Omaha daily bee., 1883-06-25
THE CLUB,
Living Beyond His Means.

"Am Purveyor Hopewell i'll de hall dis
eavenin'2" asked Brother Gardner as the
meeting was called to order.
Eyes, sab" replied a voice from the
back row of seats.
Den please step dis way
Brother Hopewell shuffled forward
with a mixed look of hope and doubt on
his face. He couldn't make out whether
he was to be rewarded for pulling q
stranger out of the river the other day,
or court martialed for having a wheel
barrow in his possession which three diff
ferent men claimed to have been stolen
from them.
"Brudder Hopewell," continued the
president as q great silence fell upon the
meeting, ''de odder day l met you down
the street, an l shouldn't have knowed
who you was if Pickles Smith hadn't
identified you. You had on a suit of toys
dat mus have cost $40"
"Yes, sah."
"You had ha'r lie on yer ha'r, you
smelt of perfumery, an you card a
cane"
eyes, sah."
"When you walked you acted like a
man who owned half de town, an when
you stopped you struck a pose to show of
yer figger. Brudder Hopewell, how
much money does you arm a week."
"'Bout 80, sah."
can how much am you behind on
boardl'
I'll l 'spects lie bout eben, sab"
"Brudder Hopewell, you am in debt
fur board, fur cloze, fur butes, fur cigars,
an you has borrowed money which you
can't pay. / has had my eye on you for
the pas three months, an / knows all
bout it. Now, den, who am youY"
"Purveyor Hopewell, sah."
"'Zactly-'zactly. You am a single
man, 20 years old, a second class barber,
not wort 800, an out of de 81, 200, 00O
people in dis kentry not ober 100 has
eber heard of you. Now, den, you dress
up, you swell around, you fling on scol
lops, you try to deceive people into takin
you fur a pusson of riches. What an
your objeck!"
"I-I-doan' know sah," stammeret
the victim.
"Brudder Hopewell, let me tell yol
sunthin'. When you fatter yourself da
de people of dis kentry doan' know d.
difference between de bray of de null,
an de roar of de lion you are dreffull,
mistaken. You have bin f%ollerin' d,
heed of sartin white people. l know
heaps of 'em who goes hungry an dodg'
creditors fur de sake of blindin' people.
eyes. A woman whose husband airnl
$50 a week has no bizness wild silks ant
diamonds, a S15 hat or a az par of shoel
but she's de pusson who'll have 'emfur fea
dat somebody will think he isn't rich
Half de kentry am in debt fur cloz'
which only de odder half kin afford. d.
woman who wars de best cloze on d,
street has de moas' holes in her parlo
ca'pet at home. De man who swells d,
biggest owes de moas' to his tailor an
bootmaker. You am a poo man. You'll
nebber have a hundred dollars in bank a
long as you live. You'll nebber arm mo
dan huff to run a small cabin in a small
way, an yet you am swellin' aroun' as il
a 800, 900 mortgage wouldn't bodder 20,
half an hour. What's your obiick?"
"I-I-doan' know, sah."
"Boy! take off dat swaller-tailed coat
Jump outer dem tight pants! Drap da
silk necktie! Den you go to work IN
fin a cheap boardin' house an begin tel
pay your debts. Let your cloze mattel
your salary. Let your board match you
cloze. Be what you ana common sorr
o. pusson whose assets will kiver his liza
bilities by hard pullin'. You can't de
ceive anybody, an de less you try de bet
ter people will like YOU"
Brother Hopewell retired to his corne,
Ii = A.
offer to trade a handkerchief with a rec
border to Shindig Watkins for a white
handled knife with all the blades broken