She Waited

1901

Even a Scotchman cannot always be humorous, if he would. Like other people, however, he is sometimes funny without meaning to be. The Scottish-American thinks that the message sent by a young man in Peeblesshire to his waiting bride may have kept her from worrying over his nonappearance, but that she must after all have received it with mixed feelings.

The bride elect lived in a village some distance from the home of William the bridegroom. The wedding was to be at her home. On the eventful day the young man started for the station, but on the way met the village grocer, who talked so entertainingly that William missed his train.

Naturally he was in what is known as a "state of mind." Something must be done and done at once. So he sent the following telegram:

Don't marry till I come. WILLIAM.

If the bride elect knew her William she probably knew how he felt when he sent the message and forgave the mental confusion which resulted in what she must have looked upon as a needless request.

Boyhood Chum of Andy Carnegie Passes Away

1915

"Thirty" Comes to "Dode" Moreland, Veteran Telegrapher, Once Captured by Mosby.

PITTSBURGH, Pa., Dec. 16. — Theodore ("Dode") Moreland, aged 72, a patriarch among telegraphers here, and a boyhood friend and fellow-worker of Andrew Carnegie, the multi-millionaire, died in a hospital here as the result of an accident which occurred several weeks ago.

Mr. Moreland, like Carnegie, became an operator for the Western Union Telegraph Company and it was while following this work that the two renewed their boyhood friendship. Later they served as members of the Signal Corps during the Civil War.

At one time during the hostilities Mr. Moreland was captured by Mosby, the famous Confederate guerrilla leader. Mr. Moreland's mount was a better horse than that of Mosby, but the telegrapher was surrounded by rebels. Mosby, after detaining Mr. Moreland for some time, contented himself by "swapping" horses with the Northerner and then permitted him to ride his inferior mount back to the Federal lines.

After the war, Mr. Moreland and Mr. Carnegie drifted apart, Mr. Moreland continuing to make dots and dashes, while Mr. Carnegie made millions.

Several years ago, however, when Mr. Carnegie chanced to hear again of his erstwhile fellow-worker, he ordered that a pension of $50 a month be paid him. This was done for some time, tho the pension for some unknown reason ceased two years ago.

Mr. Moreland continued his work at the key until he had reached the maximum age of 70 years, when pensioned by the Western Union Company, being one of the first operators in Pittsburgh to be retired.

A Sensational Runaway

1896

A runaway couple were married on a railway train near Shelbyville, Ind., last week. The girl's parents opposed the match, and watched her closely to prevent her giving them the slip and getting married. The young man learned that the squire was to travel by a certain tram one day last week, and arranged with the girl to meet him at the station. He went to Columbus and got the license, met the girl at the station as the train came in, and the pair boarded it and were married by the squire before the train had gone many miles and before any stop was made where they could be intercepted by a telegram from the girl's parents. — New York Sun.


Lee Ephraim's Sevens

Certainly the figure seven has marked the career of Lee Ephraim, of Roanoke, Va., to an extraordinary extent. He was born in the year 1877, on the seventh day of the month and on the seventh month of the year and seventh hour of the day. He has seven letters in his surname and it requires seven letters to spell the name of the State in which he was born. He has lived in four cities, and the name of each one contained seven letters. He has seven sisters and brothers, and one time drew a valuable prize on the number 77. Oddly enough this prize was not $777. — New York Press.


Great Antlers

At a recent exhibition of antlers at Berlin the Emperor took two prizes, one for the best collection and one for the best single head.

Wrong Meaning of Message

1915

Young Wife Makes Amusing Interpretation of Scripture in a Telegram From Girl Friend

They were speaking of the remarkable way in which telegraphic messages are occasionally interpreted, and this story was recalled by Governor- elect David I. Walsh of Massachusetts.

Some time ago the stork visited the home of a happy young couple in a New England town, and wishing to notify her girl chum who lived in a distant city, the mother sent the following telegram:

"For unto us a child is born. — Isaiah 9:6."

"Oh, John," exclaimed the girl chum to her husband on receiving the dispatch. "I have just got a telegram from Gladys and what do you think?"

"You have got me chucked out at first in the conundrum game," indulgently smiled John. "What's the answer?"

"Gladys has a baby boy!" enthusiastically responded little wifey. "His name is Isaiah and he weighs nine pounds and six ounces!" — Philadelphia Telegraph.

