The morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1899-1930, 1905-05-12

II
that you have no care for my purse.
Did you ever ask the grocer whether
the -four you were ordering was pure
or mixed with bone dustT
I'll don't remember.
"Did you ever throw out hint that
II we found sand In the sugar It would
be the last order he would getr
fNo. lie would have felt lnsuIted."
''lnsulted be hanged! I'll make a IT.
tie trip around this neighborhood and
see who'll feel insulted. BY the seven
wall eyed cats, but II they thlnk I'm
going 10 stand for such things they'll
have their eyes opcnedr'
whats the use of going around and
raising fuss when you know Il can't
DO any goodf Let the government get
after these men and punish them az
they deserve
"I'll show you what good It'll do, and
| am no man to wait for the govern
ment when thing is to be DONE"
"Mr. Bowser, you are foolish. II you
wifi watt
But be wouldn't. He pulled on his
overcoat and away be went. The
butcher was the first one visited. He
was leaning on his cIeaver and wonder.
ing how many OF the heads Of the Chi.
cago meat trust would be sent to jail
when Mr.. Bowser blew In and began:
'Slr. | have paid You hundreds and
hundreds OF dollars this last year for
bones-the bones OF cows, steers, sheep
and hogs-and I'll be hanged II you get
another cent out OF me! You either
send me clear meat or you get no more
Of my custom"
you give me pain. Bowser."
whats that7 Don't think to turn
me of that way. sir. What with the
aduiterated food sold on every side and
the old bones you ring In on us the peo-
pie are being regularly highway robbed
II others want to stand II, well and
good, but don't try II on me any long
er. I'm patient and long suffering, but
there comes time at last when the
worm turns"
you'd better buy liver all the time.
There's no bone In that"
And you'd better go out Of the
scoundrel business before you bring up
in states prison! When want liver,
sir. will buy liver. Good night, slr"
There was no doubt In Mr.. Bowser's
mind that he had given the butcher a
good polishing of and there would be
no more bone sent with his orders, and
his next visit was to the grocer's. He
was given a pleasant good evening, but
In response he replied:
"Sir, have you got one single article
OF food or drink in this shebang which
Is not adulteratedT
u think So"
"Well. don't You, sir, have been
killing me by slow degrees for the last
FIVE years. Every article Mrs. Bowser
has ordered from you has sapped at
my health. You have known right
along that you had bone dust In your
-four. sand Ia your sugar and chlcory
In your coffee, and yet you have war
ranted them pure and wholesome. Sir.
am obliged TO call you scoundrelr'
There are certain things can rec
ommend," quickly replied the grocer,
who knew pretty well how to take his
man.
II don't believe It. | don't beliere
you can show one thing which some
unhung scoundrel has not tampered
with.
There are the potatoes, turnips and
onions"
Don't beg the question, sir. called
here to say that the next time you send
me adulterated goods | will take your
trail and follow 1t until the doors OF
prison close upon you"
II will try to do better, Mr.. Bowser."
"See that you do, slr-see that you do.
II is only now and then that l take
the law Into my own hands, but when
! do such men as you want to look out
for me, Don't drive me to the dead
line, SIR"
There was another place to be visited,
and Mr.. Bowser walked In on the coal
man, who was at work on his books,
and said:
"Sir, In the last year you have cheat
ed me out Of hundreds Of dollars by
sending me short weight"
'Sir," replied the coal man as he laid
down bis pen, you are an internal
liar!'
"What! whatv
"An Internal liar, sir!'
They went outdoors together and had
a struggle for life. At the flnis Of II
Mr., Bowser was borne homeward at
the hands Of two men, and when they
reached the front door one of them said
to Mrs. Bowser, who answered the
ring
''Are you the wife Of Mr. BowserY'
, Eyes, SIR"
"Short, fat, baldheaded man who IA
always klckingr
"Yes."
Then here he is, and you'd better
take him in at once" NJ. QUAD.
An Awful Jolt.