The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1906-06-07

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10 500 her play ~ y foo tn'nu'gs IN w"
evening trfufr ihov have th"ir dinref.
'Vcw work promises ~ Ir y wrrderful
bisr- whsn tho architects Frt through With
n . sid thr N euian who had taken y long
walk On sunday afternoon. and there Will
hut ir q trtioh ~ ttufwaiir architecture I'M
rrprrarniT,l lefofe lUnR We had Frebch
HOUSES Tor ten vcafa and u h"Ran "a logh aa
lfthcrp would MEYER H. anything el~i, Then
W. werc Georgian, and n @nenrd ~ We
would 10 n slitS, ~ London and \ sltce ~
Paris, like lcah and TAT In tho bacon. Now
ye are EoinR 20 have Adam ho,I-sr' ann i"n-
put NJ Venetian palacra. Then thete arr
he uncla sstnrd houspa which arr Qreen
ammo M TO the second story and Mary Ann
Tho rrst ~ the way I confidently edpnct
10 go the old bfownstone welcomed back
with enthusiasm
'f1l wager the cnddie fees mo- one hcrr ran
tell the filling In my golf ball, challenged
the man at the golf club who often gets new
clubs or balls from abroad.
THE corr is a rubber grape, filed with
water under pressure, ~ explained, when
no takers spoke mp. This IL wrapped with
glitta percha shell. II Is said To he IA lively
az any Of 'em for the drives and the steadiest
on the putting green's
Trade instincts come early 10 the Italian
kids. A 200 pound chunk Of ice dropped
on a wagon on Chambers street ut the
hottest hour Of torrid Tuesday and the
driver wouldn't go back for it. A police
man pushed the chunk into the gutter.
Hot men and women, passing, paused to
look at the ice in an incredulous way, then
walked on dripping perspiration. Street
gamins found the ice and began playing
Italian lad darted of from his companions.
He ~reappeared with a big Italian who
aelts lemonade from a stand down Franklin
street. who wrapped sackcloth around the
ice and toted it OF. He could Use it in his
business and the Italian kid trotted along
with him for a commission in the was Of
free drinks.
sd give a dollar" said the mar who
coddles his stomach, "to find a cook who
doesn't measure. There used to he plenty
of them. ] remember the time when half
the kitchens in the land gloried in a guess
work cook. Eating was a pleasure in those
days. 1t isn't so now. In these whirligig
times everything has a machine made
taste. That is because the cooks measure
so much. Instead of trusting to inspira-
tlOD, as IIP HEAVEN DOTH COOk II DOullu W uo,
the kitchen queens of to-day measure
even the salt they put in the porridge. No
wonder such cookery lacks individuality,
and is all on the same dead level Of medioc-
rity. Merciful heavens, what ails these
biscuits? They're heavy as lead"
Il think the cook made a mistake said
the mans wife. Il got a new one yesterday
one hat doesn't measure ar. afraid
she didn't put enough baking powder in
the BISCUITS
- -
'For six months after I get back home,'
said the man from Georgia, Il expect to
hear no man say, How long will it take?'
Up here that is the universal query. II
a man stops to have his shoes shined he
invariably prefaces the job by asking the
boy how long it will take. In barber shops
many customers substitute for the usual
morning greeting the question, How long
will it take?' The man who lunches down.
town is no exception. Even an order of a
cup of coffee and a sandwich necessitates
the popping of the all-important question.
You hear it in drug stores, in banks, in
hotels, in Offices and on the street. | a
brought up in a section of the country
where nobody cares a rap how long it takes
to do a thing, and it will be with feelings
Of pleasure that | shall again mingle with
friends who will not answer even my in
~vitation to have q drink with the query,
long will it take?'"