Son Accuses Father of Eloping with Wife

1914

La Crosse, Wis., Jan. 2. — That Albert Rockwell, Nelson, Wis., eloped with his young daughter-in-law, deserting his own wife, is the assertion of his son, Bert Rockwell, who caused his arrest.

Rockwell was brought back from Spirit Lake, Idaho. Arraigned in the county court on a statutory charge he pleaded not guilty and was held to the circuit court for trial. His wife and son testified against him. The eloping father was traced to Idaho by a post card sent to Wisconsin relatives by his son's wife.

The son asserts that a year ago he decided to move to Nelson, Wis., from Minnesota. He went ahead to prepare the home, his father offering to help his young wife with the moving.

Young Rockwell telegraphed his wife and little girl to "come." They did not, neither did they answer. Then Rockwell received word from his mother that his father, wife and child had disappeared with $8,000 the elder Rockwells had saved.

Mrs. Rockwell, wife of the son, was not brought back from Idaho, her husband saying all he is after is revenge upon the father for breaking up two homes.

The Cost of a Cocktail

1916

The Drink a Young Business Man Had to Have Before Lunch

In New York city there is a man who once paid $6,000 for a cocktail. He did not know it then, and he never will know it unless he happens to read this story.

A certain prosperous manufacturing company needed a new departmental manager. The salary was $6,000 a year. The officers of the company considered a great many candidates and at last decided to offer the position to a clever young man of unusual business ability. He seemed to be exactly the man for that particular place. The president and general manager invited the young man to lunch with them at a downtown club, ostensibly to talk over a less important business matter. They wanted to "look him over" just once more.

The man met them at the appointed hour, and the president, anxious to make the occasion a pleasant one, ordered an elaborate luncheon. The waiter was a long time in bringing the first course, and the guest began to appear ill at ease. He seemed absentminded and uninterested in the conversation. He twisted about in his chair and tapped his finders nervously upon the table. Finally he turned toward the president and said almost desperately "Would you mind very much if I ordered a cocktail?" Then he flushed a little and offered a laughing apology for making the request.

The other men exchanged surprised and significant glances, but they called the waiter and ordered the cocktail. When it came the guest drank it eagerly. In a few moments he had become another man — the man of keen vision and quick mind, who could be so useful in their great business. There was no more preoccupation in his manner, no shifting about in His chair. He was alert, eager, clear headed.

But as the luncheon went on neither the president nor the manager mentioned the real object of the interview. Each was thinking the matter over seriously, and neither could be sure of the other's secretly formed opinion. The situation became awkward. Finally the president excused himself on the pretense of going into the library to speak to a friend who had just entered. But after speaking to his friend he went straight to the desk and wrote a message on a telegraph blank. He gave the message to a uniformed attendant and went back to the dining room.

In a few minutes a page brought a telegram to the manager, who read it hurriedly, while the president finished telling their guest about a shooting trip in Maine. This is what the telegram said:

The job is too big for a boozer. We can't run our business by cocktail power. — Youth's Companion

—Stevens Point Daily Journal, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, July 29, 1916, page 6.

At 84, He's the Oldest Western Union Messenger "Boy"

1920

IS OLDEST MESSENGER 'BOY'

Snowy Haired "Uncle John" of Luting, Tex., Speeds With Telegrams at Eighty-Four

Luling, Tex. — J. E. Palmer of this city probably enjoys the distinction of being the oldest messenger "boy" in the world. At the age of eighty-four he works for the Western Union from 8 a. m. until 6 p. m., delivering messages from one end of the city to the other.

Palmer was born in Flemingsburg, Ky., January 29, 1832, and fought all through the Civil war.

"Uncle John," as he is better known, came to Caldwell county in 1836. He is snowy haired and slightly bent.



She Was a Movie "Fiend"

Logansport, Ind. — Mrs. Manando McCabe, thirty-eight years old, was declared insane by a commission in Justice Reid's court here. She had been a regular attendant at the moving picture shows, and during the last few weeks has been under the hallucination that she is "Queen of the Movies."



Stole Her Gold Tooth

Bellaire, 0hio — While she was sleeping quietly several nights ago, someone entered Mrs. Russell Gordon's room and took a gold tooth from her mouth, deftly prying it from the crown. Police are looking for one of her boarders.

—The Appleton Daily Post, Appleton, Wisconsin, January 7, 1920, page 3.