THE FABLE OF WHY SWEETIE FLEW THE TRACK

Once there were two Married People who used "Lovey" and "Pet" when they were in Company, and as soon as they were at Home they Threw Things at each other. She used to watch him through a Hole in the Curtain to see if he Flirted with any Women as he walked up the Street, and he bribed the Hired Girl to tell him Everything that happened while he was off the Reservation.

They did not Mocha and Java worth a Cent.
The Cardboard Motto in the Dining Room said, "Love One Another," but they were too Busy to Read.
He had a Clearing on the top of his Head and wore Side-Whiskers and bore a general Resemblance to the Before in an Ad for a Facial Treatment, and yet she suspected that all the Women in Town were Crazy to steal him away from her.

Likewise, inasmuch as she was the same Width all the way up and down, the same as a Poster Girl, and used to sport a Velvet Shroud with Black Beads on it, and could wield a Tooth-Pick and carry on a Conversation at the same time, he knew that sooner or later some Handsome Wretch with Money would try to Abduct her.
Sometimes he would bring a Friend Home to Dinner, and then if the Friend extended himself and told the Missus how well she was looking or Perjured himself over her Hand-Painting, Papa would get a Grouch and hide in the Corner.

Then she would Fan herself rapidly and ask, "Aren't you well, Dear?"
Dear would force one of those Dying-Martyr Smiles and reply, "I am quite well, Puss."
Then Puss would tell the Visitor that Baby was simply ruining his Health through Devotion to his Employers, but they didn't seem to Appreciate him at all.

After the Visitor went away there would be Language all over the Shop, and the poor Hired Girl would lock the Door and write to the Intelligence Office for a new Place.
Truly, it was a Happy Little Home, with the Reverse English.

She would Frisk his Wardrobe every day or two, looking for Evidence, and he would compel her to Itemize her Accounts so that he might be sure she was not giving Jewelry to the Iceman.
She would find a certain Passage in a Book, relating to Man's Cruelty and Woman's Silent Suffering, and then she would Mark the Passage and put it where he could Find it. Then when he Found it, he would Mark it "Rot!" and put it where She could find it, and then she would Weep and write Letters to Lady Authors telling them how Sad and Lonely she was.

But all the Time they kept up an Affectionate Front before their Acquaintances. They thought it better to avoid Scenes in Public; and although each knew that the other was False and had ceased to Love, they could not bring themselves to think of a Separation or a Divorce on account of the Cat—their Cat! The Cat must never know.
However, one of his Business Associates was On. He was a Bachelor and had lived at a European Hotel for Years, and he knew just how to Arbitrate a Domestic Scrap. So he sat down one day and gave the Husband a Good Talking-To. He said it was a Shame that such Nice People should have their Differences when it was so easy to be Happy. With that he handed over a Slew of Platitudes and Proverbs, such as: "A Soft Answer Turneth Away Wrath," "It takes Two to Make a Quarrel," "Think Twice before you Speak once," et cetera.
The Gist of his heart-to-heart Talk was that any Husband could stop Rough House Proceedings and shoot all kinds of Sweetness and Light into the sassiest Mooch a Wife ever got on to herself, if only he would refuse to Quarrel with her, receive her Flings without a Show of Wrath, and get up every Morning ready to Plug for a Renaissance of their Early Love.

Oh, but it was a Beauty Bright System! The European Hotel Bachelor said it couldn't Lose.
The Husband decided to give it a Trial. That very Afternoon he met his Wife, who had come out in her long Fawn-Colored Coat that fell straight in the Back. She had her Upper Rigging set, and was trying to Blanket everything on the Street. He flashed a Smiling Countenance, and said he was glad to see her. Then, instead of asking her When she left the House, and Where she had been since then, and How Soon she expected to go Home again, he told her she was looking Unusually Charming. She was Startled.
He handed her a Ten and told her to have a Good Time. Now, usually, when she wanted any Pin Money, she had to Pry it out of him.

On her way home her Mind was in a Tumult. Why had he given her the Con Speech and all that Money? What was the Ulterior Motive? What had he been Doing that he should attempt to Coddle her into a Forgiving Mood? Did he Fear that she would get next to his Past? Huh?

He just couldn't Fool her. She knew Something was Doing. Else why should he try to Fix her?
As soon as he came Home that Evening she Accused him and said she knew All. Instead of Countering with the usual Gibe, he told her that she was the Only Woman he had ever Loved and would she go to a Show that Evening? She went, thinking that perhaps the Other Woman might be there and she could detect some Signal passing between them. While at the Theater he fanned her and explained the Plot, and was all Attention. They rode Home in a Cab, because he said a Car wasn't good enough for His Queen. After they were at Home he asked her to sing the Song he had liked so much in the Old Days, "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean." This was Conclusive Proof to her that the Hussy's Name was Bonnie.

