Buch lesen: «Fables in Slang», Seite 4

THE FABLE OF FLORA AND ADOLPH AND A HOME GONE WRONG

One morning a Modern Solomon, who had been chosen to preside as Judge in a Divorce Mill, climbed to his Perch and unbuttoned his Vest for the Wearisome Grind. He noticed that the first Case looming up on the Docket was that of Flora Botts vs. Adolph Botts.

The Applicant, Mrs. Botts, and Adolph, the Other Half of the Domestic Sketch, were already inside the Railing, each attempting to look the other out of Countenance.

"Break!" ordered the Judge. "Don't act as if you were at Home. Now, what has Adolph been doing?"

It seemed that she alleged Cruelty, Neglect, Inhuman Treatment, Violent Temper, Threats, etc., etc.

"We have no Chills-and-Fever Music to lend Effect to the Sad Narrative you are about to Spring," said the Judge, looking down at the Plaintiff, who belonged to the Peroxide Tribe. "Furthermore, we will take it for granted that when you first met Defendant your Innocence and Youth made it a Walkaway for his Soft Approaches, and that you had every Reason to believe that he was a Perfect Gentleman. Having disposed of these Preliminaries, let us have the Plot of the Piece."

So she told her Story in a Tremulous, Viola Allen kind of Voice, while her Lawyer wept.

He was ready to Weep for anyone who would hand him $8. Afterthought—make it $7.50.

It was a Dark Tale of how Botts, the Viperish Defendant, had Sneered at her, called her Oh-Such-Names, humiliated her in the presence of Callers, and nagged her with Sarcastic Comments until her Tender Sensibilities had been worn to a Frazzle.

Then the Defendant went on the Stand and entered a General Denial. He had been all that a Rattling Good Husband could be, but she had been a regular Rudyard Kipling Vampire. She had continued to make his Life one lingering Day-After of Regret. His Record for Patience and Long-Suffering had made Job's Performance look like an Amateur's Half-Try.

"There is more in this Case than appears on the Surface," said the Modern Solomon. "In order to fix the Blame we shall have to dig up the First Cause. I will ask Chemical Flora to tell us the Story of her Past Life."

"My Parents were Poor, but Refined," said Mrs. Botts. "They gave me Every Advantage. After I finished the High School I attended a Conservatory, and every one said I had Talent. I should have been an Elocutionist. Once I went to Rockford and recited "The Tramp's Story" at a Club Social, and I got a Lovely Notice. I am especially good at Dialect Recitations."

"Humorous?" asked the Court.

"Yes, sir; but I can turn right around and be Pathetic all of a sudden, if I want to be."

"I suppose that Botts, after he had lived with you for awhile, didn't have any Hankering Desire to hear you Recite," suggested the Modern Solomon.

"That's just it. When I'd offer to get up in Company and speak Something he'd ask me please not to Recite, and if I had to make a Show of myself, for God's Sake not to tackle anything Humorous, with a Conservatory Dialect to it."

"But you wouldn't let him Stop you?"

"Not on your Life."

"I'd believe you, even if you wasn't under Oath. Now, will Mr. Botts answer me one Question? Has he any Ambition on the Side?"

"Although I am a Bookkeeper for a Gravel-Roofing Concern, I have always believed I could Write," replied Adolph Botts. "About four years ago I began to prepare the Book for a Comic Opera. A Friend of mine who works in a Hat Store was to Compose the Music. I think he has more Ability than Victor Herbert."

"Did this Friend think Well of your Libretto?" asked the Wise Judge.

"Yes, sir; he said it was the Best Thing that had been done since 'Erminie.' In fact, everybody liked my Book."

"Except your Wife," suggested the Court.

"That's it, exactly. I wanted Sympathy and Encouragement and she gave me the Metallic Laugh. There is one Patter Song in my Opera that Every One who comes to my House has been Crazy to hear. Whenever I started to Sing it she would talk in a loud Voice. She never seemed to Appreciate my Stuff. I think the Bleach affected her Head."

