"Who are you?" said one of the men.

"I'm Dodgin, the new foreman," he replied.

"So are we," replied the other workers, "sit down and have a smoke."



ENEMIES

Speak well of your enemies. Remember you made them.

The fine and noble way to kill a foe Is not to kill him; you with kindness may So change him, that he shall cease to be so; Then he's slain.

—Aleyn.



ENGLISH LANGUAGE

By way of enlarging the children's vocabulary, our village school-teacher is in the habit of giving them a certain word and asking them to form a sentence in which that word occurs. The other day she gave the class the word "notwithstanding." There was a pause, and then a bright-faced youngster held up his hand.

"Well, what is your sentence, Tommy?" asked the teacher.

"Father wore his trousers out, but notwithstanding."

TILDA—"Pass the 'lasses."

LIZZIE (who has attended school)—"Don't say ''lasses.' Say molasses."

TILDA—"How come I say mo' 'lasses when I ain't had none yet?"

Jailless Crimes

Killing time. Hanging pictures. Stealing bases. Shooting the chutes. Choking off a speaker. Running over a new song. Smothering a laugh. Setting fire to a heart. Knifing a performance. Murdering the English language.—Judge.

"Now, boys," said the schoolmaster, "I want you to bear in mind that the word 'stan' at the end of a word means 'the place of.' Thus we have Afghanistan—the place of the Afghans; also Hindustan—the place of the Hindus. Can any one give me another example?"

Nobody appeared very anxious to do so, until little Johnny Snaggs, the joy of his mother and the terror of the cats, said proudly—

"Yes, sir, I can. Umbrellastan—the place for umbrellas."

He went into a shop to buy a comb. He was a man careful of other people's grammar, and believed himself to be careful of his own.

"Do you want a narrow man's comb?" asked the assistant.

"No," answered the careful grammarian, "I want a comb for a stout man with tortoiseshell teeth."

TEACHER—"Thomas, will you tell me what a conjunction is, and compose a sentence containing one?"

THOMAS (after reflection)—"A conjunction is a word connecting anything, such as 'The horse is hitched to the fence by his halter.' 'Halter' is a conjunction, because it connects the horse and the fence."

A young man poured out a long story of adventure to a Boston girl. Surprised, she asked:

"Did you really do that?"

"I done it," answered the proud young man. He began another narrative, more startling than the first.

When she again expressed her surprise, he said, with inflated chest, "I done it."

"Do you know," remarked the girl, "you remind me strongly of Banquo's Ghost?"

"Why?"

"Don't you remember that Macbeth said to him, 'Thou canst not say, "I did it"'?" and the young man wondered why everybody laughed.

An English professor, traveling through the hills, noted various quaint expressions. For instance, after a long ride the professor sought provisions at a mountain hut.

"What d' yo'-all want?" called out a woman.

"Madam," said the professor, "can we get corn bread here? We'd like to buy some of you."

"Corn bread? Corn bread, did yo' say?" Then she chuckled to herself, and her manner grew amiable. "Why, if corn bread's all yo' want, come right in, for that's just what I hain't got nothing else on hand but."

Charles B. Towns, the antidrug champion, spent some time in China several years ago with Samuel Merwin, the writer. In a Hongkong shop-window they noticed some Chinese house-coats of particularly striking designs and stepped in to purchase one. Mr. Towns asked Mr. Merwin to do the bargaining.

"Wantum coatee," said Mr. Merwin to the sleepy-eyed Oriental who shuffled up with a grunt. He placed several of the coats before them.

"How muchee Melican monee?" inquired Mr. Merwin.

"It would aid me in transacting this sale," said the Chinaman, "if you would confine your language to your mother tongue. The coat is seven dollars."

Mr. Merwin took it.

Grace's uncle met her on the street one spring day and asked her whether she was going out with a picnic party from her school.

"No," replied his eight-year-old niece, "I ain't going."

"My dear," said the uncle, "you must not say, 'I ain't going.' You must say, 'I am not going.'" And he proceeded to give her a little lesson in grammar: "'You are not going. He is not going. We are not going. You are not going. They are not going.' Now, can you say all that?"

"Sure I can," responded Grace quite heartily. "There ain't nobody going."—Harper's.

"What is the plural of man, Willie?" asked the teacher of a small pupil.

"Men," answered Willie.

"And, the plural of child?"

"Twins," was the unexpected reply.

A colored woman one day visited the court-house in a Tennessee town and said to the judge:

"Is you-all the reperbate judge?"

"I am the judge of probate, mammy."

