"Mr. Kajones," said young Springbyle, clearing his throat, "I have called to ask permission to pay my addresses to your daughter."
"Which one, Julius?" inquired Mr. Kajones.
The father looked fixedly at the young man. "What are your prospects in life, Julius?" he said.
"To tell you the truth, sir," acknowledged young Springbyle, "I have no prospects worth mentioning. I am in moderate circumstances and have no resources except a knowledge of my business, good health and steady habits."
"Just so, Julius," mused the father. "Your income, I dare say, is----"
"And on this, my young friend, you would expect to support yourself and a young woman who has lived in a home where she has never been used to anything like privation, or even judicious economy?"
"It does seem presumptuous for me to think of it," faltered the youth, "and as I see it does not meet with your approval I will say no more about it and ask your pardon for----"
"Stay, Julius!" exclaimed Mr. Kajones, somewhat hastily. "I only asked you those questions as a matter of form. If you want Maria, my boy, you can have her!" And he shook the young man warmly by the hand.
Mr. Kajones, it may be proper to state, has eight unmarried daughters besides Maria.
Joe--Gus looks crushed, as if he had something heavy on his mind.
Old Gent--Little boy, I am sorry to see you smoking a cigarette.
Little Boy--I ain't smoking it. I'm keeping it alight for another feller what's gone on an errand.
A Negro Who Doesn't Like Chicago Manners.
Yates, an old negro, sought the Mayor of Chicago. "What can I do for you?" the mayor asked.
"Wall, sah, I doan' know 'bout dat, but I come yere to see ef I kain't git jestice somehow."
"'Nuff de matter ter make er man pizen, dat's whut. I moved up yere from the South 'caze I didn't think I wuz enjoyin' all my rights down dar----"
"I see. They interfered with your right to vote."
"Oh, no, sah; da let me vote all I wanted ter. Nices' people 'bout dat I eber seed. Jes' let me stan' up an' vote right erlong, but den da didn't count my vote."
"And you wanted to come to a place where your vote counted?"
"Don't you believe your vote was counted?"
"W'y, sah, I hadn't mo'n voted 'fo' er blame p'liceman came up, he did, an' lammed me ober de head."