Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-02-05
Around the CITY
Ie Nas a real ground hog and l,is name

lie was real ground hog and his name
was Billy.
An ever-changing crowd swarrned
around the glass case in which he was
exhibited. but Billy wasn't caring.
Obvious to the charms Of G street. he
kept himself bumped up in a lot of
excelsior, with his back to his audi
ence and his head burrowed In his paws.
Dcca sionally nc lifted his head high
enough to show dull, unwinking eyes, but
he soon cuddled back into oblivion, de-
spite the cloudy weather that called upon
all good ground hogs to rise up and start
lobbying for spring. But Billy wasn't
that kind of a ground hog-though he
must have been every other kind, judging
by the calculations the crowds banded
about:
.'Lor is that ground hog? Looks more
like a com to me. ;" ~ sr~ -
"Thatss no. ground hog ITS q POSTUM
Isn't like any picture of ground hog
ever saw! More like a porcupine ex-
cepts he haint got quilts.
Say. that's no ground hog. It's a musk
rat" !.
1T didn't seem to occur to one Of that
particular batch of critics that Billy
might look like woodchuck.
But Billy wasn't caring.
He wore a badge, and carried a guide
book.
She was native hurryins along tree
lined path.
And he said to her:
Excuse me; I'm stranger. Is this the
bont onical garden"
md she said to him:
mo, sir. This is the Smiths onion"
And the dictionary blushed.
He was a gentleman of the old school
never mind his wrinkled brown skin and
wrinkled brown clothes-and it was with
he ri-l,0
gave his order to the butcher man:
DE madam say please to cut her two
lam chops fun de lion. suh.''
The butcher man jerked loin from a
into it. And waiting woman said to
herself:
Addition forty eleven to the literature
of the lion and the lamb"
The moon was crawling through a tum-
BILE of Sray-black clouds. There were
some silver tipped edges, and in a patch of
clear sky single star shone like light
in heavens window
And one of two women who were look
ing upward sighed with the rapture of a
true enthusiast:
Doesn't it look like post card from
Atlantic City,.
4 raggedy colored man was digging up
the asphalt inside a chalked ring He
was working on a wide, quiet street NORTH
of the Avenue, and at one precise minute
he had it all to himself except for a
woman who was crossing from the oppo-
site side.
As the Old fellow made the obstinate
chunks fly under his prod, he chuckled
and talked to himself with such mani
fest jubilation that the woman stopped
and joined the fest.
Good morning, uncle. Enjoying your
self aren't you?"
''Yessum. lady. praise God. I'm tollable
spry dis mawnin'. You heahs me mi
ratin' to mahsef because / amt clar yet
viewer Use got nah evy day senses or
dets dreamin'. I ben outer a. job so
long. CHI lie. l amt had my fill of billed
dinner for monfs an monfs. Pears to me
/ was Sittin' ready to starve clean out
when l come across my ole boss son
an he gimme dis job mendin' streets-I
ben latin to mahsef cause I'm gwine
sleep cumf br desc cole nights an have
my hot breakfats in dc mawnins.''
And when you come to think OF it, neigh
bors. there's nothing on earth that beats
sleeping comfortably on winter night.
with a sure prospect of breakfast in the
morning.
If you don't believe it, ask those who
have 10 go without.