When the road gang began work on Van Dyke Avenue, Charley Vollmer told Frank Manning: "Anything you want, just go in the house and ask for it." Which was very nice of Charley -- except that he forgot to tell Frank about the new police pup, a genuine police dog purchased in Chicago and recently returned home after an eight-months course in a New Jersey police school under a former German army captain.
It was one of the laborers of smaller build who found out about the dog when he entered the grounds Tuesday morning. There was a sharp "woof" from the dog and the invader became panic stricken. He kicked viciously and that was the signal for action for the dog, trained to hold at bay any intruder until help arrived. Without biting he managed to strop the laborer's jeans and when the household help arrived she was startled to see what appeared to be the beginning of a Nudist colony in the garden.
Of course the victim had to have a pair of pants and that meant a job for Jake (Charley's brother, who is vacationing here after 24 years guarding in Sing Sing) who proceeded upstairs and brought down his best white trousers that he wears when nobody from Amsterdam is looking at him. Clad in that ritzy garb, the roadman joined his companions and the razzing made him suffer worse than the pup had. Back into the house he went and appeared a short time later in a pair of Charley's pants, rolled up at the bottom and muchly pleated at the top. He didn't have a fit on the second attempt, either, but the onlookers did.
All of which may not be so much of a story, but it should be a tip to our small town racketeers who may be considering an entrance to the Vollmer home in the near future. A pair of shorts should be carried along on the job -- to be put on just outside the garden fence. Freda may be gentle enough to play with the kids in the neighborhood, but she doesn't like intruders wearing long jeans.
OLD ARMY GAME
The entire country is so upside down that it really doesn't matter, I suppose. But it did seem strange to see the flag on the Armory flown upside down Tuesday. Under any other circumstances I wouldn't dare mention anything about the correct display of the colors. Every other time I have done it, someone has dropped around to the office with a book of regulations showing me that what I don't know about the regulations is plenty. Perhaps the boys at the Armory can show us the section and paragraph that justified the topsy-turvy display. If it can be done, I'm ready to stand corrected.
THEY SETTLED IT
It certainly was strange how the light bill for the law offices of W. Fenton Myers and Dudley L. Moore continued so high. Neither attorney had been coming down nights for several months, and still the electricity charge continued to come in at an exorbitant rate. Complaints were made, but investigations offered no clues as to the trouble. The meter reading failed to jibe with the light bill, and that offered more complications. How could there be a charge with the meter at a standstill?
When the matter was finally ironed out, many were wiser and some were sadder. It developed that part of the light used by Surrogate Aulisi in the offices to the rear was being measured by the Myers and Moore meter -- and had been for many moons past. The Surrogate being a man who burns the midnight oil (along with his neighbors' electricity) the bill was considerably larger than might ordinarily have been expected. While I didn't hear the details of settlement, it is unlikely that these legal gentlemen will go to law about it. Good Kiwanians all, the shedding of light on the mystery was worth the investment -- no matter whose meter the juice went through.
And, truth to tell, there are times when even you and I look at our light and gas bills and wonder if we aren't our brother's keeper. Isn't it so?
THEY FINALLY WON
Had the Zion Brotherhood softball team secured the services of Archie Griswold at the beginning of the season, the team that finished at the bottom of the City League might have done a lot better. With their new star at the Brotherhoods started a road tour that led to their crossing bats with the Friedens of Schenectady Monday evening and Archie featured in a 29 to 4 victory. (Phooey on you scoffers who said these boys would never find anyone they could beat.) Not only that, but Archie also distinguished himself at the hot dog and corn roast, running second to the scholastic champ, Buster Schure, who is so good that any clambake committees selling him a ticket for less than $3 would find themselves stuck at the end of the day.
This one strikes me as unusually funny, but stop me if you have heard it before. It concerns a fellow who had just finished a meal in one of those Help Yourself places. He walked up to the cashier's desk and threw down a dollar bill.
"How much?" asked the cashier.
"Two bits," he replied.
"How much?" repeated the cashier, seemingly puzzled by the unusual expression.
Just as he was about to answer again, he felt a tap on the shoulder.
"One buck-correct," he said after swallowing hard. He turned to face the man next in line.
"Gotta match?" the other asked.
This was first published August 23, 1934.