Chapter 1

"Help!"

A burly fisherman sauntered to his side.

"Wot's up?" he asked.

"There!" hoarsely cried the young man. "My wife! Drowning! I can't swim! A hundred dollars for you if you can save her."

In a moment the burly fisherman was in the sea. In another he was out of it, with the rescued lady bather. Thanking his lucky stars, he approached the young man again.

"Well, what about the hundred bones?" he asked.

But if the young man's face had been ashen gray before, now it was dead white, as he gazed upon the features of the recovered dame.

"Y-e-s, I know!" he gasped. "But when I made the offer I thought it was my wife who was drowning; and now--now it turns out it was my wife's mother!"

The burly fisherman pulled a long face. "Just my luck!" he muttered, thrusting his hand into his trousers pocket. "How much do I owe you?"

"Is your wife's mother enjoying her trip to the mountains?" "I'm afraid not. She's found something at last that she can't walk over."

MOVING PICTURES

A recent movie comedy showed on the screen a bevy of shapely girls disrobing for a plunge in the "old swimming-pool." They had just taken off shoes, hats, coats and were beginning on--a passing freight-train dashed across the screen and obscured the view. When it had passed, the girls were frolicking in the water.

An old railroader sat through the show again and again. At length an usher tapped him on the shoulder.

"Aren't you ever going home?" he asked.

"Oh, I'll wait a while," was the answer. "One of these times that train's going to be late."

"Didn't anybody criticise you for filming an automobile in ancient Babylon?"

"No. But I had a dozen letters calling my attention to the fact that the car showed a California license tag."

Moving day comes on May 1st, but every day in the year is movie day.

SLAPSTICK DIRECTOR--"Can't you suggest a novel from which we could adapt a comedy?"

COMEDIAN--"My memory isn't very accurate, but isn't there a book called 'Alice Threw the Looking-glass'?"

MOVIE OPERATOR--"What shall I do with this film? There is a tear in it that cuts right through the hero's nose!"

CLEVER MANAGER--"Ha! just the thing! Bill it as a feature in two parts."

PROMOTER--"I have here a scheme for revamping old films."

MANAGER--"Beat it! I'm too busy refilming old vamps."

An old couple from the country wandered into a moving picture show in town. As they entered a cow-boy picture was being shown.

The old lady laid a restraining hand on her husband's arm.

"Bill," she said, "let's not go too far down in front; the dust those horses are kickin' up is somethin' awful. My clothes'll be ruined!"

"Here's another book on _How to Get into the Movies_."

"Why on earth doesn't somebody write a book on how to get a seat after you do get in?"

Mr. and Mrs. Todd were debating whether the movie they had just seen was a new or old production.

"The leading woman wore two or three gowns that are very much in vogue," Mrs. Todd reminded her husband.

He remained firm, however.

"There wasn't any excitement when the cocktails were served," he said.

"I can," said the bashful young man to the director of the film company, "swim, dive, run an auto, fly an aeroplane, fence, box, shoot, ride a horse, run a motor-boat, play golf, fight, make love, fall off cliffs, rescue heroines, play football, die naturally, and kiss a girl."

"But," interrupted the famous director, "can you _act_?"

"Alas!" muttered the would-be screen hero, "I never thought of _that_."

"Engaged," growled the director, and another screen star was born.--_Life_.

_See also_ Actors and actresses; Advertising; Signs.

MULES

"Is you gwine ter let dat mewel do as he pleases?" asked Uncle Ephraim's wife.

"Wha's you will-power?"

"My will-power's all right" he answered "You jes' want ter come out hyar an' measure dis mewel's won't power."

Somewhere in France a tall negro dough-boy was trying to pull to his feet a mule who persisted obstinately in sitting down. The darkey tugged and strained but the mule remained obdurate. Finally the man desisted and glaring at the mule, remarked "As you were, mule, as you were."

"What's become of your chauffeur?"

"Oh, he was with the regiment down in Texas and crawled under an army mule to see why it wouldn't go."

"Some men," said Uncle Eben, "put in der lives kickin' at nothin'. Bar's dis much to be said foh de mule. If he's interested enough to kick, he's willin' to go to de trouble of takin' aim."

"_Love's Labor Lost_"

Luke had been sent to the store with the mule and wagon. What happened is told in Luke's end of the conversation over the telephone from the store.

"Gimme seb'n-'leben.

"Gimme dat number quick, please 'm.

"Dis yer's Luke, suh.

"Dis yer's Luke, I say, suh.

"I tuk de wagon to de sto' fo dat truck.

"Yas, suh, I'm at de sto'.

"Dat mule, she balk, suh.

"She's balkin' in de big road, near de sto'.

"No, suh, she ain' move.

"No, suh, I don' think she's gwine move.

"Yas, suh, I beat 'er.

"I did beat 'er good.

"She's jes' r'ar a li'l bit, suh.

"Yas, suh, she kick, too.

"She jes' bus' de whiffletree li'l bit, suh.

"No, suh, dat mule won't lead.

"Yas, suh, I tried it.

"No, suh, jes' bit _at_ me.

"No, suh, I ain't tickle de laigs.

"I tickle um las' year, suh, once.

"Yas, suh, we twis' 'er tail.

"No, suh, I ain' done it.

"Who done it?

"I t'ink he's li'l travelin' man f'um Boston, suh. He twis' 'er tail.

_"Yas, suh! She sho' did!_

"Right spang in de face, suh.

"Dey's got 'im at de sto'.

"Dey say he's comin' to, suh.

"I don' know--he do look mighty sleepy to me, suh.

"Yas, suh, we tried dat.

"Yas, suh, we built a fire under 'er.

"No, suh, dat ain' make 'er go.

"She jes' move up li'l bit, suh.

"Yas, suh, de wagon bu'n right up. Dat's whut I'm telephonin' yu 'bout--to ast yu please sen' a wagon to hitch up to dis yer mule. She ain' gwine budge lessen she's hitched up. Good-by, suh."

Ephum Johnson was up before Judge Shimmerplate on a cruelty to animals charge.

"Deed Ah wasn't abusing dat mule, judge," the old man demurred.

"Did you not strike it repeatedly with a club?"

"Yassah."

"And do you not know that you can accomplish more with animals by speaking to them?"

"Yassah; but this critter am different. He am so deef he can't hear me when Ah speaks to him in de usual way, so Ah has to communicate wid him in de sign language."

On mules we find two legs behind And two we find before; We stand behind before we find What the two behind stand for!

A teacher was instructing a class in English and called on a small boy named Jimmy Brown.

"James," she said, "write on the board, 'Richard can ride the mule if he wants to.'"

"Now," continued the teacher when Jimmy had finished writing, "can you find a better form for that sentence?"

"Yes, ma'am, I think I can," was the prompt answer. "'Richard can ride the mule if the mule wants him to.'"

A mule-skinner in France was trying to drive a mule, with a wagon load, through a hospital gate. The mule would do anything but pass through the gate.

"Want any 'elp, chum?" shouted one of the hospital orderlies.

"No," replied the driver; "but I'd like to know how Noah got two of these blighters into the Ark!"

"Why don't you get rid of that mule?" asked one Virginia darky of another.

"Well, yo' see, Jim," replied the other, "I hates to give in. Ef I was to trade dat mule off he'd regard it as a pussunal victory. He's been tryin' fo' de last six weeks to get rid of me."

MUSHROOMS

Johnny Jones, you know, was studying botany, and he declared that he had an infallible way to tell the difference between mushrooms and toadstools.

"When you git vi'lent spasms," said little Johnny, "with cramps, swelling of the feet and partial loss of vision ending in insanity and death--then it ain't mushrooms."

MUSIC

HE--"Most girls, I have found, don't appreciate real music."

SECOND HE--"Why do you say that?"

HE--"Well, you may pick beautiful strains on a mandolin for an hour, and she won't even look out of the window, but just one honk of a horn and--out she comes!"

Music is the language of the soul; jazz is its profanity.

"How do you sell your music?"

"We sell piano music by the pound and organ music by the choir."

"Samantha, what's thet chune the orchestry's a-playin' now?"

"The program says its 'Choppin', Hiram."

"Waal--mebbe--but ter me it sounds a deal more like sawin'."

While Chopin probably did not time his "Minute Waltz" to exactly sixty seconds, some auditors insist that it lives up to its name. Mme. Theodora Surkow-Ryder on one of her tours played the "Minute Waltz" as an encore, first telling her audience what it was. Thereupon a huge man in a large riding suit took out an immense silver watch, held it open almost under her nose, and gravely proceeded to time her. The pianist's fingers flew along the keys, and her anxiety was rewarded when the man closed the watch with a loud slap and said in a booming voice: "Gosh! She's done it."

MRS. NEWRICHE--"I believe our next-door neighbors on the right are as poor as church mice, Hiram."

MR. NEWRICHE--"What makes you think so?"

MRS. NEWRICHE--"Why, they can't afford one of them mechanical piano-players; the daughter is taking lessons by hand."--_Puck_.

MUSICIANS

"Excuse me," said the detective as he presented himself at the door of the music academy, "but I hope you'll give me what information you have, and not make any fuss."

"What do you mean?" was the indignant inquiry.

"Why, you see, we got a tip from the house next door that somebody was murdering Wagner, and the chief sent me down here to work on the case."

Pianist Rachmaninoff told in his New York flat the other day a story about his boyhood.

"When I was a very little fellow," he said, "I played at a reception at a Russian count's, and, for an urchin of seven, I flatter myself that I swung through Beethoven's 'Kreutzer Sonata' pretty successfully.

