The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1904-01-10


linois street, the other
night, a discouraged gentleman of this
valuable profession related his trials to
sympathizing friend who sat next him. He
sat slouched down in his seat, with his soft
hat pulled far over his eyes. and grumbled
forth a long, incoherent story of people who
could pay and didn't pay, of people who
would pay and were never at home of peo-
pie who ought 20 be made to pay, of people
who wouldn't answer the doorbell, and
whole lot OF other troublesome. tricky and
exasperating varieties of humanity.
oh. cheer up, Lon, cheer up, said the
sympathizing listener. patting the down
shoulder, you'll have better luck to-mor-
row; bad luck can't last forever; everything
goes in waves-now were up, now we're
dowr-and you know II takes all sorts of
people TO make world"
Yes" muttered the tired collector, land
we've got every blamed kind in Indian
apolis."
At any time a wayside fire blazing and
cracking merrily up under the blue dome
appeals to the eye and mind of those who
love the great outdoor
Outdoor world. but such fires in win
Fires. ter, when all is bleak and
cold, radiate picturesque at
traction and heart-comfort in a double
sense.
Up and down the city streets and in and
out of alleys the outdoor fire is frequent
ly seen I'm cheerful glimpses from a flying
street car, from upstairs windows, or by
the passing pedestrians. These are business
fires mainly-trash burning in the alleys,
the big fire built of debris to warm the
hands of laborers pulling down an old
hntr re- i-
going up and in one unique instance, a fire
was seen built in the corner of an old cellar
excavation filled with ice. on which agile
and bouyant small boys were skating gaily.
A glorious big blaze from old railroad ties
almost warns whole yard where men are
piling ties on freight cars, and In another
freght-yard a huge old cannon stove.
painted white, is sending forth as great
steamers of smoke locomotive might.
while 1t throws around much warm, cheer
full atmosphere for the men and boys work.
ing in it's neighborhood.
Out of town the outdoor fire makes, in
many an instance, its wonderful spot or
public brightness and human soIace Here on
the bank, is an ice-cutter's fire, and there in
the woods is q woOd-choppers hearty blaze
fed by his own odorous, fresh-cut chips.
Fires send up beautiful blue smoke and
ruddy flame along the canal and river banks
where men and boys are skating, and that
day must be bitterly cold, indeed. on which,
in some sheltered ravine, the brother of the
wandering foot is not encountered indiffer-
ent to the weather. sitting by his own bit
OF outdoor fire, ragged himself and read
ing the ragged fragment of a newspaper,
in which, perhaps, his last morsels of food
have been wrapped.
The worst characteristic OF comedy. It
must be conceded, is its irrepressibe ten
dency to trench on the territory of tragedy.
Funerals h I
Boiled Cabbage not to be funny, OF
Headed on. course" said local
funeral director, but
in spite OF fate. they sometimes are. One
day this week 1 had a funeral in a small
town outside of Indianapolis, but a town In
which people know what is what and what
is not what just well they do in In
dianapois. Everything went well in the
early part of the day; the house was well
arranged and warm, the flowers which had
been sent in were beautiful, and the artistic
lady who had them in charge knew just
what to do with them. 1 was congratulate
ing myself that nothing could possibly occur
TO interfere with the serene execution of all
our plans, when suddenly, about IL o'clock
a most distressing culinary odor filled the
whole house, halls, parlors and all; not a
room was free from 1t. 1t overpowered the
fragrant flowers and was bad enough to
drown out the music. At once 1 sought for
the lady who assisted me and asked her
what it meant?" "Oh," she said isn't 1t
dreadful? 1t is boiled cabbage; just think
of boiled cabbage odor all over the house
where there is a funeral; what can we dor
1.-THE explanation was that, in the family
distress and under pressure of many rela-
tives and guests from a distance, an old
black woman In the neighborhood had been
called in to assist in the extra cooking.
One vegetable was equal to another in her
mind, and, In studying her own tastes, no
doubt, she had perpetrated boiled cabbage
on the day of the burial. 1t was taken off
the stove in a hurry, windows were opened,
spices carried around on hot shovels, and
so the obnoxious odor got rid of That
boiled cabbage was a tragedy, L tell you,
and a comedy, too
Commonplace happenings all along the
way ought to increase steadily mankind's
faith In the worlds great preponderance
of bright experiences.
Cheerful with no one to talk to
Journeys. on the train to-day" re-
marked a man with a
valise II had to look out of the window,
and was highly entertained by watching
the people who saluted the train as we
| flashed along Surely, trainmen ought to be
| the most cheerful fellows in the world as in
deed they generally are, for they fly over
the rails every daylight trip, through
a long, bright atmosphere of hearty greet
ings from both sides of the road. Engineer,
| fireman, baggage-man, brakeman and con-
ductor-each and all seem to have a con-
tinuous trail of friends along the way 1t
was both interesting and inspiring to notice
/ the different kinds of people, of all ages,
sizes and sexes, who stopped their various
occupations to watt a friendly, light-hearted
/ message towards our train. As we rushed
| over the rails, in town and country, these
| tokens of good cheer came from school
children on the sidewalks and along snow
| covered country roads. Men on lumber
/ wagons waved a greeting, and boys in the
| factories on the line. Farmers hauling fod-
der from the SHOW fields and grocery loaf
ers in the villages flung up their hats to
salute the trainmen. Small boys climbed
on the gates. little red-stockinged girls
came TO the doorways. men In a brickyard
| five women and girls in a small town
| group, a quite old lady standing on a side
/ porch, one lone boy In farm wagon across
/ the felds-each and all of these waved
| their hands long and energetically. One old
black set down his wheelbarrow to