The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-06-09
BITS OF WAYSIDE HUMOR
AN UMBRELLA TINKER WITH A MOST
LAUDABLE AMBITION.
With Conscious HumOr He Talks of
Buying an AutomobiIe-H. c. Ad-
ams's BUSY Little Rock"

1t takes more than the soaring breath of
hard luck to dry up the fountain of humor.
The other day, on Market street, at an
hour when the sun was something more
than pleasant, an umbrella member, in tat
tered clothes, shufI1ed along in the crowd of
perspiring passers-by. He was of type
more familiar, perhaps, to the small town
than to the big city-the sort of chap that
meanders along the shady side of the viii
lage street, a soldering furnace in one hand
and tinker's apparatus slung over
shoulder, whining, lazily: Umbrellas TO
mend. umbrellas to men-n-nd,' and pune
tuating the drawl of his voice with the
swinging of a cracked hand bell. This
particular tinker was evidently fresh from
the highways and he had evidently ridden
'Shank's mare" pretty hard during the
day.
He wore dirty, limp, baggy pair of trou-
sers blue wooden shirt, open at the neck,
and soggy with his sweat, thick-soled,
heavy laborers shoes, and the whole was
absurdly crowned with a battered caved-
in stiff hat, brown in color and of unbe-
lievable antiquity. Despite the frowns of
fortune, the umbrella tinker sauntered
along, with his red face parted in a COM
prehensive grin. The rudeness of the sun,
the jostling of the careless, the weight of
his tools and crippled umbrellas. and in
general the emptiness of his own lot,
apparent in comparison with the comfort
able mien of most of those with whom he
touched elbows made upon him not the
slightest impression. He looked everywhere,
up and down and to the right and left, and
everywhere he looked he found something
to grin at and to find interest in. Fortune
hor nv oil maj
stings for one more penetrable.
Out of Monument place, with quick
changing of gong and rapid thud-thud-
thud-thud of motor, an automobile flashed.
1t passed the tinker with what seemed a
special snort for his benefit. The child of
calamity fshed a wider grin. than ever
from the mysterious depths of his singular
optimism, and, turning to carefully
groomed chap who was at his elbow, re-
marked, with a duck of his ridiculously
hated head toward the racing machine:
Me for one of theml They're gettin' so
common L certainly am goin to have one.
And then, like a man who knew joke
when he ran across 1t in the street, he
threw back his grimy head and laughed TO
the bottom of his soul-laughed until the
tears made snaky canyons in the dirt of his
face, laughed until he had to set down his
paraphernalia and rub his bullying stomach.
laughed until the other man howled in
sympathy.
After a time, recovered from the violence
of his mirth he picked up his truck and
moved away, winking LUMINOSITY at the
man who, for the jokes sake, had cheer
fully foregathered with him-the beggar
undismayed
Mr.. Henry c. Adams, the genial racon-
teur, than whom no man more appreciates
a joke or witticism, sometimes tells a story
in which his own personality is the central
figure. especially if he thinks the joke is on
himself Last night to a crowd of friends
he related a passage at words between him
self and one of his colored employees that
took place bright and early the other morn
ing 1t should be said that Mr. Adams
wears at all times in his immaculate shirt
front a sparkling diamond of the first
water. On the morning in question while
giving instructions TO his colored servitor
Alex. he stood so that the sunlight played
a game of hide and seek on his jewel. Mr..
Adams noticed that even while he talked
the dazzling radiance of the precious stone
vas exercising a hypnotic influence over
Alexis faculties, and fearing that his words
might be lost on the man he suddenly in
terrupted the thread of his instructions to
exclaim:
do you understand me, Alex?"
Eyes. sah," replied that individual i'm
perturbably. Then he continued: Say
Mistah Adams, that's a busy little rock yo'
hab on yo' bosom