"I'se come to you-all 'cause I'se in trubble. Mah man—he's done died detested and I'se got t'ree little infidels so I'se cum to be appointed der execootioner."



ENGLISHMEN

At a dinner in New York an Englishman heard for the first time and, probably after due explanation, was much amused by that "toasted" chestnut:

"Here's to the happiest hours of my life,

"Spent in the arms of another man's wife:

"My mother."

Shortly after his return to England he was present at a banquet, and thought he would get off the New York toast he had considered so clever. At the proper time he rose and said:

"Here's to the happiest hours of my life,

"Spent in the arms of another man's wife:

"Spent in the arms of another man's wife—

"Another man's wife. Excuse me, I really cawn't recall the lady's name, but it doesn't matter."



ENTHUSIASM

A Soldier of color, recently "over there," had proposed to, and been accepted by his dusky sweetheart. During the marriage ceremony he showed such signs of nervousness that the minister, noticing it, whispered to him, in a voice which could have been heard half a mile:

"What's de mattah wif you Rastus, is yo dun los' yo' ring or sumpin?"

"N-no sah, Mr. Preacher," answered the ex-hero, "but I sho nuff dun los' mah 'thusiasm."

If a man lacks enthusiasm it takes him twice as long to accomplish a task.

A man who allows himself to be carried away with enthusiasm often has to walk back.



EPIGRAMS

An epigram is a twinkle in the eye of Truth.

Many a woman is blamed for making a fool of a man when he is really self-made.

Some men are like rusty needles; the best way to clean and brighten them is with work.

When one reaches the end of his rope, he should tie a knot in it and hang on.



EPITAPHS

A Tired Woman's Epitaph (Before 1850)

Here lies a poor woman, Who always was tired; She lived in a house, Where help was not hired; Her last words on earth were, "Dear friends I am going; Where washing ain't done, Nor sweeping nor sewing; But everything there is exact to my wishes, For where they don't eat, There's no washing of dishes; I'll be where loud anthems will always be ringing; But having no voice, I'll be clear of the singing; Don't mourn for me now, don't mourn for me never, I'm going to do nothing, forever and ever."

Mrs. Whann, the weeping widow of a well-known man, requested that the words "My sorrow is greater than I can bear" be placed upon the marble slab of her dear departed.

A few months later the lady returned and asked how much it would cost her to have the inscription effaced and another substituted.

"No need of that, marm," replied the man, soothingly; "you see, I left jes' enough room to add 'alone.'"

THE TOMBSTONE MAN (after several abortive suggestions)—"How would simply, 'Gone Home' do?"

MRS. NEWWEEDS—"I guess that would be all right. It was always the last place he ever thought of going."—Puck.

Here lies my wife: here let her lie! Now she's at rest, and so am I.

—John Dryden.

"Did you hear about the defacement of Mr. Skinner's tombstone?" asked Mr. Brown a few days after the funeral of that eminent captain of industry.

"No, what was it?" inquired his neighbor curiously.

"Someone added the word 'friends' to the epitaph."

"What was the epitaph?"

"He did his best."



EQUALITY

In a mood for companionship with none at hand, a New Yorker was making her way through a quiet down town cross street to an East Side subway. As she approached a team of horses standing by the curb, the nearer of the pair looked her straight in the eye man-to-man like. No driver being in sight she took from her pocket some lumps of sugar (reserved as a tip for the ice-horse) and fed and fondled and talked foolishly to her friend of the curb. Looking up before turning to the second horse, she was confused and startled to find a brisk young driver, reins in hand, looking ready to tear up the pavements in a mad rush to Jersey or somewhere. She hurried off to escape his wrath at being delayed. The angry words flung after her were: "The other one ain't no stepchild."

And the horses galloped off equally sugared.



ETIQUET

"Frances," said the little girl's mamma, who was entertaining callers in the parlor, "you came downstairs so noisily that you could be heard all over the house. Now go back and come down stairs like a lady."

Frances retired and after a few moments re-entered the parlor.

"Did you hear me come downstairs this time, mamma?"

"No dear; I am glad you came down quietly. Now, don't ever let me have to tell you again not to come down noisily. Now tell these ladies how you managed to come down like a lady the second time, when the first time you made so much noise."

"The last time I slid down the banisters," explained Frances.

Hearts, like doors, can ope with ease To very, very little keys, And don't forget that they are these "I thank you, Sir"; and, "If you please."

Unseen, Unheard

TEACHER—"What does a well-bred child do when a visitor calls to see her mother?"

CHILD—"Me—I go play in the street."

HOSTESS (at party)—"Does your mother allow you to have two pieces of pie when you are at home, Willie?"