"Has the Opera been produced?" asked the Court, with Humane Hesitancy.

"No, the Eastern Managers were all tied up with Harry B. Smith," replied Mr. Botts. "Then there's a Prejudice against Western Talent."

"Well, Mr. Botts, in View of all the Evidence, I have decided to give you a Decree of Divorce from Flo of the Wheaten Tresses," said the Modern Solomon.

"But look here!" exclaimed the Defendant, "I haven't applied for any Divorce."

"You don't have to. I give it to you anyway. As for you, Mrs. Botts, I will give you a Decree also. The Alimony will be $25 per."

"Thanks."

"I don't think you grasp the Decision. When I say that the Alimony is $25 per, I mean that Mrs. Botts will be required to pay that Amount to Adolph every week."

"Shameful!"

"Don't be too hasty. I further Decree that Mr. Botts must pay the same Amount to Flora every Week."

"That simply makes it a Stand-Off," remarked Mr. Botts, who was puzzled.

"My idea of the Case, neatly expressed," said the Modern Solomon. "Each of you is Divorced from the Other, and if Either of you ever Marries again, He or She will be jerked before this Tribunal and sentenced to Ten Years of Hard Labor in some Penal Institution."

Whereupon the Court took a Noon Recess of 3-1/2 hours.

Moral: Genius must ever walk Alone.

THE FABLE OF THE COPPER AND THE JOVIAL UNDERGRADS

One Night three Well-Bred Young Men, who were entertained at the Best Houses wherever they went, started out to Wreck a College town.

They licked two Hackmen, set fire to an Awning, pulled down many Signs, and sent a Brick through the Front Window of a Tailor Shop. All the Residents of the Town went into their Houses and locked the Doors; Terror brooded over the Community.

A Copper heard the Racket, and saw Women and Children fleeing to Places of Safety, so he gripped his Club and ran Ponderously, overtaking the three Well-Bred Young Men in a dark part of the Street, where they were Engaged in tearing down a Fence.

He could not see them Distinctly, and he made the Mistake of assuming that they were Drunken Ruffians from the Iron Foundry. So he spoke harshly, and told them to Leave Off breaking the Man's Fence. His Tone and Manner irritated the University Men, who were not accustomed to Rudeness from Menials.

One Student, who wore a Sweater, and whose people butt into the Society Column with Sickening Regularity, started to Tackle Low; he had Bushy Hair and a Thick Neck, and his strong Specialty was to swing on Policemen and Cabbies.

At this, his Companion, whose Great Grandmother had been one of the eight thousand Close Relatives of John Randolph, asked him not to Kill the Policeman. He said the Fellow had made a Mistake, that was all; they were not Muckers; they were Nice Boys, intent on preserving the Traditions of dear old Alma Mater.

The Copper could hardly Believe it until they led him to a Street Lamp, and showed him their Engraved Cards and Junior Society Badges; then he Realized that they were All Right. The third Well-Bred Young Man, whose Male Parent got his Coin by wrecking a Building Association in Chicago, then announced that they were Gentlemen, and could Pay for everything they broke. Thus it will be seen that they were Rollicking College Boys and not Common Rowdies.

The Copper, perceiving that he had come very near getting Gay with our First Families, Apologized for Cutting In. The Well-Bred Young Men forgave him, and then took his Club away from him, just to Demonstrate that there were no Hard Feelings. On the way back to the Seat of Learning they captured a Night Watchman, and put him down a Man-Hole.

Moral: Always select the Right Sort of Parents before you start in to be Rough.

THE FABLE OF THE PROFESSOR WHO WANTED TO BE ALONE

Now it happens that in America a man who goes up hanging to a Balloon is a Professor.

