Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1904-09-17
THE Beer THAT Made Milwaukee Fam

pointing to the two cards, " want t
switch that brand O. gin you're usin. ;.
"Don't yo' all git convasashunl VIII me,
renled the ianitor, testify. Abs got trou-
ble huff Dem cahds Is all right.
"Weli, witch is w'ich?'' inquired the Ice
man, little more deferentially
"Ah amt guilty. replied the jan1tor.
"Yo all whistle 'em bofe an find out.
Complications.
The iceman blew q. mighty blast ihto
both of the tubes, and then clapped the
cake of ice on to the dumb waiter. In less
than two seconds two feminine voices
sounded down the dumb-waiter SHAFT.
what is it?' the two voices inquired in
unison.
Ice" shouted the iceman.
who's 1t for? inquired the two voices
together. -
IT. Jackson" yelled back the iceman.
(Which one?' unreasonably inquired the
two feminine voices in one breath.
Give it up, ladies' replied the lceman,
and he started TO pull at the dumb-Wa1ter
rope. ,,xoa
the two voices, still together
Its a nickel piece yelled back the Ice
man. 81
IT'S mine, then" called down the owner
of the voice at the second floor.
"Oh, 1t doesn't belong here. I'm sure!'
piped the voice at the third floor. "A
nickers worth of ice,e indeed! HUH!
IT don't keep my refrigerator cluttered
nm with nasty things to drink, you know,
Mr. Iceman," said the owner OF the second
floor voice amiably, and then poth dump-
waiter doors were slammed to with Dang
Ten minutes later the market boy siouch-
Cd into the basement with his basket. When
he looked over the cards and saw the
names of the two T. Jacksons he, too, plew
into both tubes with all his might, ana
again the pair of feminine voices plpeu
ssXTeIl down the dumbwaiter smart.
When the Meat Came.
Meat bawled back the market boy.
who's 1t for?" inquired the two feminine
voices, this time raucously.
ct jackson" hallowed the market boy.
What kind of meat is it?" inquired the
two voices above hoarsely.
"Steakr' yelled the market boy.
"Oh, It's mine then-just send it right
up" said the two voices at once.
The boy dumped the package OF meat on
to the dumbwater and yanked away at the
rope He stopped pulling when the dumb
waiter had reached the second floor.
why don't you send that meat up here
to me?' was funnelled down the Shaft
from the third floor but the boy had gone,
being wise after the manner Of most mar
ket boys.
Because it's mine." replied the second
floor voice; that's why
IT'S no such thing" came from the third
floor. my husband ordered that steak on
his way to the Office this morning, and"
ooh, really. beg your pardon madam"
came from the second floor. Il have made
a mistake. 1t does belong to you. I've
opened the parcel, and it's chuck steak,
and goodness knows that we don't have to
eat such
Its nothing of the Sort chuck steak, If
1t belongs to me-" sharply interrupted the
possessor of the third-foor voice; "and
you will oblige me greatly If you Will just
send that meat up here this minute and
hereafter you will be good enough not to
open my packages. and
Hal ha! Well, you may pull 1t up your
self If you want it" merrily interrupted the
owner of the second-foor voice. Il am not
aware that have any contract to attend to
the dumbwa1ter for the rest OF the tenants.
And then the second-foor dumbwa1ter
was slammed to again with vicious bang.
Mail for T. Jackson.
Fifteen minutes later the postman reached
the vestibule. He had a letter, addressed
| in bold masculine hand, for 1T. Jackson.
esq.," When he glanced over the cards
above the two letter boxes he gave start
and pressed his free hand to his forehead,
as some men do on the morning after. He
pondered for a moment, and then he
pushed both of the Jackson bell buttons. A
succession of clicks announced that the
"open sesame" had been, given from both
of the flats. This, however, was, OF course,
not what the postman wanted. so he shout
ed INTO Dotn tuDeS, Letter IOr l. JdchSou.
Then he walked into the hall and assembled
the stairs to the second floor to investigate.
The proprietress Of the second-boor nat.
a busting towel around her head, met the
postman at the head of the stairs.
Mrs. Jackson?" inquired the postman.
Yes" replied Mrs, Jackson NO. i, ex-
tending her hand for the letter.
Who is that letter for, spostman? came
from the third-foor landing.
IT. Jackson, replied the postman, with
| drawing the letter from sthe outstretched
| hand Of Mrs. Jackson Mo- i.
That's for my husband. aggrieyediy
| said the latter, still holding her hano ex-
tended for the letter. tr
Let me see it," said Mrs. Jackson NO z.
1 hurrying down the stairs, and glarlng at
| Mrs. Jackson No. L.
There's two T. Jacksons mere, aren
| there? inquired the postman, stili hang-
| ing to the letter and looking as If he
rather enjoyed the situation.
| Trouble for the Postman.
II only know about one T. Jackson put
in the second-f1oor Mrs. Jackson, and he's
my husband. That letters addressed to
him."
do you actually suppose, madam. frig-
| idly inquired Mrs. Jackson No. 2. that
| your husband is the only tenant OF THIS
| building who receives mail? Postman, you
letter belonging to my husband"
! Where's the letter from! suddeniy m
terposed Mrs. Jackson No. 1. What's the
postmark on it?'
Lets see,'' said the postman. decipher-
ing the envelope postmark, ITS from Nc
oh. yes, McSwopplesville. Indiana.
oh, my, Is 1t indeed-ha! ma! merruy