The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1898-04-10
EPISTLES TO ST. PAUL.

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So-o-o.~~-~>~~~-o-o-~
This must be true for Ique Lederer con-
fesses that it happened to him.
Il was waiting for a train at Jamestown
N. d., once" said Ique, land it occurred to
me that l might take advantage Of the OPP
portunlty to have a look at the lunatic asy-
lum l went out leisurely and was walking
along outside of the grounds and wondering
how it would do for a place to finish in, when
heard someone shouting behind me. looked
around and saw an idiot waving club and
singing out to me to stop. l had a bunch
that he was one Of the inmates of the place,
and that didn't need to wait for him. but /
waited until he got near enough to make sure
that he belonged on the other side of the
fence He looked ferocious and the club was
OF good size and apparently serviceable. Says
to myself, You're a good thing to come
All the way up here to die at the hands of
chump with club Then thought 1t would
be as well to see il the train wasn't due.
i didn't want to let him think that l was
running away from him, and I felt that 1
could exercise hypnotic influence enough to
put him to sleep if he did get near me, but
somehow It's always easier to hypnotic
lunatic with club than with your eye, and
pretty soon l was jogging along at a better
pace. he improved his speed and l put on
squirt He shouted to me to stop, but
thought the train must be almost due, and 1
had better not stop. 1 glanced around and he
was swinging his club and indulging in what
the story-tellers call maniac laughter. My
breath was about exhausted and he was
IRONING at the mouth when struck the rail
road track He bounded merrily along, and 1
pushed on painting and shouting and
then for help.
L made the depot platform and fell ex-
hausted against the door of the waiting room
with the lunatic not two feet behind. | was
framing up prayer for mercy when he
reached out and touched me on the shoulder.
Tag he says. you're it,
Francis Wheeler is an insurance man and
lives at the Colonnade.
In the Colonnade elevator there is a little
narrow shelf running the entire length of
one side of the compartment. and On this
shelt are always dozen or more keys belong
ing to the different roomers
Mr. Wheeler went home one night recently,
after attending an Elks' social session, and
hac good deal of trouble in picking out
the key that opened his apartment. Mr..
Wheeler did some thinking next day, and
when he returned to the Cclonnade he pro-
duced cowbel which he fastened to the
late all he has to do is push his hand along
the key board until the warning tinkle tells
him the location Of the much desired article.
Wheeler has no more trouble about getting
in his room. but 1t is said that some of
the Colonnaders have objected to the bell,
which has a tune that can be heard wander
ing through the halls an hour after Wheeler
starts 1t going.
AS the Tow familiar tinkle tnkles through
troubled with insomnia, turns over and says:
Thank goodness, the home
The devotion Of Mr.. Pfeiffer to the game
of pinocle brought about his downfall. Mr..
Pfeiffer and Mr.. Schneider used to play scat
together and it Is said of them that they
were wont to get so interested in the game
that they would make the stake a glass of
beer for the first 1000 points. Of late they
have taken to pinoc,e, and the man at the
bar is increasing in substance, for they only
have to play a thousand points of the game
for the beer.
Thursday afternoon Mr.. Pfeiffer met Mr..
Schneider in the Swiss Casino and challenged
him to session at pinocle.
Mr.. Schneider would accommodate him,
and they got the deck and table all to
themselves in a corner, ordered a couple of
They had played four games and consumed
four stems along about o'clock, when they
got into a controversy.
Now Mr. Pfeffer is a gentleman of gen.
erous proportions, and weighs in the neigh
borhood of 300 pounds. He looks ferocious
when he Is most amiable-one of those men
whom you look at and conclude that if he
was to get mad he would appease his wrath
by biting some ones leg off and beating his
brains out with it. Mr.. Schneider is small
man, but pugnacious; jealous of his rights,
and inclined to get too far interested in his
game to be companonable. He might weigh
a little better than one-half the weight of
Pfeiffer.
How menny pc you?' asked MIR. Pfefer.
"Swei hunder und feunfsig,' said Mr..
Schneider, looking at his pile.
dot ish nct-dot gennot Pc" said Mr..
Pfeiffer.
Dots rigid" returned Mr.. Schneider.
''You hev nod Ply de rigid cound got"
said Mr. Pfeiffer. getting lite excited.
Il don like dot cound dot you geep.''
'Vot ish dot? Dot l a chead? You
air a liar, Pfe;ffer, and the little man got
up from the table. and Pfeiffer got UP, too.
Il am liar? Schneider of you don'd take
dot beck l will smetch you," he roared, and
he pounded the table.
Schneider threw himself over the table and
landed on the enlarged solar pexus Of the
big man. Pfeiffer went down into the cor
ner and the bartender and a small crowd of
the curious ran up. Schneider spat his
hands and waited for the big fellow to get
up; the other tried to get him out of the
| room before Pfeiffer killed him. He wouldn't
CO. Pfeiffer struggled to his feet, took his
seat at the table, picked up the cards, and
said:
SCHNEIDER, air you goin' to play cards or
air you goin' 10 geep on monkeyin'?"
THE PHILISTINE.
HOBBIES THEY RIDE.