Next Morning before he started away he Kissed her, and it wasn't any Make-Believe such as you see in Comic Opera. It was a genuine Olga Nethersole Buss, full of Linger and Adhesion. To cap the Climax he said he would stop in and order some Violets.

As soon as the Door slammed she Staggered toward the Kitchen, holding on to the Furniture here and there, the same as a Sardou Heroine. In the Kitchen was a Box of Rough on Rats. Hastily Concealing it beneath the loose Folds of her Morning Gown, she went to her Room and looked in the Mirror.
Ah, when he saw that Cold, White Face, then he would be Sorry. Upon Second Thought, this didn't seem to be a Moral Certainty, so she Weakened and had the Girl take the Poison and Hide it. She said she would Live—Live to Forget his Perfidy.

That day she went back to Mamma, and took the Cat with her.
When he came Home in the Twilight he found no Wife, no Cat—only a Scribbled Note saying that he could no longer Deceive her; that she had seen through his Diabolical Plan to Lull her Suspicions, and that she was no longer Safe in the Same House.

When the Deserted Husband went to the Friend and told him what had Happened, the Wise Bachelor said:
"I see. You did not go at her Strong enough."

MORAL: They don't know Anything about it.

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

The Ant and the Elephant


Let’s say that you could combine, into one super brain, 100 of the best minds in the history of mankind. Would that super-intelligent brain be able to fully appreciate all the wonders of the universe? Probably not. The universe is simply too big, too wondrous, too fantastic for humans. Imagine an ant crawling all over an elephant. That ant has little or no idea of what that elephant is all about. Nor do we humans grasp the magnitude of the wonders of our universe.
For example, many of us merely take the sun for granted; sometimes we even complain about it! How many of us marvel at it, wondering about its seemingly infinite power and energy? Yet the sun is but one of uncountable billions of stars in the universe. It isn’t even a remarkable star; there are billions just like it. And billions more that are unlike it, in thousands of different, fascinating ways!
How many stars are out there? Think of your favorite beach. How many grains of sand are on that beach? Now think of all the grains of sand on all the beaches on Earth. Yes, the sky has more stars than the Earth has these grains of sand.
But many of us are too busy with our “ant” lives to notice or appreciate the elephant.

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Rest in Peace


A routine check of the main building on the Rest in Peace Cemetery in Santa Fe turned up thousands of cardboard boxes containing the remains of cremated people. An inspector from the state’s Cemetery and Funeral Bureau found the boxes stacked neatly in various rooms of the cemetery’s main building. Instead of having names of the departed, most boxes simply had dates inscribed on them. The dates went all the way back to June 14, 1930.
The owner of the cemetery, Mrs. Marbles, said she had just bought the property a year ago. She said she had never even been in many of the rooms of the main building. She said that she had bought the cemetery solely for its land value.
“As we all know,” she said, “God keeps making people, but He’s not making any more land. It’s only a matter of time before all this land is going to be needed for the living. When that happens, this property will be worth at least ten times what I paid for it. I’m already in discussions with several condo developers.”
The inspector said that it looked like most of the remains were from the 1930s to the 1970s. He figured that the people were probably homeless people whose bodies were never claimed at the funeral homes. The funeral homes cremated the bodies and then gave the remains to the cemetery for proper burial. He said that even though these remains were up to 75 years old, they would be buried with dignity and respect.
“After all,” he said, “all of these people had relatives at one time. They might even have children and grandchildren living right here in Santa Fe.”

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Where Did That Book Go?


Samuel was back at the thrift shop. He had walked into the shop with only one goal in mind—to find a book that he had NOT bought yesterday. The book was one of seven that he had piled up yesterday. He was going to buy all of them. But at the last moment, he changed his mind. He put all seven back on the shelf.
Samuel had a personal library at home that exceeded 1,000 books—almost all unread. He subscribed to seven magazines and one daily newspaper. Samuel had more reading material in his small apartment than he could finish in two lifetimes, yet his urge to buy more books raged on.
He finally put his foot down. Not one more book, he told himself, unless it was really special. Yesterday’s book fit the bill. It was a biography of one of his favorite authors—Stephen King. King is one of America’s most popular fiction authors. But it wasn’t easy for King; early in his career, he got hundreds of rejection slips. Samuel wanted to be a great writer. King was his role model.
Samuel immediately found one of the books he had piled up yesterday, and then another one. All right, he thought. This was going to be easy. In minutes, he found all the books that he had held in his hands yesterday, except one—the Stephen King book. Gee, what a surprise, he thought. The one book that I want to find is the one book that I can’t find.
Samuel took a walk throughout the store, knowing that people often pick up merchandise in one place and then leave it in another place. The book was a thick paperback with a red cover. But it was nowhere to be found.
So for Samuel, the Big Hunt was on. He was now a man on a mission. Every thrift shop he went to would involve a search for the King book. This new search added purpose to his thrift shop life.
Samuel had held something special in his hands. But only when he let it go did he realize its value. When he found it again, he would place the King book prominently on his bookshelf. It would almost certainly be his favorite book that he never got around to reading.