WILLIE (who has asked for a second piece)—"No, ma'am."

"Well, do you think she'd like you to have two pieces here?"

"Oh," confidentially, "she wouldn't care. This isn't her pie!"

"I can't understand this code of ethics."

"What code is that?"

"The one which makes it all right to take a man's last dollar, but a breach of etiquette to take his last cigaret."

Tom Johnson claims that the oldest joke is the one about the Irish soldier who saw a shell coming and made a low bow. The shell missed him and took off the head of the man behind him. "Sure," said Pat, "ye never knew a man to lose anything by being polite."



EUROPEAN WAR

War is evidently a losing game when it takes a country forty-two years to pay for what she destroyed in a little more than four.

A dusky doughboy, burdened under tons of medals and miles and miles of ribbons, service and wound chevrons, stars et al., encountered a 27th Division scrapper in Le Mans a few days prior to the division's departure for the States.

"Whar yo' all ben scrappin' in dis yar war, boss?" meekly inquired the colored soldier.

"Why, we've been fighting up in Belgium and Flanders with the British," replied the New Yorker, proudly.

"Well, we ben down in dem woods—watcha call 'em woods 'way down south."

"The Argonne?" suggested young Knickerbocker.

"Yas, yas, dem's de woods—d'Argonne."

"You know our division was the first to break the Hindenburg line, colored boy," explained the 27th man.

"Was it you wot did dat trick? Y' know boss, we felt dat ol' line sag 'way down in d'Argonne."

WILLIS—"Did the war do anything for you?"

GILLIS—"Sure did. It taught me to save peach-stones, tin-foil, newspapers and all kinds of junk. In fact, I can now save anything except money."

Just before the St. Mihiel show the Germans blew up an ammunition dump near a company of Yanks. It was reported that there was a large quantity of gas shells in the dump, and as soon as the explosions began the Americans immediately made themselves scarce with great rapidity.

When the danger had passed all started drifting back with the exception of one man who did not appear till the next day.

"Well, where you been?" demanded the top kick, eyeing him coldly.

"Sergeant," replied the other earnestly, "I don't know where I been, but I give you my word I been all day gettin' back."

"Who won the war?" asked the bright young goof behind the soda-counter.

"Huh," ejaculated the ex-sergeant gruffly as he dug up the war-tax, "I think we bought it."

A librarian confides to us that she was visited by a young lady who wished to see a large map of France. She was writing a paper on the battle-fields of France for a culture club, and she just couldn't find Flanders Fields and No Man's Land on any of the maps in her books.

The trouble with the peace table is that the Allies want it a la carte, and Wilson wants it American plan—table d'hote.

See also Exaggeration; Heroes; Soldiers; War.



EUROPEAN WAR—POEMS

Gifts of the Dead

Ye who in Sorrow's tents abide, Mourning your dead with hidden tears, Bethink ye what a wealth of pride They've won you for the coming years.

Grievous the pain; but, in the day When all the cost is counted o'er, Would it be best that ye should say: "We lost no loved ones in the war?"

Who knows? But proud then shall ye stand That best, most honored boast to make: "My lover died for his dear land," Or, "My son fell for England's sake."

Christlike they died that we might live; And our redeemed lives would we bring, With aught that gratitude may give To serve you in your sorrowing.

And never a pathway shall ye tread, No foot of seashore, hill, or lea, But ye may think: "The dead, my dead, Gave this, a sacred gift, to me."

—Habberton Lulhaut.

The war is like the Judgment Day— All sham, all pretext torn away; And swift the searching hours reveal Hearts good as gold, souls true as steel. Blest saints and martyrs in disguise, Concealed ere-while from holden eyes.

And now we feel that all around Have angels walked the well-known ground; Not winged and strange beyond our ken, But in the form of common men. God's messengers from Heaven's own sphere— Unrecognized because so near.

—Ella Fuller Maitland.

For Thee They Died

For thee their pilgrim swords were tried, Thy flaming word was in their scrips, They battled, they endured, they died To make a new Apocalypse. Master and Maker, God of Right, The soldier dead are at thy gate, Who kept the spears of honor bright And freedom's house inviolate.

—John Drinkwater.

After-Days.

When the last gun has long withheld Its thunder, and its mouth is sealed, Strong men shall drive the furrow straight On some remembered battle-field.

Untroubled they shall hear the loud. And gusty driving of the rains, And birds with immemorial voice Sing as of old in leafy lanes.

The stricken, tainted soil shall be Again a flowery paradise— Pure with the memory of the dead And purer for their sacrifice.

—Eric Chilman.



