White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1930-10-24
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Getting Worse All the Time

Getting Worse All the Time
THE transcontiDental flyer had
pulled out from Chicago for tie
long run to the coast and the con-
ductor had made his rounds. when the
passengers in one OF the coaches be-
came aware of signs of concern on
the part of fellow traveller This
was an elderly bearded man in old
fashioned garb and of fatherly aspect.
He sat with his head in his hands
muttering to himself in Yiddish and at
intervals uttering low moaning sounds.
They sympathized with his grief
and among themselves wondered what
allied him. The common theory was
that the poor old fellow must be on
his way across country. hoping to
reach the bedside of some dear one
who was in sore affliction. Or, pos
sibly, he was going West to attend
funeral.
Next morning, as the train entered
Kansas, his grief seemed greater even
than it had been the night before. He
groaned almost continuously, beating
himself gently on the breast and ct
intervals exclaiming:
"Oi! Oiw
This continued all through that day
and the day following. The patriarch
seemed so alone. in his .,orrow; so
completely desolated. Kindly eyes re-
garded him and all on the train
wished they might do something to
soothe him and comfort him. But he
was stranger, and after all, there
wasn't anything really they could do;
besides, they felt it was not proper
that they, who never before had seen
him, should intrude upon his distress
Finally, though, on the next after
loon when they were crossin; south
ern California and were within a few
score miles of Los Angeles, one big
hearted man could contain himself no
longer. He approached the seat where
the old man sat in huddle of misery
and extending cordial hand, he said:
"Sir, | do not know you. do not
wish you to thirk that am inquisitive
but have been sorely moved by your
distress and perhaps row that we are
approaching our destination can be
Of some small assistance to you. Is
there anything can do?"
Tears gushed from the old mans
eyes as he mutely shook his head.
"Tm so sorry. Pardon me for ask
ing, but have you suffered personal
bereavement
The ancient shook his head in the
negative.
rs it worse than that evenY'
nod.
swell, then, what is the matter?"
"Listen, Meester, tree days already
am on der wrong train!"
Cutting Out the Frills.
INTO the smelly Bowery lunchroom
entered hungry and impatient per.
son. He took a seat. A shirt sleeved
waiter ranged up along side him.
SWELL" demanded the newcomer
where's the menu?"
"Say," answered the waiter, where
wv Jou IHlih you die, duyuCW-tue
Ritz-Carlton? We amt got no menus
Just pick out what you want, same as
our others customers does, and If we
got 1t I'll bring 1t to you.'
"But how am going to know what
you've got If it amt wrote out on
card?" said the puzzled patron.
"Why, you just take look at the
spots on the tablecloth and see what
other folks have had today" explained
the servitor.
So the stranger took look at the
spots on the tablecloth and ordered
lentil soup, hamburger steak, fried to-
matoes, BURBERRY pie. and a cup OF
coffee. After he had concluded a some
what hurried but seemingly satisfac
tory meal again he hailed the waiter:
"Where's the check?"
"Sull dreamin', huh?" said the other
scornfulIy. "Ain't you got II through
your head yet that this amt no fancy
joint? We don't have no checks. All
you got to do is stop there at the
cashiers desk by the door as you 20
out and she'll tell you how much you
owe"
"How is she going to know what ]
had?"
"Trust her-shel know. all right"
So the departing customer, without
q word, halted before the cashier.
The later, keen-eyed young woman.
bent forward over her desk and gave
a quick. appraising glance at his shirt.
front.
"Lemme see," she murmured. "len
til soup, hamburger, fried tomatoes.
pie and coifee-ninety cents mister
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