The Duluth rip-saw. [volume] (Duluth, Minn.) 1917-19??, 1917-04-07

The table in Johnny's Chop
house was piled high with brok-
en- food, dirty dishes and empty
bottles. The Dauntless Three had
dined fully and we'll. They had
absorbed numerous cocktails,
highballs, grapey vintages Of sun
ny France and smoky fire-wa-
ter from old Scotland. Some ST.
dollar steaks had been carved
and consumed. Royal de luxe
salads had gone the way Of the
blue ribbon beef. Almost price
less French-fried potatoes had
been nibbled. Cunningly COM
pounded desserts had tickled
their jaded palates. The $780,
check had been paid. The obse-
quious waiter had shuffled away
with his $3-tip. Now the Turk
ish cigarettes were beginning to
lose their soothing flavor. The
Three Guardsmen, the three bot
tle-scarred veterans, felt the need
of action and excitement.
"Nothing to eat but food!''
growled Sir Andrew, the eldest
and biggest Of the bunch. "Noth-
ing to drink but booze!" Moth
ing to spend but money! Nothing
to waste but time! Nowhere to
90 but out! Oh this Puritan
town! I wish we were in Glas-
gov, gay Paree or even in odd
Milwaukee am-der-Schlitz. "
my wife's gone to the coun-
try, hurrah, hurrah,' carrolled
the Commodore.
'Lesh 60 up an see little Alice
in Won erland," suggested Gin
cinnatus, the farmer-statesman.
,"Wise boy! You will go to con-
gress yeti" exclaimed sir An
drew"
"Shiver my stern plates"
added the Commodore, "you're
the lad who knows how to throw
a life-preserver.
"Brethren," spoke up Sir An
drew, "that good mother in Is
rael, sister Julia, has her retreat
for innocent and homeless maid
ems in We old hotel Brunswick,
hard by. I fain would greet that
good woman and give her word
of encouragement as to her grand
work in this wicked. and per-
verse generation
"Scots wha haze wi Wallace
led"-began the Commodore,
only to be summarily stopped by
Sir Andrew.
"None of your sarcastic COM
ments, you dyspeptic cynic,"
commanded the brawny product
Of haggis and oatmeal.
"We're goin' up to shee Lit
tie Alice in Won 'erland," glee-
fully remarked Cincinnatus. 81
wish my OIL frien', the Gambler
King were here to 60 wiz ush."
The Three ,Guardsmen, victors
in many a foray in the Bad
Lands, donned their top coats
and hats and started on their
pilgrimage into Wonderland,
where the good sister Julia
guarded her little eve lambs
from the prowling wolves of Su-
perior street. They entered the
doorway and started to climb up
the dark stairway to sister JUL
las sacred precincts.
Now the Commodore has a roll
licking voice and when just a few
seas-over, likes to burst forth in
song. Although his voice is a
bit hoarse from breathing the
fogs of St. Clair Flats. he can
pipe a lay worth going blocks to
hear. AS they laboriously climbed
flights of stairs, seemingly as
long and high as the one Jacob
saw the angels going up and
down, the Commodore could not
refrain from raising his voice in
song.
Fifteen men on the dead mans
chest
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for
the rest
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of RUM"
It fairly made the welkin ring
and when they reached the door
into the holy-of-holies, they were
met by good Madam Julia with
her face registering alarm.
Brethren! brethren!" she ex-
claimed. Kindly be quiet. This
is no boiler shop. You will scare
the ladies. Also, perchance, you
will wake up Chief McKercher,
although that is a yerv difficult