Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-04-07
WHIsTLED COMMENTS

II was verging on midnight. and on one
OF the green avenue cars. The hatchet-faced
lady was rigging her portiy. bald-headed
husband and he was Intellectually trying to
square himself
The hatefst-fsced lady obviously belonged
to that type OF her sex who believe they re
only talking in low undertone when. as q
matter Of fact. their every word is audible.
clearly and distinctly. for a distance OF
twerrty-four feet
The car was only partly filed. but all OF
the passengers could easily hear what she
was saying.
It appeared that the couple had been to a
theater and had gone to an oyster mouse
after the show. There. 1t seemed. the
hatchet-faced lady fancied that she had de-
tected her portly. bald-headed husband In
the act of gazing too aniabiy at soubrette
who was likewise regaling herself after ner
arduous stage exertions.
A moon-faced messenger boy. seated up
In a front corner Of the car, seemed 10 oe
gazing vacantly out OF the car WINDOWS
talk between the lady with the tomahawk
countenance and her cowed husband
But the messenger boy wasn't SO vacant
as he looked.
thing your said the reproachful wife OF
the fat mans bosom. ''how dared you screw
up your beady old eyes at that chemical
haired
whistled the moon-faced messenger boy up
In the corner. looking dreamiiy out OF the
car window
But, my dear. I didn't do anything OF the
sort" painted the bald-headed husband.
''You are entirely mistaken. Do you really
suppose. that I'd
.Yo' Can't Square Yoself With Me, Yo'
Moke," plaintively whistled the messenger
boy, shifting IN his seat and gazing interest,"
eddy at his worn shoes. ~,
Don't you try to tell me such nonsense!
broke In the hatchet-faced woman In tome
that she probably considered as low as the
sobful moan OF the murrnursone D,so't
Didn't seq you with my own eyes? Dian {
T.
"she Was Happy TILL She Met You" wills
tied the messenger boy. pulling from MS
pocket dogs cared copy OF Denver Ian =,
the Deadwood Dynamiter," and opening II
up as IL to read.
chow could l possibly do such an absurd
thing when you know that u
Because I Love You." came shriily from
between the screwed-up lips OF the niessen-
ger boy. who seemed to be absorbed IN MS
literature.
Kissed the hatchet-faeed woman. But this
Is the last time that you'll ever
Pack Yo' Clo'es an Co." whistled the
messenger boy. turning over q page and
looking Qeeply immersed.
Look here" cut In the adipose husband,
you are subject to Authorizations, my dear,
and the first thing you know you'll get me
so sore over your unjust accusations that
1T Loved You Once, / Scorn You Now,
was the messengers boys contribution to
the situation in mellowly-whistled fras-
ments.
DO you think I care how sore you get
YOU miserable. underhand, fat-yes, fat!-
old asinine thing
The messenger boy had arrived at his get
ting-off place. He folded his work OF ne
ton, got UP and walked to the rear plat
form, whistling ''Fat Fat! I Amt So
Fatr with great energy and effect.
The hatchet faced lady glared at the re-
treating messenger boy, and then she
glanced around and caught the grins on the
faces of the other passengers. Then. and
then only did she subside.
Wont do a solitary thing to him when
she gets him home, will she?" said the grin
ming conductor to a man who got off at the
same stop where the messenger boy
alighted.
Not a thing was the reply.