The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-07-14
The Biggest Liar on Long Island,


The Biggest Liar on Long Island.
He got on the front platform of a
car going to the cemetery. Under his
left arm he held a paper box of flowers,
and In his mouth was stuck a nickel
plated pipe, from which, ever and anon.
fumes of tobacco-smoke stole in through
the open door and windows, gyratinp
under the nose of passenger in black,
causing him to beat the air with his
hand, as if driving off Jersey mos
quitoes.
The conductor, after treading on a
policeman's corn and tripping over
several wreaths, reached the front plat
form.
Say, you there! Put that pipe out,
or I'll ate yen'
The man struck the bowl of the pipe
against the dashboard, sending the
sparks over the hands of the driver.
Conductor, you oughtn't talk to
man like that when he's buried in sor-
row. No, sir; you oughtn't;" and he
came into the car and crowded himself
into seat between middle-aged man
and q thin woman.
I'm goin' to the cemetery with these
flowers, he remarked to the middle
aged man. 81 have three wives out
there; every year l make this journey.
This rose | raised in the flower-pot that
Rebecca used to fire around when she
was here on earth, poor soul. She was
as good woman as ever wore corset
Very fond of flowers, too. Cost me
more for her bonnets than the other two
put together She just wore hangin'
garden of Babylon on every bonnet she
wore. Rebecca did. This flower they
call cameler"
"a camellia," spoke the middle-aged
passenger, feeling that he ought to say
something.
''It's for the grave of my third wife.
She read a book called Camille, and
seen the play lots of times. She
coughed herself into consumption.
Her stronghold was in imitatin' the
heroine in all the books she read. Every
day I'd come home she'd have new
name for me what she got out of
novel. She could write poetry, but |
don't think that brung on the consump-
ton, though"
''She was your last?'
"Yet bet I'm not in the market any
more. Retired from the marrying bust
ness, so to speak. She read all about
Blue Beard, and was terribly uneasy
about goin' before me" he continued.
''Any flowers for the grave of your
second wife?''
N-"She was stronG-minded woman,
talked about woman's sphere and all
that. Hated flowers bad. Why, she
killed my first wife's canary, sold the
secondhand organ I'd bought, and
wouldn't have flower around her."
why are you going to put flowers
on her grave now?'
"Not for love. Not much. | never
could call my soul my own when she
lived. had to consult her about what
pants l should put on every mornin'."
"Still, you will decorate her grave?"
Il do it for spite. When she lived |
didn't spite her. o, no. When l put
these flowers on her grave l know it'll
make her turn in her grave with anger.
Not for love, just for spite" The man
tucked up his box under his arm and
got out.
The conductor came in and hung to
the strap as he said: II suppose that
fellow that got out was doing some
more of his lynn l seen him talllin' to
you. He's the biggest liar on Long
Island. He's sort of bum that works
for nursery man down here. Although
he's rode on this car a hundred times he
always stulfs the passengers with differ
ent tales"
''He told me he has three wives
buried"
Three grandmothers, The fellow
never had but one wife, and she left
him long ago. Them flowers belong to
his boss, the nursery man."
GLOW he could SANDER women as he
did, )" calculated the thin lady passenger
as she wiped the dust from her brow
with black-bordered silk handker-
chief. N, Y. World.