St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1886-10-01


line Of his travels have become a tritie
weary of that one tune.
During the past week there has been
remarkable falling off in the judges whistle,
and the color is slowly coming back to the
cheeks of the clerks in his office. There was
day last week on which the fates seemed
to have cOnSpiTed To drive the tune from
from the brain and mouth of the judge, and
they were successful in great measure. 1t
was last Friday; the judge came into his
Office at the usual hour and took his seat
at his desk Throwing off his hat and lean
ing back in his chair. he opened letter,
and as he glanced over the contents he
began to whistle his favOrite tune about
white wings. He had just reached that
point in the song where The wings are re-
ported to never grow weary, when his con-
tidential clerk reached under his coat and
pulled the string on 92-calibre chestnut
bell. evidently purchased for the occasion
The bell rang and the judge suddenly
changed his position and looked vacantly
through the window at lonesome dog
squattiag on the edge of the curbStOne, while
the sound of his whistle died out
Two hours later he came in from the
street, and. throwing himself into chair
began picking his teeth and between
stabs whistled his favorite aria. Once
more he reached that part where the tire
less wings are referred to. when the bell on
the stenographers typewriter rang out.
The judge ceased whistling and looked
hard at his confidential clerk and the ste
nographer. but there was nothing in their
faces TO indicate that they had put up a
job ON him, and he proceeded to write a
letter.
At noon he started for dinner, and. board
ing a street car at the corner of Fourth and
Jackson streets. he took seat and tipping
his broad hrimmed hat on the back of his
head he absent-m indedly began whistling
about the wings. Once more he reached
the weary part when some one rang the car
bell. The judges face flushed up, and,
locking out the corner of his eyes to see if
any of the passengers were looking at him,
he gradually tapered off his whistle and
became quiet. His face wore a puzzled
and worried expression during the re-
mainder of the ride home, but
when he entered the diningroOm
| and his nOstrilS were aSSailed
| with the invigorating aroma of a
| faultless dinner he forgot all about the toll
ing of the bells that had haunted that day
and sat down to the edibles and did them
such Justice that Mrs. Chandler smiled with
supreme satisfaction.
| Dinner over, the general agent went into
| the sitting room. and. lighting a cigar,
leaned back in Sleepy Hollow" and as
the azure clouds of smoke enwreathed his
head and danced upward to the ceiling he
softly hummed about those immaculate
wings. He had again reached that part
regarding their tirelessness when, as if by
strange Encouragement. the bell of the
alarm clock that sat on the mantelpiece be-
gan to ring with a wild rattle.
Condemn the BELL" yelled the judge,
| jumping up, Its come to DANCED pretty
turn when fellow can't whistle quiet
tune without setting every two-cent bell in
the country to ringing" and slappng on
his hat he rushed outdoors and down town
without once thinking of street car.
When he arrived at the Office he found on
his desk slip of paper on which was witt
ten in pretty female hand the words:
white wings. they make us so weary"
| He looked mad at the female stenogra-
pher, but she was busy writing a letter,
and didn't notice him, and his confidential
clerk had stepped out to interview an in
dividual just as the judge entered. The
general agent wrinkled his brow and sat
down to his desk with thump, and never
since then has he ventured to whistle in
the Office, on a street car or anywhere.
where an alarm clock is sitting around in
hearing distance.