St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1910-11-26
John Henry
Hunts a Flat
By GEORGE v. HOBART

Clara J. and I had cut short our
honeymoon, fearing we might be bit
ten by my old pals who had developed
phunnyphobia.
Behind closed doors at mothers
we sat on the slopes Of Arcadia and
gave our fool friends the laugh by the
absent treatment process.
Clara J. went through the newspa
per ads. looking for apartments, and
at the end of the week she had picked
PIG winners.
One bright day, mother, Clara j.,
Tacks, and l sauntered forth for the
purposing Of finding a janitor tame
enough to live in the same house with
"A sweet little nest of our own,
was the way Clara J. put it, but men
tally I put the foot to that nest and
pushed it out of the tree.
A nest, forsooth! Not if saw 1t
first. had a friend once who built
nest in a Harlem fiat, and three
months later strange bird few in
and eloped with his wife. So me for
a dug-out with a yale lock on the
front gate-always!
The first palace we entered bore
up bravely under the name of Hello
trope hall"
suppose they had sprinkled that
name over it SO as to counteract the
effects of the stiff fight soap factory
was putting up four blocks away.
"Heliotrope hall' was all right, but
1t wouldn't do. The janitor showed
us through a collection of horse stalls
on the third floor, and when asked
him If he knew any place around
there large enough to hold table and
two chairs he blew out his cylinder
head.
The janitor told us there were only
three dark rooms, and when l told
him that three was too many for us
and not quite enough for a photog-
rapher l thought he'd bite me.
In the meantime Tacks was out in
the hall cutting his initials on the
dining room door with a penknife.
Tacks always manages to leave a
wide, white wake behind him as he
sails through life.
Our next guess was a high bundle
of stone tied up with strings of white
windows and called THE Daisyora."
Wouldn't that name make your
pulse beat faster?
I've often wondered how apartment
houses and. Pullman cars manage to
do business under the burden of the
bitter names that are thrust upon
them. Fancy a big slob of a car roll
ing through the country with the
name "Babyetta" painted all over it!
should think it would want to
crawl In tunnel and never come out
again.
The janitor in 1.-The Daisyora" was
made up to look like walrus.
When I told him what we were
looking for he showed us two tusks
and led the way to the elevator.
That fellow had the softest voice l
ever heard. Every time he spoke it
sounded like somebody hitting a fat
squash with a paddle.
After the janitor had shown us
through the cubby-hole he said that
no children were allowed there.
why not?" said. 1T looks nearly
large enough"
Then he ran the tusks out again
and we quit him.
Three blocks away we anchored
for few minutes at bungalow
called 1.-THE Dulcydooza."
A colored bell-boy met us at the
door and dared us to come in.
We were offered fiat on the fifth
floor, but the walls were so close to-
gether I told them they'd better save
it. It might be success as place
to press autumn leaves, but never as
a place to live in, unless the tenants
went through life standing up.
Tacks took a knob off one of the