Mrs. Robert Johnson, a negro resident of Spring Valley, is a strict disciplinarian When she starts something she generally finishes it; and when Robert. the partner of her joys and sorrows, starts something she likewise holds him to the strictest sort of accountability.

Even the 2,000 souls that comprise Spring Valley and its suburbs couldn’t budge Mrs. Johnson. And as for fire departments. Mrs. Johnson would and did say Pooh ! and Pish !

Late last night a Sabbath serenity pervaded the Johnson menage on KufT street. Robert was playing with the Victrola. Mrs. Johnson was bustling about her housewifely duties. Then Robert broke the Victrola record. Instantly a jarring note appeared in the Sabbath serenity. Mrs. Robert bawled Robert out. Robert reciprocated with unsabbatical vigor.

Robert sped to the kitchen stove and thrust the busted jazz piece into the flames. Being composed of something of an inflammable nature, the busted jazz piece busted into flames. The flames shot up the chimney and set fire to the summer residue of soot reposing there. The chimney started blazing away merrily, to be followed immediately by the adjoining portions of the wooden roof.

Department on the Job

In a trice all Spring Valley was cut. The fire department came on the run.

Fireman Henry Bush ran up the steps of the Johnson household, to be confronted with the massive Afric proportions of Mrs. Johnson.

“What you all want hyah?” queried Mrs. Johnson.

“Don’t cha know there’s a fire on the roof?” panted Henry.

Mrs. Johnson’s answer was a push in the face for Henry.

“You git!” she advised his retreating figure. “This is mah fiah. Mah busban’, Robert johnson, started it, and mah husban’s go ina put it out.’

And, to be sure Robert was worsting along the lines indicated. The beholders beheld him atop the Johnson mansion armed with a pail of Water and a couple of bags of salt, endeavoring to quench the flames.

Henry Bush reported to Chief Furman that diplomatic negotiations with Mrs. Johnson had failed utterly, completely, and from the looks of things, finally.

Chief Furman went right up to the door.

“Looka here.” he said to Mrs. Johnson. “do you want this fire department to put out that fiie, or do you want your goshdarned old house to burn t’ the ground?”

Holds to Original Position

Mrs. Johnson assumed the first position for the delivery of a right uppercut.

“Whut Ah said Ah meant,” she decreed. “Ah said Robert Johnson started that fiah, and Robert Johnson is agonta put it out. Now, is you prepahed to deny that statement?”

The Chief perceived that Robert had won his battle with he flames, so he decided to let w e. a. He did an about face.

“Ah guess you all bettah,” triumphed Mrs. Johnson from the doorway. “Ah guess Ah ain’t gonna have no _____ clutterin’ up mah house, squirtin’ watan all oveh and droppin’ cindahs round in about.”

Mr. Johnson came downstairs at this pmnt and saw that something should be done to placate Spring Valley officialdom.

“When that woman gets goin’,” he said to Chief Furman, “who’s gonta make huh stop?”

Up to the hour of going to press the Chief had not been able to answer Mr. Johnson.—The (N. Y.) Sun.

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