Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-12-04
lARSHALL P. WILDER
TELLSA STORY

r - ARSHAlIL p. WILDER, the mono
, +" logist, has habit of unspoolint
~'A upon folks he knows the yarns hi
later introduces into his vaudeville stunt
for the purpose of getting line on tn,
effectiveness of the stories as laugh
makers
And SO. about a month ago, on TIL,
Atlantic CITY Boardwalk, he uncoiled tn
following upon friend.
a doctor by the name of Hogan cam,
home, dog-tired, very late one night, ant
; said he to his wife:
"Anuie, I'm all played out I'm all in
l didn't have a wink Of sleep all night
, and I've performed three operations to-
day, and I'm all to the bad. I don't want
to see any one till I've slept about a
dozen hours. l am going to bed right
away. Don't wake me up for anybody
Very WE'LL said his wife, iii not
waken you
But about hour after the doctor had
gone to bed McGlone. very intimate
chum of DR.. Hogan's rang the bell.
McGlone seemed to be extremely sick
and he demanded to see the doctor right
away.
Mrs. Hogan was up against it. She re-
membered what her husband. the doctor.
had said about not waking him up. But
McG1One looked pretty sick. and she re-
membered how intimate friend McGlOhe
was of the doctors.
So she woke him up. The doctor was
more than halr asleep when he came down
to his office His friend McGlone ex-
planned that he had a bad pain around his
heart.
pain around the heart. eh?'' said the
doctor, solicitously, and yet pretty sleep
lily. Lie down on this couch here and
I'll put my head Your chest and see
how your heart is doing it's work. While
I'm listening 1 want You to count one.
two, three, four and so on
The patient did a ordered and the doc
tor put his head on McGlone's chest and
the latter began to count: One two,
three four
little while later the doctors wife.
hearing snoring. entered the office, and
found the doctor sound asleep with his
head on McCilone's chest. with McGlone
counting, Eight thousand nine hundred
an tin, eight thousand nine hundred an
iliven---'
The story was laugh. and the friend
duly produced his laugh and handed it
out to the diminut:ve monologist.
A few minutes later 4 retired colonel of
the British army, who is spending the
winter at Atlantic City with his Ameri-
can wife, breeZed along. and MIR. Wilder
after the greetings of the day, concluded
that he'd try the yarn on the Britisher
He unwound il with great effect With
all Of the sidelights, gestures and mug
gins, and when he had finished the re-
tired British colonel looked out vaguely
over the darking sea, stroked his mus
tache thoughtfully, and adjusted his
monocle
He seemed to be waiting for the finish
or climax.
Mr.. Wilder. s1uattiDg his little
Boardwalk tricycle.. gazed at the retired
British colonel expectantiy, hoping that
in due time, he might chance to get it or
make 1t; but nothing happened. Nothing
W)hatever.
The monologist smothered his disap-
pointment, and presently we began to
gable about something else.
About twenty minutes later, however,
the colonel, who had been becoming more
and more reflective, broke out:
u say. you know, Widah, that was
very StOOpid, wasn't it, of that doctah
fellah to so to sleep on mans chest in
such way. what?"s
"Scana 'lous," replied the monologist,
without twitching a muscle
And l say. Wildah, why the dooce,
y'know. did the bally ass of an Irishman
go right on counting in that absurd way,
y'know. after the doctor had fallen asleep
and began to snore, what?' inquired the
colonel
More air.. sobbed Wilder, and he
pedaled away from there and beat it
down the Boardwalk as fast as his ma
chine could carry him c. L. c.