MR JOHNSON'S BOARDING HOUSE.

Thames Star, Volume IX, Issue 3037, 8 November 1878, Page 1

MR JOHNSON'S BOARDING HOUSE.

Mr John Johnson, our particular friend, has been boarding for spine time past on Park Ayenue. Mr Jphnsou had been in the habit of sleeping in tunnels (beer) for-the past year or two, and when the proprietors shut down on it he did the next best thing, and got as near as possible to it, and engaged apartments near the Fourth Avenue Tuunell. Mr John Johnson does net drink to excess, he only takes about twenty schooners of brandy a day to keep his spirits up. There is another peculiarity about Mr Johnson—he very.." seldom eats anything. In fact, as he says himself, he does not like food, but only eats to keep himself alive.-' ■ ■■ ,' ■■ .;■ : ■. '■ ■■■■ ■ ■ -

Mr Johnson had been off on one of his semi occasional rackets. During his absence a Southern gentleman arrived at " our boarding-house," and as Mr Johnson was not expected home, the gentleman was put in his room up in the copk-loft. Now that same night John thought that he would try how a bed felt once more before dying, and he wandered home.

After searching all over the front garden for the keyhole, and finally finding it in the door he ascended the stairs, unlocked his bedroom door, disrobed, and got into bed. As be did so he felt something move under him, and he imagined at once that he had 'era. He flew out of bed and struck a light. Then he saw what had moved under him. It was the Southern gentleman.

"What ther (humph) yer doin' in hereP" questioned the irate Mr, Johnson. "I was placed in this room by the landlady and if you don't get out of here in two minutes, Benedict's time, I'll break the cellar floor with you." "I guess (humph) not. If yer (humph) don't git outer here'n shorter time than it takes to say Bob Jackinson when (humph) yer go back home yell go as baggage.

Mr Johnson Squared off at the Southern gentleman, and then, if it hadn't been for the side wall of thflt house, Mr Johnson would have landed On the next block As it was, he broke three or four spokes out of .the bannister aurl created quite a hubbub as ho glided gracefully down stairs in a heap. Then the Southern gentleman slammed the door-and locked it, and Mr Johnson, with nothing on him but atmosphere and an eliminated shirt, was compelled to hug himself all night to keep Warm.

When the scullions of the hash factory arose in the morning John was compelled

to hide his blushes behind his feet. Tho girls looked through their fingers and rushed down stairs screaming. In a few minutes tho whole house was aroused, and the inmates rushed from their rooms. All hands yelled. Mr Johnson's clothes were finally passed out to him, and that morning his night-key hung on a hook outside his door. "Feller can't occupy his (hump) bed 'thout fourteen or fifteen thousand people in it.'tis (hump) time country was turned into monarchy," said Mr Johnstone as he went down town with his wardrobe in a tobacco box. Mr Johnson is now making up with the beer tunnell men again, and in a few days lie will no doubt be found at his accustomed post, making love to the beer peddlern.