"The 'Kreutzer,' you know, has in it several long and impressive rests. Well, in one of these rests the count's wife, a motherly old lady, leaned forward, patted me on the shoulder, and said:

"'Play us something you know, dear.'"

There was nobody who could play the violin like Smifkins--at least so he thought--and he was delighted when he was asked to play at a local function.

"Sir," he said to the host, "the instrument I shall use at your gathering is over two hundred years old."

"Oh, that's all right! Never mind," returned the host; "no one will ever know the difference."

MUSICAL STUDENT--"That piece you just played is by Mozart, isn't it?"

HURDY-GURDY MAN--"No, by Handel."

When Paderewski was on his last visit to America he was in a Boston suburb, when he was approached by a bootblack who called:

"Shine?"

The great pianist looked down at the youth whose face was streaked with grime and said:

"No, my lad, but if you will wash your face I will give you a quarter."

"All right!" exclaimed the youth, who forthwith ran to a neighboring trough and made his ablutions.

When he returned Paderewski held out the quarter, which the boy took but immediately handed back, saying:

"Here, Mister, you take it yourself and get your hair cut."

NAMES, PERSONAL

"Why do you call the baby Bill?"

"He was born on the first of the month."

In an Ohio town is a colored man whose last name is Washington.

Heaven has blest him with three sons.

When the first son arrived the father named him George Washington. In due time the second son came. Naturally he was christened Booker Washington. When the third man child was born his parent was at a loss, at first, for a name for him. Finally tho, he hit on a suitable selection.

The third son, if he lives, will go through life as Spokane Washington.

Aunt Lindy had brought around her three grandchildren for her mistress to see. The three little darkies, in calico smocks, stood squirming in line while Lindy proudly surveyed them.

"What are their names, Lindy?" her mistress asked.

"Dey's name' after flowers, ma'am. Ah name' 'em. De bigges' one's name' Gladiola. De nex' one, she name' Heliotrope."

"Those are very pretty," her mistress said. "What is the littlest one named?"

"She name' Artuhficial, ma'am."

William Williams hated nicknames. He used to say that most fine given names were ruined by abbreviations, which was a sin and a shame. "I myself," he said, "am one of six brothers. We were all given good, old-fashioned Christian names, but all those names were shortened into meaningless or feeble monosyllables by our friends. I shall name my children so that it will be impracticable to curtail their names."

The Williams family, in the course of time, was blessed with five children, all boys. The eldest was named after the father--William. Of course, that would be shortened to "Will" or enfeebled to "Willie"--but wait! A second son came and was christened Willard. "Aha!" chuckled Mr. Williams. "Now everybody will have to speak the full names of each of these boys in order to distinguish them."

In pursuance of this scheme the next three sons were named Wilbert, Wilfred, and Wilmont.

They are all big boys now. And they are respectively known to their intimates as Bill, Skinny, Butch, Chuck, and Kid.

Aunt Liza's former mistress was talking to her one morning, when suddenly she discovered a little pickaninny standing shyly behind his mother's skirts. "Is this your little boy, Aunt Liza?" she asked.

"Yes, miss; dat's Prescription."

"Goodness, what a funny name, auntie, for a child! How in the world did you happen to call him that?"

"Ah simply calls him dat becuz Ah has sech hahd wuk gettin' him filled."

BREATHLESS VISITOR--"Doctor, can you help me? My name is Jones--"

DOCTOR--"No, I'm sorry; I simply can't do anything for that."

A chauffeur had applied for a position with a new-rich family which aspired to be considered "top-notch" socially, and was being interviewed by the mistress of the house.

"We call all our servants by their last names," she announced. "What is your last name?"

"You had best call me Thomas, ma'am," replied the applicant.

"No, we insist that you be willing to be called by your last name. Otherwise you won't do at all."

"Oh, I'm willing, ma'am, but I don't think the family would like to use it."

"What is your last name then?" said his prospective employer, somewhat coldly and as though she expected a revelation of international scandal.

"Darling, ma'am--Thomas Darling."

A little colored girl, a newcomer in Sunday-school, gave her name to the teacher as "Fertilizer Johnson." Later the teacher asked the child's mother if that was right.

"Yes, ma'am, dat's her name," said the fond parent. "You see, she was named fer me and her father. Her father's name am Ferdinand and my name is Liza. So we named her Fertilizer."

LITTLE JOHNNY--"Dad, there's a girl at our school whom we call Postscript."

DAD--"Postscript? What do you call her Postscript for?"

LITTLE JOHNNY--"Cos her name is Adeline Moore."

GRIGGS--"When I don't catch the name of the person I've been introduced to, I ask if it's spelled with an 'e' or an 'i.' It generally works, too."

BRIGGS--"I used to try that dodge myself until I was introduced to a young lady at a party. When I put the question about the 'e' or 'i,' she flushed angrily and wouldn't speak to me the whole evening."

"What was her name?"

"I found out later it was--Hill."

FIRST LITTLE GIRL--"What's your last name, Annie?"

SECOND LITTLE GIRL--"Don't know yet; I ain't married."

"Spell your name!" said the court clerk sharply. The witness began: "O double T, I, double U, E, double L, double--"

"Begin again! begin again!" ordered the clerk.

The witness repeated: "O, double T, I, double U, E, double L, double U, double O--"

"Your honor," roared the clerk, "I beg that this man be committed for contempt of court!"

"What is your name?" asked the judge.

"My name, your honor, is Ottiwell Wood, and I spell it O, double T, I, double U, E, double L, double U, double O, D."--_Literary Digest_.

"Is Mr. Smith in the audience?" broke forth the presiding officer. "I am informed that his house is afire."

Forty men sprang to their feet.

"It is the house of Mr. John Smith," added the chairman.

"Thank goodness!" fervently exclaimed one man, resuming his seat.--_Everybody's_.

NATIONALITY

"But are you an American citizen?" angrily demanded the official at the passport office.

"My mother was American"--began the applicant.

"Yes, yes"--

"But she married a Frenchman"--

"Yes."

"In Italy."

"Yes; but where were you born?"

"I was born on a ship flying Spanish colors while she was lying at anchor in Honolulu Harbor, but my parents died in Brazil when I was only four years old and I was adopted by a Chinaman, who brought me up in Russia"--

"Well, he's"--began an official.

"He's a bloomin' League of Nations!" exploded the official who had first spoken.

NATURAL LAWS

CHARLIE--"What you say just goes in one ear and out the other."

JOHNNY--"Impossible!"

"Why?"

"Sound can't cross a vacuum, you know, old fellow."

"Say, dad, what keeps us from falling off the earth when we are upside down?"

"Why, the law of gravity, of course."

"Well, how did folks stay on before the law was passed?"

NEGROES

Miss Annette Benton, on returning from a visit, brought a gift to each of her mother's colored servants. It was the "day out" for Lily, the housemaid, so Annette distributed her gifts, reserving for Lily a scarlet-silk blouse.

"That won't do," said Mrs. Benton. "Lily's in mourning."

"Mourning?"

"Yes, for her husband; he died in jail, and Lily's wearing a long crape veil."

When Lily returned, her young mistress expressed regret. "I'll give the blouse to Lizzie," she said, "and get you something else."

Lily looked at the blouse, then she swallowed. "Don't you give that blouse to no Lizzie, Miss Annette, cos nex' mont' I'se gwine outa mournin' from the waist up."--_Harper's_.

"G'wan, nigger, you-all ain't got no sense nohow."

"Ain't got no sense? Whut's dis yere haid for?"

"Dat thing? Dat ain't no haid, nigger; dat's jes er button on top er yo body ter keep yer backbone from unravelin'."

OLD DARKY (to shiftless son)--"I hearn tell you is married. Is you?"

SON (ingratiatingly)--"I ain't sayin' I ain't."

OLD DARKY (severely)--"I ain't ask you is you ain't; I ask you ain't you is."

PARSON BLACK (sternly)--"Did you come by dat watehmelyun honestly, Bruddeh Bingy?"

THE MELON TOTER--"'Deed I did, pahson; ebry day fo' nigh on two weeks!"--_Puck_.

A Minneapolis laundress, a negro woman, patriotic supporter of the Red Cross, was among the thousands who witnessed a recent Red Cross parade in the Mill City in which fifteen thousand white-clad women participated. In telling a Red Cross worker how she liked it, she said:

"Lawdy, missus, it suttinly was a gran' spectacle. Nevah in mah whole life did I see so much washin' at one time."

"Why is it, Sam, that one never hears of a darky committing suicide?" inquired the Northerner.

"Well, you see, it's disaway, boss: When a white pusson has any trouble he sets down an' gits to studyin' 'bout it an' a-worryin'. Then firs' thing you know he's done killed hisse'f. But when a nigger sets down to think 'bout his troubles, why, he jes' natcherly goes to sleep!"--_Life_.

"No, sah," said the aged colored man to the reporter who'd asked if he had ever seen President Lincoln. "Ah used to 'member seein' Massa Linkum, but since Ah j'ined de church Ah doan 'member seein' him no mo'."

A Psychiatric Board was testing the mentality of a thick-lipped, weak-faced Negro soldier. Among other questions, the specialist asked, "Do you ever hear voices without being able to tell who is speaking, or where the sound comes from?"

"Yes, suh," answered the negro.

"When does this occur?"

"When I'se talkin' over de telephone."

An Alabama darky, who prided himself on being able to play any tune on the banjo after he had heard it once, perched himself on the side of a hill one Sunday morning and began to pick the strings in a workman-like manner.

It chanced that the minister came along. Going up to Moses, he demanded harshly, "Moses, do you know the Ten Commandments?"

Moses scratched his chin for a moment, and then, in an equally harsh voice, said:

"Parson, yo' don't think yo' kin beat me do yo'? Jest yo' whistle the first three or four bars, an' I'll have a try at it."--_Harper's_.

One day Miss Maria Thompson Daviess, the author, walked down a street in Nashville. The street was crowded with Negroes, who were forming in a line for a parade.

"What's the occasion for the parade, Tom?" she asked of a boy.

The boy looked at her with a grin.

"La, Miss Daviess," he replied, "don' you-all know colored folks well 'nough to know dat dey don' need no 'casion foh a p'rade?"

An old doctor was making a call on a colored family. While talking to the patient he was continually interrupted by a crying baby, which sat on the floor and grumbled and whined continually. Finally, the mother picked the child up.

"Auntie," said the doctor, "your baby seems badly spoiled."

"No, suh! No, suh!" remonstrated the mother. "All little cullud babies smell dat way!"

_See also_ Chicken stealing.

NEIGHBORS

"But I don't know you, madam," the bank cashier said to the woman who had presented a check.

The woman, however, instead of saying haughtily, "I do not wish your acquaintance, sir," merely replied, with an engaging smile:

"Oh, yes, you do, I think. I'm the 'red-headed old virago' next door to you, whose scoundrelly little boys are always reaching through the fence and picking your flowers. When you started for town this morning your wife said: 'Now, Henry, if you want a dinner fit to eat this evening you'll have to leave me a little money. I can't keep this house on plain water and sixpence a day.'"

Christianity teaches us to love our neighbor as ourself; modern society acknowledges no neighbor.--_Beaconsfield_.

"I'm quite a near neighbor of yours now," said Mr. Bore.

"I'm living just across the river."

"Indeed," replied Miss Smart. "I hope you'll drop in some day."

NEW JERSEY

Misunderstandings with New Jersey people are sure to result if visitors mistake chicken wire for mosquito netting.

NEW YORK CITY

Mr. Edmund Hornung was in New York several days over Sunday.

That's where they travel fast, I'm telling you.

SILAS (in a whisper)--"Did you git a peep at the underworld at all while you wuz in New York, Ezry?"

EZRA--"Three times! Subway twice an' ratscellar once."

"I see New York did considerable begging for one of those reserve banks."

"What of it?"

"Oh, nothing, New York used to dictate."

CUBIST TEACHER--"Can anyone give an impressionistic definition of New York?"

BRIGHT PUPIL--"A small body of limousines almost entirely surrounded by Fords."

FIRST SOUTHERNER--"Were you in New York long enough to feel at home?"

SECOND SOUTHERNER--"Yes, sir; why, I got so I could keep my seat in the cars with a lady standing and not even think about it."

An Ohio newspaper editor spent a few days in New York, and while there somebody asked him how he liked the big town.

"I care for it very little," replied the editor. "Did you ever think of this: Suppose you lived in New York and wanted to go fishing. Where would you go to dig a can of worms?"

"I hear you want a room clerk."

"No, we never have any rooms. What we want is a clerk who can satisfy people in assigning them to billiard tables, telephone booths and cots in the halls."

The surging crowd along Broadway Was stirred so strangely yesterday. It stood on tiptoe, eyes aglow, It stared, and turned to whisper low Of wonders such as seldom pass That way. What swayed the living mass? What marvel from the fabled isles That drew the eye from Paris styles? A street car left the track perhaps? Two bootblacks nabbed for shooting craps? A fire to call the engines out? A skidding auto turned about? A homebrew Bacchus' raisin dance? At these perhaps the crowd would glance But never act like this at all. Amazed, I asked a copper tall And broad, and heard at last; A horse and buggy just went past.

--_Roland D. Johnson_.

An English novelist took his first look at Broadway aflame with light. He read the flashing and leaping signs and said: "How much more wonderful it would be for a man who couldn't read."

UNCLE EZRA--"Eph Hoskins must have had some time down in New York."

UNCLE EBEN--"Yep. Reckon he traveled a mighty swift pace. Eph's wife said that when Eph got back and went into his room he looked at the bed, kicked it, and said, 'What's that darn thing for?"--_Judge_.

After Mark Twain had been in New York for five years, he wrote to his folks back home that he was the loneliest man in the world!

"What!" exclaimed his people, "in New York _and lonely_!"

"Yes," wrote Mark; "I'm the only man in this town that doesn't touch a drop."

TEACHER--"Do you know the population of New York?"

MAMIE BACKROW--"Not all of them, ma'am, but then, we've only lived here two years."--_Puck_.

NEWSBOYS

NEWSBOY--"Great mystery! Fifty victims! Paper, mister?"

PASSER-BY--"Here, boy, I'll take one." (After reading a moment.) "Say, boy, there's nothing of the kind in this paper. Where is it?"

NEWSBOY--"That's the mystery, guvnor. You're the fifty-first victim."

NEWSPAPERS

APPLICANT--"I'm ready to begin at the bottom, sir."

NEWSPAPER PROPRIETOR--"Well, what's your idea?"

"To start first with the leading editorials and gradually work myself up to the sporting page."

"Never state as a fact anything you are not certain about," the great editor warned the new reporter, "or you will get us into libel suits. In such cases use the words, 'alleged,' 'claimed,' 'reputed,' 'rumored,' and so on."

And then this paragraph appeared in the society notes of the paper:

"It is rumored that a card party was given yesterday by a number of reputed ladies. Mrs. Smith, gossip says, was hostess. It is alleged that the guests with the exception of Mrs. Bellinger, who says she hails from Leavitt's Junction, were all from here. Mrs. Smith claims to be the wife of Archibald Smith, the so-called 'Honest Man' trading on Key Street."

And when the editor had read the report a whirling mass claiming to be the reporter was projected through the window and struck the street with a dull thud.

REPORTER--"Madam, you may recollect that we printed yesterday your denial of having retracted the contradiction of your original statement. Would you care to have us say that you were misquoted in regard to it."--_Life_.

As any reporter will tell you, the only place in a newspaper office where real toil is done is the city room. Imagine our pleasure when we overheard one of the office boys saying: "When I first came here I thought it was called the 'sitting room.' I said something about the sitting room one day to the city editor, and I thought he was going to throw me down the elevator shaft."

"Can you make anything out of the news from Europe?"

"Easiest thing in the world. I only read the newspapers every other day. In this way I get a connected story of our side or the other and avoid the denials."--_Puck_.

ENGLISH NEWSIE (selling extras)--"Better 'ave one and read about it now, sir; it might be contradicted in the morning."--_Punch_.

The reporter was sent to write up a charity ball. His copy came in late and it was careless. The editor reproved him the next day by quoting an extract:

"Look here, Scribbler, what do you mean by this, 'Among the most beautiful girls was Alderman Horatio Dingley'? Old Dingley ain't a girl, you idiot! He's one of our principal shareholders."

"I can't help that," returned the realistic reporter, "that's where he was."

When Earth's last paper is finished and the type is scrambled and pied, When the roar of the press becomes fainter and sheets are folded and dried; We shall rest, and Faith, we shall need it, for the way has been weary and long, And oft have we heard that chestnut, "Young man, you have quoted me wrong."

The cub reporter was grinding out a marriage notice. Finally he brought it up and laid it on the city editor's desk:

"Mr. and Mrs. Blank announce today the marriage of their daughter to take place next Monday--"

"Huh," grunted the editor, "you can't say they announced a marriage yet to take place."

Again the cub jabbed away at his typewriter. And when he brought it back this time it read:

"Mr. and Mrs. Blank predicted today the marriage of their daughter."

"How many revolutions does the earth make in a day? It's your turn, Willie Smith."

"You can't tell, teacher, till you see the morning paper."

_See also_ Editors.

"NO"

No is one of the smallest words in the English language, and yet--

It has brought about more heartaches than the war.

It has caused more children to shed tears than all the spankings in the world put together.

It has saved more money for individuals with backbone than a year's output of padlocks.

It has made itself Prohibition's greatest aid.

It has killed genius and thwarted ambition. It has turned love into hate and success into failure.

It has kept kings off thrones and poets out of Arcadia.

It has caused good men to tremble and scoundrels to rejoice.

Will it ever make a change for the better?

No.

NOTHING

Mysterious Nothing! how shall I define Thy shapeless, baseless, placeless emptiness? Nor form, nor colour, sound, nor size is thine, Nor words nor fingers can thy voice express; But though we cannot thee to aught compare, A thousand things to thee may likened be, And though thou art with nobody nowhere, Yet half mankind devote themselves to thee. How many books thy history contain; How many heads thy mighty plans pursue; What labouring hands thy portion only gain; What busy bodies thy doings only do! To thee the great, the proud, the giddy bend, And--like my sonnet--all in nothing end.

--_Richard Parson_.

NURSES

FREDDIE--"Are you the trained nurse mama said was coming?"

NURSE--"Yes, dear; I'm the trained nurse."

FREDDIE--"Let's see some of your tricks, then!"

OBEDIENCE

A certain woman demands instant and unquestioning obedience from her children. One afternoon a storm came up and she sent her little son John to close the trap leading to the flat roof of the house.

"But mother," began John.

"John, I told you to shut the trap."

"Yes, but mother--"

"John, shut that trap."

"All right, mother, if you say so--but--"

"John!"

Whereupon John slowly climbed the stairs and shut the trap. Two hours later the family gathered for dinner, but Aunt Mary, who was staying with the mother, did not appear. The mother, quite anxious, exclaimed, "Where can Aunt Mary be?"

"I know," John answered triumphantly, "she is on the roof."

OBESITY

_See_ Corpulence.

OBITUARIES

Upon the recent death in a Western town of a politician, who, at one time, served his country in a very high legislative place, a number of newspaper men were collaborating on an obituary notice.

"What shall we say of the former Senator?" asked one of the men.

"Oh, just put down that he was always faithful to his trust."

"And," queried a cynical member of the group, "shall we mention the name of the trust?"--_Puck_.

_See also_ Epitaphs.

OCCUPATIONS

PAPA--"But hasn't your fiancé got a job?"

DAUGHTER--"Not yet, but he's going to get one at $25,000 a year."

PAPA--"Indeed! Glad to hear of it! What is he doing?"

DAUGHTER--"Well, he read in the paper of some man who is paid $50,000 a year by the Bankers' Association not to forge checks, and George is going to do it for half that."

THE COP--"The driver of a hearse asked me just now which was the way to the cemetery, and I told him."

THE CAPTAIN--"Don't do it again. You're being paid as a policeman, not as a funeral director."

"What are you going to make of your son Charley?" I asked.

"Well," replied Charley's father, "I made a doctor of Bob, a lawyer of Ralph, and a minister of Bert; and Joe is a literary man. I think I'll make a laboring man of Charley. I want one of them to have a little money."--_Life_.

_The Other Fellow's Job_

I seldom quarrel with the universe; Things could be better, could be better far. But, on the other hand, they could be worse-- And so I rather leave them as they are.

But one thing though, could easily be done: If Bill could only make a trade with Bob The world would be so glad--if everyone Could only have the other fellow's job!

The other fellow surely has a snap! If at a desk he works, he needn't roam, He needn't wander up and down the map-- He knows the joy and comfort of a home.

Or if the other fellow something sells Upon the road, a lucky man is he-- To see the country, live at good hotels, And have a job with some variety.

The other fellow!--luckiest of men!-- Here's where creation surely made a slip: The fellow on the road should push a pen, The fellow at a desk should tote a grip.

We never shall be happy, truly glad, We never shall be really comforted, Until we trade the job we've always had And get the other fellow's job instead.

I see no other way to do--unless We might do this: Forget a little while The easy jobs that other men possess, Get busy with your own, and with a smile.

For after all, they're not so different: Each has its time of laughter and of sob, But each the joy of service. Be content-- Your job's as good as any fellow's job.

MISTRESS (to butler)--"Why is it, John, every time I come home I find you sleeping?"

"Well, ma'am, it's this way: I don't like to be a-doing _nothing_."

LAZY MIKE--"I have a new position with the railroad company."

WEARY RHODES--"What ja gona do?"

LAZY MIKE--"You know the fellow that goes alongside the train and taps the axles to see if everything's all right? Well, I help him listen."

OCEAN TRAVEL

"Terribly rough, isn't it?" said the stranger on the ocean liner.

"Wal," replied the man from the farm, "'twouldn't be so rough if the cap'n would only keep in the furrows!"

The storm was increasing in violence and some of the deck fittings had already been swept overboard when the captain decided to send up a signal of distress. But hardly had the rocket burst over the ship when a solemn-faced passenger stepped on to the bridge. "Captain," he said, "I'd be the last man on earth to cast a damper on any man, but it seems to me that this is no time for letting off fireworks."

PASSENGER (after first night on board ship)--"I say, where have all my clothes vanished to?"

STEWARD--"Where did you put them last night?"

PASSENGER--"I folded them up carefully and put them in that cupboard over there."

STEWARD--"I see no cupboard, sir."

PASSENGER--"Are you blind, man? I mean that one with the round glass door to it."

STEWARD--"Lor' bless me, sir; that ain't no cupboard. That's the porthole."

OFFICE BOYS

Boss--"Can't you find something to do?"

OFFICE BOY--"Gee whiz: Am I expected to do the work and find it, too?"

A certain prominent lawyer of Toronto is in the habit of lecturing his office staff from the junior partner down, and Tommy, the office boy, comes in for his full share of the admonition. That his words were appreciated was made evident to the lawyer by a conversation between Tommy and another office boy on the same floor, which he recently overheard.

"Wotcher wages?" asked the other boy.

"Ten thousand a year," replied Tommy.

"Aw, g'wan!"

"Sure," insisted Tommy, unabashed. "Four dollars a week in cash an' de rest in legal advice."

"I can't keep the visitors from coming up," said the office boy, dejectedly, to the president. "When I say you're out they simply say they must see you."

"Well," said the president, "just tell them that's what they all say."

That afternoon there called at the office a young lady. The boy assured her it was impossible to see the president.

"But I'm his wife," said the lady.

"Oh, that's what they all say," said the boy.

Into the office of a business man rushed a bright faced lad. For three minutes he waited and then began, to show signs of impatience.

"Excuse me, sir," he said at length, "I'm in a hurry."

"Well, what do you want?" asked the business man.

"A job!"

"But why the hurry?"

"Got to hurry," replied the lad briefly. "Left school yesterday, and haven't struck anything suitable yet. The only place where I can stay long is where they pay me for it."

"How much do you want?"

"Fifteen dollars a week for a start."

"And when can you come?"

"Don't need to come; I'm here. I could have been at work five minutes ago if you'd only said so."

BOSS (to new boy)--"You're the slowest youngster we've ever had. Aren't you quick at anything?"

BOY--"Yes, sir; nobody can get tired as quickly as I can."

A small boy went into a business office that displayed a sign, "Boy Wanted."

"What kind of a boy does youse want?" he asked of the manager.

"Why, a decent boy," said the manager. "One who is quick, doesn't swear, smoke cigarettes, whistle round the office, shoot craps--"

"Aw, gee, boss," interrupted the boy, "youse don't want a boy; youse wants a girl."

"How does your boy Josh like his job in the city?"

"First-rate," replied the father. "He knows more about the business than the man that owns it."

"Who told you that?"

"Josh did. All he's got to do now is to convince the boss of it, an' git promoted."

"Why, look here," said the merchant who was in need of a boy, "aren't you the same boy who was in here a week ago?"

"Yes, sir," said the applicant.

"I thought so. And didn't I tell you then that I wanted an older boy?"

"Yes, sir. That's why I'm back. I'm older now."

OFFICE-SEEKERS

Mayor Mitchel of New York was talking at a dinner about office-seekers.

"A good man had just died," he said, "and with unseemly haste an office-seeker came after his job.

"Yes, sir, tho the dead man hadn't been buried, yet this office-seeker came to me and said, breathlessly:

"'Mr. Mayor, do you see any objection to my being put in poor Tom Smith's place?'

"'Why, no,' said I. 'Why, no, I see no objection, if the undertaker doesn't.'"

No matter how hard a man runs for office he is perfectly satisfied to win in a walk.

There is seldom a collision between the office seeking the man and the man seeking the office.

"There goes a fellow who chased around for years trying to land a political job."

"Well, what does he do now?"

"Nothing--he's got the job."

Uncle Mose aspired to the elective office of justice of the peace in the "black bottom" part of town. One bar there was to his preferment: he could neither read nor write. His master advised him to go to the commissioner of elections and ask whether he was eligible. Mose went and returned.

"What did he tell you, Mose?" inquired the master.

"It's all right, sah," answered Mose; "dat gen'lemun suttinly was kind, yas, suh. He tole me Ah was illegible fo' dat office."

OFFICERS

OFFICER--"I ketched this here mut pinchin' bananas off a fruit-stand."

MAGISTRATE--"Aha! 'personating an officer! Two years."--_Life_.

COMMANDER--"What's his character apart from this leave-breaking?"

PETTY OFFICER--"Well, sir, this man 'e goes ashore when 'e likes; 'e comes off when 'e likes; 'e uses 'orrible language when 'e's spoken to; in fact, from 'is general be'avior, 'e might be a orficer!"--_Punch_.

PROFESSOR--"What! Forgotten your pencil again, Jones! What would you think of a soldier without a gun?"

JONES (an ex-service man)--"I'd think he was an officer."

OLD AGE

_See_ Age.

OLD CLOTHES

_See_ Clothing.

OPPORTUNITY

"But didn't Opportunity ever knock at your door?"

"Probably."

"And you didn't answer it?"

"I? Of course not. What do you think the servants are for?"

Lazyman, Contentedman, and Busyman lived together in the same house. One day, when only Lazyman and Contentedman were at home, Opportunity knocked.

As Lazyman made not the slightest move to go to the door, Contentedman went and opened it.

"I am Opportunity," said the visitor, "and I have something very wonderful for you."

Lazyman yawned and said nothing.

Contentedman courteously explained that he was not interested, for the very good reason that he had everything he wanted.

"I believe Busyman also lives here," said Opportunity. "Where is he? I know he would be glad to see me."

"Indeed he would, but he's out. He's always busy running around. You're not the first Opportunity that he's missed. Opportunities have been knocking here regularly for years, but he's never at home. I tell him it doesn't pay to be so busy."

Opportunity walked away with dejected mien.--_Life_.

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds, Makes ill deeds done!

--_Shakespeare_.

OPTIMISM

A part of what we might term the optimist's philosophy is--If you can mend a situation mend it; if you can't mend it forget it.--_Ralph Waldo Trine_.

If your confidence needs buttressing, just stop for a moment and consider that this old world in which we have found such happiness has throughout the past ages been visited by every catastrophe of which the human mind can conceive, and from each of these dark periods it has emerged always and eternally a progressive world.

Finally, I say, cheer up. Let's look on the bright side rather than the dark side, and above all let us understand that there are no insurmountable obstacles standing in the path of our progress, that we are competent to solve the things that confront us, that they will be solved, and that humankind will be benefited by the virtue of our assuming an optimism in which we are fully justified.--_Lewis L. Clark_.

LANDLADY--"Just when are you going to pay your arrears of room rent?"

HARD-UP AUTHOR--"As soon as I receive the check which the publisher will send me if he accepts the novel I am about to commence when I have found a suitable subject and the necessary inspiration."

An optimist is anybody who thinks he can write a new humorous definition of an optimist or a pessimist. A pessimist is the same person after he has made a serious attempt to do so.

An optimist looks at an oyster and expects a pearl. A pessimist looks at an oyster and expects ptomaine poisoning.

THE OPTIMIST (who has just been struck by a passing motor-car)--"Glory be! If this isn't a piece o' luck! Sure, 'tis the docther himself that's in ut."--_Punch_.

"What's an optimist?"

"An optimist is a person who'll go into a restaurant without a cent in his pocket and figure on paying for the meal with the pearl he hopes to find in the oyster."

"An optimist is a man who cherishes vain hopes, and a pessimist a man who nurses vain regrets."

"And what is a man who does both?"

"Oh, he's just a plain ordinary human."

ORIGINALITY

A certain little girl was discovered by her mother engaged in a spirited encounter with a small friend who had got considerably worsted in the engagement.

"Don't you know, dear," said the mother, "that it is very wicked to behave so? It was Satan that put it into your head to pull Elsie's hair."

"Well, perhaps it was," the child admitted, "but kicking her shins was entirely my own idea."

OSTRICH

The ostrich is a foolish bird, With scarcely any mind, He often runs away so fast, He leaves himself behind.

And when he gets there, has to stand And wait around till night, Without a single thing to do, Until he comes in sight.

--_Mary Wilkins Freeman_.

OUIJA BOARD

"Do you think Mrs. Spinnix cheated at the ouija board?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to say she cheated," replied Miss Cayenne, "But I couldn't help noticing that it mispelled some of its words the same way she does."

Harry came home about five o'clock and his face and hands were very clean and his hair stood on end. His mother took one look and exclaimed: "Harry, I told you not to go swimmin' with Bob Ross."

"How do you know that I have been swimmin'?" asked Harry.

"Never mind who told me, but I know that you have been swimmin'," replied his mother.

After a while Harry said: "I'll just bet you anything that Mrs. Ross was over here this afternoon, and you and Mrs. Ross had that ouija board out."--_Judge_.

Breathlessly the spiritualistically inclined lady bent over the ouija spelling out the communications from her departed spouse.

"John, are you happy there?" she asked.

"Yes, d-e-a-r."

"Are you happier than you were on the earth."

"Yes, d-e-a-r."

"Ah," she breathed. "Heaven must be a wonderful place."

"I g-u-e-s-s s-o, b-u-t I-m n-o-t t-h-e-r-e y-e-t."

"Well," said Farmer Corntossel, "I reckon I've done a pretty good afternoon's work."

"But all you did," commented Jud Tunkins, contemptuously, "was to sit on the fence and whittle."

"Yes; but what I whittled up was the family ouija board."

PARENTS

_When Ma Is Sick_

When Ma is sick she pegs away; She's quiet, though; not much t' say. She goes right on a-doin' things, An' sometimes laughs and even sings. She says she don't feel extra well. But then it's just a kind o' spell. She'll be all right tomorrow sure, A good old sleep will be the cure. An' Pa he sniffs an' makes no kick, For women folks is always sick, An' Ma, she smiles, lets on she's glad-- When Ma is sick it ain't so bad.

_When Pa Is Sick_ When Pa is sick, he's scared to death, An' Ma an' us just holds our breath. He crawls in bed, an' puffs and grunts, And does all kinds of crazy stunts. He wants "Doc" Brown, an' mighty quick, For when Pa's ill he's mighty sick. He gasps and groans, an' sort o' sighs, He talks so queer, an' rolls his eyes. Ma jumps an' runs, an' all of us, An' all the house is in a fuss. An' peace and joy is mighty skeerce-- When Pa is sick, it's something fierce.

"Come upstairs, and let me wash your hands," said mother, when she arrived with her little daughter for tea at granny's.

"I don't want to go up," wailed Winnie, aged four.

"Let her wash them down in the kitchen," called grand-mamma. "She can do it just as well."

"No," her mother said firmly. "I want her to come up with me!"

Winnie went upstairs as slowly as possible.

"Oh," said she, turning a wrathful tearful face to her mother, "Why don't you obey your mother?"

_Three Children_ Three children sliding on the ice Upon a summer's day. As it fell out they all fell in, The rest they ran away. Now, had these children been at home, Or sliding on dry ground, Ten thousand pounds to one penny They had not all been drowned. You parents all that children have, And you too that have none, If you would have them safe abroad Pray keep them safe at home.

WILLIE--"I guess my dad must have been a pretty bad boy."

TOMMIE--"What makes you think that?"

WILLIE--"Because he knows exactly what questions to ask me when he wants to know what I have been doing."--_Puck_.

Daddy came home from the office early one evening and mother had not returned from some friends whom she had been visiting for tea.

Little four-year-old Gwennie ran up to her father's side. "Daddy," she cried, "I've been wanting to see you for a long time when mother's not near."

"Why, my little girl?" asked father.

"Well, dad," answered Gwennie, "please don't tell mother, because she's an awful dear, but I don't think she knows much about bringing up children."

"What makes you think that?" asked her father.

"Well," replied Gwennie, "she makes me go to bed when I am wide awake and she makes me get up when I am awfully sleepy."

BOBBY--"Daddy, look! There's an aeroplane."

ABSORBED DADDY--"Yes, dear--don't touch it."

PARROTS

"Mercy! How that bird swears!" exclaimed the would-be purchaser. "What would my husband say?"

"I dunno, ma'am," replied the dealer. "But whatever it was this 'ere parrot could repeat it right over after him."

OLD LADY--"I want you to change that parrot I bought from you--he doesn't speak at all, and you said he'd repeat every word he heard."

SHOPMAN--"Yes, madam, and so he would--but you took him in such a hurry that I hadn't time to tell you he was deaf."

A.E. Clark, editor of The City Bulletin, of Columbus, Ohio, was with a friend who was campaigning for the Red Cross. The friend knocked at a door and a voice said, "Come in."

His friend tried the door, then shouted, "It's locked!"

"Come in," repeated the voice, and the campaigner replied:

"It's locked."

"Come in."

"It's locked."

At that point a woman put her head out of a window next door and said:

"There's no one at home. You're talking to the parrot."

PARTNERSHIP

The partners of a well-known Stock Exchange house were having a dinner conference at an uptown hotel. One of them appeared worried during the progress of the meal, and finally he was queried as to the cause of his fit of abstraction.

"I just happened to remember that I neglected to lock the safe before I left the office," he replied.

"Why worry?" said another member of the firm. "We are all here."

"I'll clean th' snow off yer walk for a quarter."

"Why, I just paid a quarter to have it cleaned."

"Tain't half done."

"Come, come, that isn't a nice way to abuse a fellow worker."

"Oh, dat's all right--he's me pardner."

A bright German gentleman, retired from business, relates the following little anecdote:

"Going down to New York the other night on the boat," said he, "I got chatting with a German acquaintance, and asked him what he was doing.

"'Veil', he replied, 'shoost now I am doing nodings, but I have made arrangements to go into pizness.'

"'Glad to hear it. What are you going into?'

"'Veil, I guess into partnership mit a man.'

"'Do you put in much capital?'

"'No; I doesn't put in no gabital.'

"'Don't want to risk it, eh?'

"'No; but I puts in de experience.'

"'And he puts in the capital?'

"'Yes, dot is it. We goes into pizness for dree year; he puts in de gabital, I puts in de experience. At the end of de dree year I will have de gabital, and he will have de experience!'"

PEACE

"Why were all the nations fighting, papa?"

"To make the world safe for democracy, my son."

"Is the world safe for democracy now, papa?"

"It will be, when we have peace."

"When will we have peace, papa?"

"When the world is safe for democracy."

"Will the nations always fight to have peace, papa?"

"Yes, always, my son."

A certain people were much given to deploring war. War, they kept insisting, was poor business.

Their King heard them, but he didn't take them seriously. The very first chance he got he picked a quarrel with a neighboring Power, and, that done, he lifted up his voice in the old way.

"The fatherland is in danger!" he cried. "The honor of the nation is assailed! My children, be patriots!"

But they couldn't see him. "Not on your life!" they made answer. "You can fool all the people some of the time and some of the people all of the time, but you can not fool all the people all the time!"

Whereupon the King made haste to patch up his quarrel and was very careful forever after not to pick another.

This fable teaches that we have still some distance to go before universal peace can be anything but a joke.

PEDESTRIANS

"You know," said the lady whose motor-car had run down a man, "you must have been walking very carelessly. I am a very careful driver. I have been driving a car for seven years."

"Lady, you've got nothing on me. I've been walking for fifty-four years."

Chug-Chug! Br-r! Br-r-r! Honk! Honk! Gilligillug-gilligillug!

The pedestrian paused at the intersection of two busy cross streets.

He looked about. A motor-car was rushing at him from one direction, a motorcycle from another, a steam truck was coming from behind, and a taxicab was speedily approaching.

Zip-zip! Zing-glug!

He looked up, and saw directly above him an air-ship in rapid descent.

There was but one chance. He was standing upon a manhole cover. Quickly seizing it, he lifted the lid and jumped into the hole just in time to be run over by an underground train.

PENMANSHIP

Mr. Brown had just registered and was about to turn away when the clerk asked:

"Beg pardon, but what is your name?"

"Name!" echoed the indignant guest. "Don't you see my signature there on the register?"

"I do," returned the clerk calmly. "That is what aroused my curiosity."

PEP

Vigor, vitality, vim and punch-- That's Pep! The courage to act on a sudden hunch-- That's Pep! The nerve to tackle the hardest thing With feet that climb and hands that cling, And a heart that never forgets to sing-- That's Pep.

Sand and grit in a concrete base-- That's Pep! Friendly smile on an honest face-- That's Pep! The spirit that helps when another's down, That knows how to scatter the blackest frown, That loves its neighbor, and loves its town-- That's Pep.

To say "I will," for you know you can-- That's Pep! To look for the best in every man-- That's Pep! To meet each thundering knock-out blow, And come back strong, because you know You'll get the best of the whole damned show-- That's Pep.

--_Henry W. Stern_.

PERCENTAGE

"Speaking of percentages." said the old-time politician, "reminds me of Tom Bledsoe, who had the butcher shop in our town. He used to buy rabbits from the boys. One day he hung up a sign announcing rabbit sausage for sale. People wondered what it was, took a hack at it, and liked it. Pretty soon he was selling rabbit sausage by the wagon-load.

"But the pure-food inspectors came prying around, and asked Tom how he could make so much sausage when he got only a few dozen rabbits a day. Finally he admitted that there was some horse-meat in the sausage. Then they wanted to know how much horse-meat. After a long grilling he said it was fifty per cent. When pressed further by his questioners, he explained that fifty per cent meant one rabbit to one horse."

PERSISTENCE

Persistence can accomplish two things--it can make one either a success or a bore.

_Fishin'_

"Supposin" fish don't bite at first, What are you goin' to do? Throw down your pole, chuck out your bait And say your fishin's through?

"You bet you ain't; you're goin' to fish An' fish, an' fish, an' wait Until you've ketched a bucketful Or used up all your bait.

"Suppose success don't come at first, What are you goin' to do? Throw up the sponge and kick yourself And growl, and fret, and stew?

"You bet you ain't; you're goin' to fish An' bait, an' bait ag'in, Until success will bite your hook. For grit is sure to win."

PERSUASION

"Mother," said a twelve-year-old of Baltimore, "did you tell father I wanted a new bicycle?"

"Yes, dear," said the mother, "I told him; but he said he couldn't afford to buy you one."

"Of course he'd say that; but what did you do?"

"I told him how badly you wanted it, and argued in favor of it, but he refused."

"Argued! Oh, mother, if it had been something you wanted yourself you'd have cried a little and then you'd have got it."

Persuasion tips his tongue whene'er he talks.--_Colley Gibber_.

Few are open to conviction, but the majority of men are open to persuasion.--_Goethe_.

PESSIMISM

TED--"What's the difference between a pessimist and a cynic?"

NED--"The pessimist is without hope, while the cynic is sure you'll always be able to get a drink if you have the price."--_Life_.

_The Pessimist_

Nothing to do but work, Nothing to eat but food, Nothing to wear but clothes, To keep one from going nude.

Nothing to breathe but air, Quick as a flash 'tis gone; Nowhere to fall but off, Nowhere to stand but on.

Nothing to comb but hair, Nowhere to sleep but in bed, Nothing to weep but tears, Nothing to bury but dead.

Nothing to sing but songs, Ah, well, alas! alack! Nowhere to go but out, Nowhere to come but back.

Nothing to see but sights, Nothing to quench but thirst, Nothing to have but what we've got Thus through life we are cursed.

Nothing to strike but a gait; Everything moves that goes. Nothing at all but common sense Can ever withstand these woes.

--_Ben King_.

It was a mile over Mount Clemens.

The pilot of the plane from Selfridge Field was giving a visiting officer his first air voyage.

He cut off the motor.

"See those people?" shouted the pilot. "Fifty per cent of them think we are going to fall."

"They've got nothing on us," was the reply that streamed for a half a mile back of the plane; "fifty per cent of us do."

THE PESSIMIST--"The best luck any man can have is never to have been born; but that seldom happens to any one."

Said the weather prophet, "I think it is safest always to predict bad weather."

"Why's that?"

"Well, people are ready to forgive you if you turn out to be wrong."

Out at the front two regiments, returning to the trenches, chanced to meet. There was the usual exchange of wit.

"When's the bloomin' war goin' to end?" asked one north-country lad.

"Dunno," replied one of the southshires. "We've planted some daffydils in front of our trench."

"Bloomin' optimists!" snorted the man from the north. "We've planted acorns."

_See also_ Irish bulls; Optimism.

PHILADELPHIA

The city of Philadelphia offers a liberal reward for the most important contribution toward civic improvement. A fine opportunity for manufacturers of alarm clocks.

PHILANTHROPISTS

WEALTHY BENEFACTRESS (stopping in at the hospital)--"Well, we'll bring the car tomorrow, and take some of your patients for a drive. And, by the bye, nurse, you might pick out some with bandages that show--the last party might not have been wounded at all, as far as anybody in the streets could see."--_Punch_.

PHILOSOPHY

Rube Wilkins says--"You can't get ahead while you're kickin' any more than a mule can."

All philosophy lies in two words, "sustain" and "abstain." --_Epictetus_.

The philosophy of one century is the common sense of the next.--_Henry Ward Beecher_.

Philosophy, while it soothes the reason, damps the ambition. --_Bulwer-Lytton_.

PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS

_See_ Doctors.

PITTSBURG

PITTSBURG MAN (telephoning to Long Island from New York)--"Ten cents? Why, in Pittsburg we can telephone to Hades for a nickel."

CENTRAL--"But this is a long-distance call."

PLEASURE

Pleasures are like liqueurs: they must be drunk but in small glasses.--_Romainville_.

POETRY

EDITOR--"This isn't poetry, my dear man; it's merely an escape of gas."

WOULD-BE CONTRIBUTOR--"Ah, I see! Something wrong with the meter."

Your poem must _eternal_ be, Dear sir, it can not fail, For 'tis incomprehensible, And wants both _head_ and _tail_.

--_S.T. Coleridge_.

"What is poetry of motion?"

"The kind that's always going from one editor to another."

They were dancing the one-step. The music was heavenly. The swish of her silken skirts was divine. The fragrance of the roses upon her bosom was really intoxicating.

"Ah," she smiled, sweetly, with an arch look up into his face, "you remind me of one of Whitman's poems."

A sudden dizziness seemed to seize him. It was as if he were floating in a dream. When he had sufficiently gained his breath he spoke:

"Which one?"

"Oh, any one," she replied. "The feet are mixed in all of them."--_Everybody's_.

POETS

Sir, I admit your general rule, That every poet is a fool, But you yourself may serve to show it, That every fool is not a poet.

--_Alexander Pope_.

Witter Bynner is said to have worked off a pretty good one at the Poetry Society banquet. Some one asked him if Burns and Noyes could not be likened to each other. Bynner replied: "Well, you can feel Burns, while you can only hear Noyes."

When Masefield, the British poet, visited Yale, he finished his evening's talk and readings earlier than was expected, and the chairman of the meeting suggested that the poet should read any poem requested by the audience. The audience, as usually happens, was dumb. It was an awkward moment. Finally, one of the younger English Department members rushed agitatedly into the breach.

"Won't you please read 'The Tewksbury Road,' Mr. Masefield?"

The poet looked amazed, then puzzled, and at last said with a hesitating desire not to offend "these singular Americans": "Ah--er--I--ah!--would be charmed to do so--really--but I've just read it!"

Professor Alfred Noyes, the English poet, it is known, likes very much to read his works aloud to his friends, and at Princeton, with so many young men under him, he is usually able to gratify this liking to the full. The other day Professor Noyes said to a junior who had called about an examination: "Wait a minute. Don't go yet. I want to show you the proofs of my new book of poems." But the junior made for the door frantically. "No, no," he said. "I don't need proofs. Your word is enough for me, professor."

HE--"I tore up that poem I wrote last week."

SHE--"Tore it up? Why, that was the best thing you ever did."

The little agricultural village had been billed with "Lecture on Keats" for over a fortnight. The evening arrived at length, bringing the lecturer ready to discourse on the poet. The advertised chairman, taken ill at the last moment, was replaced by a local farmer. This worthy introduced the lecturer and terminated his remarks by saying:

"And now, my friends, we shall soon all know what 1 personally have often wondered--what are Keats?"

POLICE

"Why doesn't the policeman pay his fare?" inquired the old gentleman on the twopenny tram, observing that no money passed between the constable and the conductor.

"Well, you know, sir," explained the conductor, "you can't get twopence out of a copper."

"Gent up-town telephones for an officer at once. Burglar in the house."

"Let me see," said the captain, reflectively. "I've got four men censoring plays, two inspecting the gowns at a society function, and two more supervising a tango tea. Tell him I can send him an officer in about two hours."

JUDGE--"You let the burglar go to arrest an automobilist?"

POLICEMAN--"Yes. The autoist pays a fine and adds to the resources of the State; the burglar goes to prison, and the State has to pay for his keep."--_Life_.

POLITENESS

Politeness is the art of getting what you want.

MRS. SMITH--"Politeness costs nothing, I am sure, my dear."

SMITH--"No; but if it was advertised at $1.98, a lot more people would have it."

"Hum, ho!" sighed the New-Hampshire farmer as he came in from down-town. "Deacon Jones wants me to be pall-bearer again to his wife's funeral."

"Wal, you're goin' to be, ain't ye?" asked the farmer's better half.

"I dunno. Y' know, when Deacon Jones's fust wife died, he asked me to be a pall-bearer, an' I did; and then his second wife died, an' I was the same again. An' then he married thet Perkins gal, and she died, and I was pall-bearer to that funeral. An' now--wal, I don't like to be all the time acceptin' favors without bein' able to return 'em."

Dickie's father was shocked to see his son kick his little playmate.

"Why did you kick John?" he asked, severely.

"I am tired of playing with him. I want him to go home," was Dickie's answer.

"Then why didn't you ask him to go home?"

"Oh"--it was Dickie's turn to be shocked--"why, daddy, that wouldn't be polite!"

_See also_ Etiquet.

POLITICAL PARTIES

Kane, Pa., May 21.--During a circus parade here today one of the elephants, as if to relieve the monotony, flung its trunk in the air and brought it down with a resounding thump on a mule at the curb quietly watching the sights.

Altho hitched to a delivery-wagon the mule wheeled about, took aim, and kicked twice. His hoofs caught the elephant squarely on the knees. The elephant stopped for an instant, but sought no further interchanges with the mule and finished the parade with a decided limp.

When Colonel Roosevelt was making a political speech in Maine he asked if there was a Democrat in the audience. An old long whiskered man rose in the back of the room and said, "I am a Democrat." Roosevelt then asked him why he was a Democrat and he said: "I've always been a Democrat, my father was a Democrat and my grandfather was a Democrat." Roosevelt then said: "Then if your father had been a horsethief and your grandfather had been a horsethief you would be a horsethief?" "No," he said, "I would be a Republican."

In an Americanization class in one of our large cities, Achilles Bonglis, a Greek, about fifty years old, was called upon to recite the oath of allegiance, and did so promptly:

"I pledge allegiance to our flag and the _Republicans_ for which it stands."

MEMBROOKE--"Backus seems to be a very popular candidate. Is he running on the Progressive ticket?"

YISTLEY--"No, the Retrogressive, His platform is five-cent trolleys, ten-cent bread, three-dollar shoes and 1913 rents."

A prominent Chicago politician, when a candidate for an important municipal office, related the following story of his campaign.

"Once I told three negroes that I'd give a big turkey to the one who'd give the best reason for his being a Republican.

"The first one said: 'I'se a 'publican kase de 'publican set us niggers free.'

"'Very good, Pete,' said I. 'Now, Bill, let me hear from you.'

"'Well, I'se a 'publican kase dey don' gib us a pertective tariff.'

"'Fine!' I exclaimed. 'Now, Sam, what have you to say?'

"'Boss," said Sam, scratching his head and shifting from one foot to the other, 'boss, I'se a 'publican kase I wants dat turkey.'

"And he got it."

POLITICIANS

"And why is he here?" we inquired, stopping in front of Padded Cell No. 44.

"He was a politician and when he finally got in office he really tried to carry out his campaign pledges," replied the attendant.--_Judge_.

"Do you find public office an easy berth?"

"I shouldn't exactly call it a berth," said Senator Sorghum, thoughtfully. "It's more like a hammock: hard to get into comfortably, and still harder to get out of gracefully."

Here lies Mr. Blank, who, on politics bent, Was at first quite unable to say what he meant; But schooled by experience, he soon went ahead, Once he saw that he never need mean what he said.

"I hope that Wilhelm has not decided to take up politics," mused Senator Sorghum.

"Why?"

"Because a military man can be definitely disposed of, but a politician never quits."

In Colorado, remember, the women vote as well as the men.

In the fall of 1910 a man named Smith was running for sheriff against a man named Jones. One evening just before election Smith rode up to the barn-yard of an old farmer. The farmer was milking a cow and was having difficulty with a lusty calf that continually tried to "butt in." The candidate, to gain the favor of the farmer, took the calf between his legs and held it until the milking was done. He then introduced himself: "I am Mr. Smith, the Republican candidate for sheriff of the county. I suppose you know the man who's running against me?"

The farmer's eyes twinkled as he slowly drawled: "Waal, I reckon I do. He's in the house now, holding the baby."--_Everybody's_.

"Some of your constituents are disagreeing with you," said the trusted lieutenant.

"Well, keep tab on them," replied Senator Sorghum; "when enough disagree with me to constitute a reliable majority, I'm going to turn around and agree with them."

"Are you sure your auditors understood all of your arguments?"

"If they did," answered Senator Sorghum, "I wish they'd come around and explain some of 'em to me."

"Who can furnish a clear definition of a politician?" inquired the Professor.

"I can," said the son of a Congressman. "To which party do you refer?"

"My proudest boast," declared the politician, who expected this statement to be greeted with cheers, "is that I was one of the men behind the guns."

"How many miles behind?" piped a voice from the gallery.

"What is your opinion of relativity?"

"I approve of it," replied Senator Sorghum.

"Then you understand it thoroughly?"

"Friend, if I had always been required to understand thoroughly everything I approved of I should have transacted considerable less political business."

"I'm sorry you were defeated," said a sympathetic friend of the candidate.

"Perhaps it is better so."

"That's the better way to look at it."

"Yes, according to an elderly aunt of mine who keeps up with all the family connections, I have no fewer than four hundred living relatives. I couldn't have possibly provided jobs for more than half of them."

_See also_ Public speakers.

POLITICS

GREEN--"What is the hardest work you ever did?"

CITY EMPLOYEE--"The work I did landing this job, and the next hardest is the work of keeping it from being taken away from me."--_Judge_.

"I am out of politics for good," announced the Political Boss.

"Whose?" questioned the Green Reporter.

POLITICAL BOSS--"So you wish to enter politics, madam. What are your qualifications?"

LADY APPLICANT--"Well, I have served three terms as a member of the Board of Education."

YOUNG 'UN--"I'm taking political economy at college."

OLD 'UN--"That's a useless course. Why learn to economize in politics? It's not being done."

FIRST PASSENGER--"I understand that your city has the rottenest political ring in the country."

SECOND PASSENGER--"That's right. But how did you know where I'm from?"

FIRST PASSENGER--"I don't."

PROSECUTING ATTORNEY (investigating election fund)--"Dave, what happened to you before you reached the polls?"

DAVE (an old negro)--"Well suh, the fust thing, suh, a man stopped me an' said: 'Dave, heah's four dollahs; I want you to go right down to de polls an' vote for Mr. Brown; he's the Republican candidate for Congress and a very fine man.'"

PROSECUTOR--"Did you take the money?"

DAVE--"O, yassir, I took de money. And then, as I wuz goin' on down de street another man stops me and says: 'Dave, heah's seven dollahs; I want you to go right down to de polls an' vote for Mr. Rogers; he's the Democratic nominee for Congress and a very fine man.'"

PROSECUTOR--"Did you take that money, too, Dave?"

DAVE--"O, yassir, I took dat money, too, suh."

PROSECUTOR--"Then, Dave, how did you vote?"

DAVE--"Well, suh, after speculatin' quite a spell, suh, as to what a niggah ought to do in a case ob dat kind, suh, I walks right into de polls and votes de straight Republican ticket, suh, 'cause I figgered, suh, dat dis here Republican man, he war de least corrupt ob de two."

"Don't you think our friend Crossum might loom up as a dark horse?"

"No," declared Senator Sorghum, "record's too shady. It would require a great deal of whitewashing to qualify him as a dark horse."

YOUNG HOPEFUL--"Father, what is a traitor in politics?"

VETERAN POLITICIAN--"A traitor is a man who leaves our party and goes over to the other one."

YOUNG HOPEFUL--"Well, then, what is a man who leaves his party and comes over to yours?"

VETERAN POLITICIAN--"A convert, my son."

During a municipal campaign in Chicago a politician dropped in one morning to see a certain grocer. During the conversation that took place, the politician asked, "And I may count upon your support, may I not?"

"Why, no, I am sorry to say," replied the grocer. "The fact is, I have promised my support to the other candidate."

The politician laughed. "Ah," said he, "in politics, promising and performing are two different things."

"In that case," said the grocer cordially, "I shall be glad to give you my promise, sir."

STRANGER--"Upon what plan are your city institutions conducted?"

CITIZEN-"A sort of let-George-do-it system--without any George."--_Puck_.

POSTAL SERVICE

WILLIS--"What did you think of that fellow's carrying the message to Garcia?"

GILLIS--"Don't blame him a bit. With our poor Post Office service, it was the only way he could get it to him."

COUNTRY LADY--"I've been expecting a packet of medicine by post for a week, and haven't received it yet."

POST-OFFICE CLERK--"Yes, madam. Kindly fill in this form, and state the nature of your complaint."

LADY--"Well, if you must know, it's indigestion."

Aunt Mehitable Trusalive wants to know why it is every letter she gets somebody is always printing on the outside: "Join the Navy." She declares to goodness she never thought of such a thing and if they don't stop she'll have the law on them.

DASHER--"This parcel-post package is being delivered in unusually quick time. How do you account for it?"

MAIL-CARRIER--"The department thought it contained a time-bomb, sir."-_Judge_.

FANNING--"What's become of that rubber stamp, 'Dictated, but not read,' that you used to use on your letters?"

DASHER--"I threw it away and got one that prints, 'Mailed, but not delivered.'"

POVERTY

Poverty is the greatest of physicians. His method is prophylactic rather than therapeutic, but in point of results he is in a class by himself.

His practice attests the efficacy of the ounce of prevention in big doses.

Poverty ranks high as a surgeon, too. Nobody else cuts out so many things that are not good for us.

In a way he has the respect of the profession. Where he is in charge of a case no other practitioner is apt to interfere.

We should not so much esteem our poverty as a misfortune, were it not that the world treats it so much as a crime.--_Boree_.

Not to be able to bear poverty is a shameful thing, but not to know how to chase it away by work is a more shameful thing yet.--_Pericles_.

Want is a bitter and a hateful good, Because its virtues are not understood; Yet many things, impossible to thought, Have been by need to full perfection brought.

--_Dryden_.

Ned Shuter thus explained his reasons for preferring to wear stockings with holes to having them darned: "A hole," said he, "may be the accident of a day, and will pass upon the best gentleman, but a darn is premeditated poverty."

PRAISE

The highest praise for a man is to give him responsibility.

A playwright and an actor were in conversation when the former, who has been none too successful of late, exclaimed gloomily:

"People will praise my work after I am dead."

"Well," said the actor, in a consoling tone, "perhaps you are right, but don't you think it's a great deal of a sacrifice to make for a little praise?"

"Well, there's one thing about the man who sings his own praises."

"And what's that?"

"He never has to give the excuse that he has left his music home and can't play without his notes."

The love of praise, howe'er conceal'd by art, Reigns, more or less, and glows, in ev'ry heart: The proud, to gain it, toils on toils endure; The modest shun it, but to make it sure.

--_Young_.

Praising what is lost, Makes the remembrance dear.

--_Shakespeare_.

PRAYERS

A very nice and gentle minister accepted a call to a new church in a town where many of the members bred horses and sometimes raced them. A few weeks later he was asked to invite the prayers of the congregation for Lucy Grey. Willingly and gladly he did so for three Sundays. On the fourth one of the deacons told the minister he need not do it any more.

"Why," asked the good man, with an anxious look, "is she dead?"

"Oh, no," said the deacon; "she's won the steeplechase."

The two men were adrift in an open boat and it looked bad for them. Finally one of them, frightened, began to pray.

"O Lord," he prayed, "I've broken most of Thy commandments. I've been a hard drinker, but if my life is spared now I'll promise Thee never again--"

"Wait a minute, Jack," said, his friend. "Don't go too far. I think I see a sail."

Lindsley had the little hen fast and was trying to bring her head close to the ground.

"What might you be trying to do?" exclaimed her father coming upon the small girl in the yard.

"I'm trying to make this hen say her prayers."

"Well," said the parent sadly, "I hope she'll say: 'Now I lay me.'"

BROWN (on fishing trip)--"Boys, the boat is sinking! Is there any one here who knows how to pray?"

JONES (eagerly)--"I do."

BROWN--"All right. You pray and the rest of us will put on life belts. They's one shy."

A small boy, whose father is now on the other side with the Y.M.C.A., was taught to say at the end of his prayer, "Please, God, make Graham a good boy." One night he did not say it, and when his mother asked him if he had not forgotten something, he said, "No; I thought I was asking too much of God. I'd better do more myself."

GRANDSON (who hasn't decided yet just what branch of the service will have the benefit of his talents)--"There seems to be quite a diversity of opinion regarding what prayer to say in response to the Senate's request for daily prayer for victory."

GRANDMA (industriously knitting)--"Guess any of 'em will do, so long as it isn't 'Now I lay me down to sleep.'"

"The proper way for a man to pray," Said Deacon Lemuel Keyes, "And the only proper attitude Is down upon his knees."

"No, I should say the way to pray," Said Rev. Doctor Wise, "Is standing straight with outstretched arms And rapt and upturned eyes."

"Oh, no, no, no," said Elder Slow, "Such posture is too proud; A man should pray with eyes fast closed And head contritely bowed."

"It seems to me his hands should be Austerely clasped in front, With both thumbs pointing to the ground," Said Rev. Doctor Blunt.

"Last year I fell in Hodgkin's well Head first," said Cyrus Brown, "With both my heels a-stickin' up, My head a-pinting down;

"An' I made a prayer right then an' there-- Best prayer I ever said, The prayingest prayer I ever prayed, A-standing on my head."

--_Sam Walter Foss_.

A young mother was about to hear her small girl's prayers when a neighbor called and said she must see the mother right away. They had been talking at the front door several minutes when a reproachful little voice came from the top of the stairway:

"Mamma, aren't you 'shamed to keep God waiting so long?"

It was the week before little Willie's birthday, and he was on his knees at his bedside petitioning Divine Providence for presents in a very loud voice.

"Please send me," he shouted, "a bicycle, a tool chest, a--"

"What are you praying so loud for?" his younger brother interrupted. "God ain't deaf."

"I know he ain't," said little Willie, winking toward the next room, "but grandma is."

MARJORIE--"Will I get everything I pray for, mama?"

MOTHER (cautiously)--"Everything that's good for you, dear."

MARJORIE (disgustedly)--"Oh, what's the use, then; I get that anyway."--_Life_.

One day little Flora was taken to have an aching tooth removed. That night, while she was saying her prayers, her mother was surprised to hear her say: "And forgive us our debts as we forgive our dentists."--_Everybody's_.

SMALL YOUTH--"I ain't goin' to say my prayers tonight, mother. I'm goin' to take a chance."--_Life_.

Bobby had been taught to remember all his relatives when he said his prayers. One night, as he knelt at his mother's knee, he did not mention the name of a favorite aunt.

"Why, Bobby," said the mother, "you didn't say 'God bless Aunt Beatrice and make her happy.'"

"Well, mother," replied the little boy, "I don't have to say that any more. Aunt Beatrice's engaged."

Two prominent senators, boyhood friends, were discussing how strict had been their early religious training and how they had departed from it in late years. Said A to B: "I don't believe you even remember the Lord's Prayer, do you?" B answered: "Oh, yes, I do; I'm not such a backslider as that." Then A said: "I'll bet a dollar you cannot say the Lord's Prayer straight through." B promptly declared that he would win that dollar and, after a moment's thoughtful hesitation, repeated slowly:

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.

"By Jove," said A, "here is your dollar; I didn't believe you could do it."

"We'd have more prayers answered," said Bishop Hoss, of Muskogee, "if we had more faith."

"Too many of us are like Willie. Willie, on a visit to his uncle's in the country, admired a fine colt.

"'Uncle, give me that colt, will you?' he asked.

"'Why, no, Willie,' said his uncle. 'That's a very valuable colt, and I couldn't afford to give him to you. Do you want a colt so very badly?'

"'I'd rather have a colt than anything else in the world,' said Willie.

"'Then,' said his uncle. 'I'll tell you what you ought to do. Since you want a colt that much, you ought to pray for one. Whenever I want a thing I always pray for it, and then it is sure to come to me.'

"'Is that so, uncle?' said Willie, eagerly. 'Won't you please give me this colt, then, and pray for one for yourself?'"

An old darkey who was asked if, in his experience, prayer was ever answered, replied:

"Well, sah! some pra'rs is ansud, an' some isn't--'pends on wa't you axes fo'. Jest arter de wah, w'en it was mighty hard scratchin' fo' de cullud breddern, I 'bsarved dat w'eneber I pway de Lord to sen' one o' Marse Peyton's fat turkeys fo' de old man, dere was no notis took ob de partition; but w'en I pway dat He would sen' de ole man fo' de turkey, de matter was t'ended to befo' sun-up nex' morning', dead sartin."

PREACHING

The railroad official invited the stern citizen to communicate his troubles.

"I want you to give orders," demanded the visitor, "that the engineer of the express which passes through Elm Grove at 11:55 be restrained from blowing his whistle Sunday mornings."

"Impossible!" exploded the official. "What prompts you to make such a ridiculous request?"

"Well, you see," explained the citizen in an undertone, "our pastor preaches until he hears the whistle blow and that confounded express was twenty minutes late last Sunday."

The American in England affords cause for much perplexity and astonishment to his English kinsmen.

A Yankee soldier was being shown over an old church wherein hundreds of people were buried.

"A great many people sleep between these walls," said the guide, indicating the inscription-covered floor with a sweep of his hand.

"So?" said the Sammy. "Same way over in our country. Why don't you get a more interesting preacher?"

A colored preacher called on a white minister.

He found the white man busy writing.

"What you-all doin'?" he asked.

"I'm preparing notes for my sermon for next Sunday."

The colored gentleman shook his head.

"I certainly would nebber do dat, sir," he said. "De debbil am a-lookin' right over your shoulder and knows everything you gwine to say and he am prepared for you. Now, I don't make no notes and when I gets up to talk, neder me nor de debbil hisself don't know what I'm goin' to say."

Bishop Partridge is a collector of anecdotes about ministers, and in an anecdotal mood he said the other day:

"I once asked a minister how he had got through a certain service. He answered grimly:

"'Well, bishop, the service was soothing, moving and satisfactory.'

"'Yes,' I said a little puzzled.

"'Yes, exactly,' said he. 'It was soothing because over half the congregation went to sleep. It was moving because half of the other half left before I was through. And it must have been satisfactory, inasmuch as I wasn't asked to come again.'"

The minister had just preached his farewell sermon to the congregation with whom he had had much trouble.

"How beautiful!" said a visitor to one of the deacons, "and how appropriate for a farewell sermon!"

"Think so?" said the deacon gruffly.

"Why, yes. What better text could he find than 'In My Father's house are many mansions.... I go to prepare a place for you.' By the way, where is he going?"

The deacon smiled sourly as he answered: "He becomes chaplain of the State penitentiary."

While a certain Scottish minister was conducting religious services in an asylum for the insane, one of the inmates cried out wildly:

"I say, have we got to listen to this?"

The minister, surprised and confused, turned to the keeper and said:

"Shall I stop speaking?"

The keeper replied:

"No, no; gang along, gang along; that will not happen again. That man only has one lucid moment every seven years."

Mr. Bryan says his next statement will be divided into three parts. Instinctively we recall the announcement of a mountaineer preacher who said to his flock:

"Brethren, I hev decided t' divide my sermon in three parts. Th' fust