One day a Professor, preparing to make a Grand Ascension, was sorely pestered by Spectators of the Yellow-Hammer Variety, who fell over the Stay-Ropes or crowded up close to the Balloon to ask Fool Questions. They wanted to know how fur up he Calkilated to go and was he Afeerd and how often had he did it. The Professor answered them in the Surly Manner peculiar to Showmen accustomed to meet a WebFoot Population. On the Q.T. the Prof. had Troubles of his own. He was expected to drop in at a Bank on the following Day and take up a Note for 100 Plunks. The Ascension meant 50 to him, but how to Corral the other 50? That was the Hard One.

This question was in his Mind as he took hold of the Trapeze Bar and signaled the Farm Hands to let go. As he trailed Skyward beneath the buoyant silken Bag he hung by his Knees and waved a glad Adieu to the Mob of Inquisitive Yeomen. A Sense of Relief came to him as he saw the Crowd sink away in the Distance.

Hanging by one Toe, and with his right Palm pressed to his Eyes, he said: "Now that I am Alone, let me Think, let me Think."

There in the Vast Silence He Thought.

Presently he gave a sigh of Relief.

"I will go to my Wife's Brother and make a Quick Touch," he said. "If he refuses to Unbelt I will threaten to tell his Wife of the bracelet he bought in Louisville."

Having reached this Happy Conclusion, he loosened the Parachute and quickly descended to the Earth.

Moral: Avoid Crowds.

THE FABLE OF A STATESMAN WHO COULDN'T MAKE GOOD

Once there was a Bluff whose Long Suit was Glittering Generalities.

He hated to Work and it hurt his Eyes to read Law, but on a Clear Day he could be heard a Mile, so he became a Statesman.

Whenever the Foresters had a Picnic they invited him to make the Principal Address, because he was the only Orator who could beat out the Merry-Go-Round.

The Habit of Dignity enveloped him.

Upon his Brow Deliberation sat. He wore a Fireman's moustache and a White Lawn Tie, and he loved to Talk about the Flag.

At a Clam-Bake in 1884 he hurled Defiance at all the Princes and Potentates of Europe, and the Sovereign Voters, caught up by his Matchless Eloquence and Unswerving Courage, elected him to the Legislature.

While he was in the Legislature he discovered that these United States were an Asylum for the Down-Trodden and oppressed of the Whole World, and frequently called Attention to the Fact. When some one asked him if he was cutting up any Easy Money or would it be safe for a Man with a Watch to go to Sleep in the same Room with him, he would take a Drink of Water and begin to plead for Cuba.

Once an Investigating Committee got after him and he was about to be Shown Up for Dallying with Corporations, but he put on a fresh White Tie and made a Speech about our Heroic Dead on a Hundred Battle-Fields, and Most People said it was simply Impossible for such a Thunderous Patriot to be a Crook. So he played the Glittering Generality stronger than ever.

In Due Time he Married a Widow of the Bantam Division. The Reason she married him was that he looked to her to be a Coming Congressman and she wanted to get a Whack at Washington Society. Besides, she lived in a Flat and the Janitor would not permit her to keep a Dog.

About Ten Days after they were Married he came Home at 4 A.M. in a Sea-Going Hack and he was Saturated. Next Morning she had him up on the Carpet and wanted to know How About It.

He arose and put his Right Hand inside of his Prince Albert Coat and began.

"Madam," he said, "During a Long, and, I trust, a not altogether fruitless Career as a Servant of the Peepul, I have always stood in the Fierce Light of Publicity, and my Record is an Open Book which he who runs may–"

"Nix! Nix!" she said, rapping for order with a Tea-Cup. "Let go of the Flying Rings. Get back to the Green Earth!"

He dilated his Nostrils and said: "From the Rock-Bound Hills of Maine in the North to the Everglades of Florida–"

"Forget the Everglades," she said, rapping again. "That Superheated Atmosphere may have a certain Tonic Effect on the Hydrocephalous Voter, but if you want to adjust yourself with Wifey, you come down to Cases."

So he went out after Breakfast and bought a $22 Hat in order to Square himself.

Moral: Some Women should be given the Right to Vote.