The Savannah morning news., 1903-10-25
BY EDGAR B. WARNER.
Copyright, 1908, by Edgar B. Warner.

Albany looking about The boat had
not yet stopped.
Not about the deck" explained
Bishop Potter impatiently, but don't
you see the pleasure in it? We are
told by that sign not to do it,"
1t is a well-known fact that the
Bishop disapproves of the reckless
giving of aims. He has sharp censure
for the kind of giving that fosters
crime and deceit. He believes in saving
aims for the deserving needy
Somebody relates the story of the
Bishops being stopped by street beg
gar one evening as he was hurrying
home He is never in too much of a
hurry to stop when he thinks he may
be of use, so he paused, even thMGh
he was a hungry man and dinneTSWhs
awaiting him a long way off.
Whats the trouble?" he asked the
man.
Can you help poor blind man to
a nights lodgin'?" began the usual
whine. 81 haven't a penny in my
pocket, sir"
The man was a hearty specimen
with a patch over one eye the other
one being closed. The Bishop turned
his glance for an instant and when he
looked back he saw, in one quick in
slant. the hitherto closed eye of the
beggar giving a wise wink to a friend
who stood beside him.
The Bishop dived into his pocket and
brought forth a bogus coin that had
been passed on him a little while be-
fore.
Don't you think If 1 give you this
my aims will suit your aftiiction?" he
said.
The Bishop has a gentle laugh up
his sleeve for the extremists of the
antique craze. He lives in a modern
home, and he does not believe in car
rying the fad for antique adornments
to excess. Lets have old things
when they are useful or beautiful"
he says, "but what's the sense in liv-
ing like our ancestors when we know
how to be more comfortable than
they?"
He has a family of friends who car
ry this fad to its extreme limit, and
the Bishop has merrily rallied them
many a time on their mania.
Don't take to cliff dwelling for the
sake of being fashionable" he said
to them once.
His own home displays a good cleo
trio bell that announces the caller by
a shrill modern burr that resounds
loudly. But one day when he called
at his friends house he was surprised
to find no button which he might
press. In its stead was an old bronze
knocker of rare and early design.
The Bishop applied himself vigor-
ously to the task of rapping. No an
swer. Meanwhile he could see smoke
coming out of the kitchen chimney,
and, by the hour, he knew that some
one was preparing dinner.
He was anxious to see the family,
for a pressing matter had caused him
to call, so he was tantalized by the
led to the side entrance was locked,
so there was no possible way to enter
except at the front. He knocked
harder. No answer. At last, tired of
waiting, he took out a card and
scrawled across its back:
II have decided not to come in,
after all, as 1 have carelessly kept on
twentieth century garb."
member of a well-known scientific
society of New York tells of the Bish-
ops being invited to address that
learned body, and when he arose the
natural expectation was that he
would begin with some eulogy of the
wonders of science. But, instead, the
scientists were surprised with the fol-
lowing:
Gentlemen" he said, a lively
young person tells me that she has at
last discovered the use of a professor.
She thought he was a creature made
to look severe in the schoolroom and
to ask unanswerable questions. These
things were of no use. But now she
has been to play wherein the pro-
lessor is pictured as a most amusing
parsonage with goggles and green cot
ton umbrella. He was a perfect foil to
set off the noble hero and the charm
ing heroine she explains. That's
surely what professor is fora back
ground as a relief against which the
rest of the world may look delightful
by contrast"
The Bishop is not only a good talker
but a good listener, and he can appre-
ciate the other mans joke. friend
once told him an anecdote about
Boss Tweed that he enjoyed heartily,
and afterward incorporated into one
of his published papers with the
friends permission. He is averse to
adopting the usual method of telling
anothers story in the first person.
This tale runs to the effect that
Tweed, on one occasion, was standing
with a group in the Mayors office,
, when a large diamond-as big as a
strawberry, the Bishop says-rolled
upon the floor. Some one of the group
picked it up and passed it around to
find its owner.
Not mine" said one after another
Tweed funbled with his garments