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

A Murder-Suicide


A man and a woman died in an apparent murder-suicide last night in Altadena. The man was 74-year-old Dominic Vittorio. The woman was his 70-year-old wife, Victoria. The couple had been married for 50 years. In fact, their 50th anniversary occurred just a month ago, according to their next-door neighbor, Mrs. Allen. The couple was childless and had no close friends. Mr. Vittorio was a retired carpenter who had emphysema and was blind in one eye because of a cataract. His wife was a diabetic who had already had one foot amputated because of complications from the disease. Her eyesight was almost completely gone.
“They were such a nice couple,” said Mrs. Allen. “I’ve lived next to them for the last 20 years or so. I’m widowed, and Dom always used to help me with things like changing light bulbs and fixing appliances. They had no kids, but they were always friendly to the neighborhood kids. Every Halloween they handed out tons of candy and fresh fruit. But about eight years ago Vicky came down with diabetes, and things just haven’t been the same for her or Dom. They used to be so friendly and full of life, and then they just seemed to get quieter and quieter.
“She used to come over to my place once or twice a week, and we would talk about all kinds of things and have the nicest time. But that happened less and less as she got sicker. So I would go over to her house about once a week and we would talk. But the conversations steadily got shorter, and she seemed to lose interest in listening and in talking. She didn’t say it, but you could tell she was in a lot of pain.”
Mrs. Allen said she hadn’t even talked to either of the Vittorios in almost a year. They never came out. Even food was delivered to them by a local agency. She said she heard two gunshots last night—“It scared me half to death!” She immediately called the police. “Such a sad ending for such nice people,” she said. “Together in sickness, but alone in the world.”

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Theft Occurs Everywhere


An elderly woman told the police that, as she entered a restroom, she was jostled by a woman behind her. A few minutes later, as she was about to pay for a mustache remover at a nearby store, she discovered that her wallet was missing from her purse. Apparently the woman who had bumped into her had cleverly stolen her wallet. This type of theft is called pick-pocketing.
Perhaps an even more personal kind of theft is known as housebreaking, or burglary. After such an intrusion, the victims often report a feeling of violation. They seldom regain the comfort and security level they used to have in their home. They constantly feel like they are being watched; they feel that if they go out, the burglars will again come in. They feel uncomfortable when they are home, and they feel uncomfortable when they aren’t home.
Burglars get lucky or make their own luck. Sometimes homeowners forget to lock all their windows or doors. Sometimes burglars will break a window, cut through a screen door, or force open a side door.
Thieves have no shame. They will steal from anyone that they think is vulnerable. Of course, that means the elderly are their frequent victims. Some thieves are very clever; some are very lucky. All of them make an honest person’s life more difficult. It’s too bad that all of them can’t be caught and converted into honest people.
Imagine that: a world with no larceny, a world where you can park your bicycle unsecured on the sidewalk, or leave your purse unattended in your shopping cart. Is this only a dream? Some say that if you can dream about it, it can happen.

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Book Him


A man accused of failing to return more than 700 children’s books to five different libraries in the county was released from jail yesterday after a book publisher agreed to post his bond of RM1,000. The publisher said, “There’s a story here. This is a man who loves books. He just can’t let go of them. He hasn’t stolen a single book. So what’s the crime? We think that Mr. Barush has a story to tell. We plan to publish his story.”
When asked why he didn’t return the books, Mr. Barush said, “Well, how could I? They became family to me. I was afraid to return them, because I knew that kids or dogs would get hold of these books and chew them up, throw them around, rip the pages, spill soda on them, get jam and jelly on them, and drown them in the toilet.”
He continued, “Books are people, too! They talk to you, they take care of you, and they enrich you with wisdom and humor and love. A book is my guest in my home. How could I kick it out? I repaired torn pages. I dusted them with a soft clean cloth. I turned their pages so they could breathe and get some fresh air.
“Every week I reorganized them on their shelves so they could meet new friends. My books were HAPPY books. You could tell just by looking at them. Now they’re all back in the library, on the lower shelves, on the floors, at the mercy of all those runny-nosed kids. I can hear them calling me! I need to rescue them. Excuse me. I have to go now.”

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS