he let him go.
Jones went home; he had tasted enough
adventure for one evening, and was glad
to get back into the no place-like home
atmosphere again. but when his wife saw
him she held up both hands.
"Why. Jeptha!" she exclaimed; show
you look! where's your collar and tie
gone to?"
"l-I-I don't know stammered
Jones, who had forgotten all about the
barber shop where he doubtless had left
them; "h-h-hain't l got them on?"
"Why. no and you look SO queer.
Did you mail my letters?"
"Yy-yes,' gasped the wretched liar;
"of course did"
II don't believe it p said Mrs Jones,
in voice that nearly took Jones out of
his boots. II know those letters are In
Your pocket at this very moment! Let
me feel"
Jones had o wild thought OF rushing
out into the night and cold and leaving
Mrs. }. to find out all she could. but he
besitated, and the man who hesitates is
lost.
"There they are." she said, in tone
indicating that she had found roll of
million dollar bills, ''and-but what's
this?"
There was an awful silence, and you
could have heard Il meeting house drop
as Mrs. Jones. with Il calmness born of
desperation, nnfolded a piece of white
paper and read
TO Madam Blank, fine French mill
merry, DIR. One pink satin evening bon
net $50. Received payment.
SARAH BLANK Co.
1t was the wretched piece of paper he
had picked up and which fate had helped
him to thrust into his pocket to form one
link in this iron chain Of adverse circum
stances. We will draw q veil over the
subsequent hilarities of that evening and
merely refer to the atmosphere Of Betsy
and I-are- ont gloom which has enveloped
"no-place like home" ever since like the
dense smoke from glass factory. Jones
is still strong believer in manifest des.
tiny. Detroit Post and Tribune.
What the Prince Of Wales Night Do.
The outlook before the Prince of Wales
is not very brilliant. At forty two man
gets weary of the eternal round of soci-