EVIDENCE

An attorney was defending a man charged by his wife with desertion. For a time it looked as tho it were a cinch for the prosecution, but at the psychological moment the attorney called the defendant to the stand. "Take off that bandage," he cried, and the man did it, exposing a black eye. "Your honor," said the attorney, "our defense is that this man is not a deserter. He's a refugee."

The London police-sergeant raised his eyes from the blotter as two policemen propelled the resisting victim before him.

"A German spy, sir!" gasped the first bobby.

"I'm an American, and can prove it," denied the victim.

"That's what he says, but here's the evidence," interrupted the second bobby, triumphantly producing a bulky hotel-register from beneath his arm, and pointing to an entry.

"V. Gates," written in a flowing hand, was the record that met the astonished sergeant's gaze.

It happened in the court-room during the trial of a husky young man who was charged with assault and battery. Throughout an especially severe cross-examination the defendant stoutly maintained that he had merely pushed the plaintiff "a little bit."

"Well, about how hard?" queried the prosecutor.

"Oh, just a little bit," responded the defendant.

"Now," said the attorney, "for the benefit of the judge and the jury, you will please step down here and, with me for the subject, illustrate just how hard you mean."

Owing to the unmerciful badgering which the witness had just been through, the prosecutor thought that the young man would perhaps overdo the matter to get back at him, and thus incriminate himself.

The defendant descended as per schedule, and approached the waiting attorney. When he reached him the spectators were astonished to see him slap the lawyer in the face, kick him in the shins, seize him bodily, and, finally, with a supreme effort, lift him from the floor and hurl him prostrate across a table.

Turning from the bewildered prosecutor, he faced the court and explained mildly:

"Your honor and gentlemen, about one-tenth that hard!"

An aged negro was crossing-tender at a spot where an express train made quick work of a buggy and its occupants. Naturally he was the chief witness, and the entire case hinged upon the energy with which he had displayed his warning signal.

A gruelling cross-examination left Rastus unshaken in this story: The night was dark, and he had waved his lantern frantically, but the driver of the carriage paid no attention to it.

Later, the division superintendent called the flagman to his office to compliment him on the steadfastness with which he stuck to his story.

"You did wonderfully, Rastus," he said. "I was afraid at first you might waver in your testimony."

"Nossir, nossir," Rastus exclaimed, "but I done feared ev'ry minute that 'ere durn lawyer was gwine ter ask me if mah lantern was lit."—Puck.

During a suit to recover damages following an automobile collision in the Adirondacks, the complainant's attorney, a city lawyer, constantly hectored the defendant's principal witness, a rough old guide, but was unable to shake his testimony.

During cross-examination the guide mentioned "havin' come across the trail of a Ford." The city lawyer jumped at this chance to discredit the guide's evidence.

"Do you mean to tell this court," he demanded, "that you can determine the make of a car by studying its track? How did you know it was a Ford?"

"Well, sir," drawled the guide, "I followed its trail about a hundred yards and found a Ford at the end of it."

The magistrate looked severely at the small, red-faced man who had been summoned before him, and who returned his gaze without flinching.

"So you kicked your landlord downstairs?" queried the magistrate. "Did you imagine that was within the right of a tenant?"

"I'll bring my lease in and show it to you," said the little man, growing redder, "and I'll wager you'll agree with me that anything they've forgotten to prohibit in that lease I had a right to do the very first chance I got."

"As a matter of fact," said the lawyer for the defendant, trying to be sarcastic, "you were scared half to death, and don't know whether it was a motor-car or something resembling a motor-car that hit you."

"It resembled one all right," the plaintiff made answer. "I was forcibly struck by the resemblance."

A religious worker was visiting a Southern penitentiary, when one prisoner in some way took his fancy. This prisoner was a negro, who evinced a religious fervour as deep as it was gratifying to the caller.

"Of what were you accused?" the prisoner was asked.

"Dey says I took a watch," answered the negro. "I made a good fight. I had a dandy lawyer, an' he done prove an alibi wif ten witnesses. Den my lawyer he shore made a strong speech to de jury. But it wa'n't no use, sah; I gets ten years."

"I don't see why you were not acquitted," said the religious worker.

"Well, sah," explained the prisoner, "dere was shore one weak spot 'bout my defence—dey found de watch in my pocket."

Some time ago an elderly gentleman walking along the street saw a little girl crying bitterly. Instantly his heart softened and he stopped to soothe her.

"What is the matter, little girl," he kindly asked; "are you hurt?"

"No, sir," responded the child as her sobbing increased in volume, "I lost my nickel!"

"There! There!" gently returned the kind-hearted citizen, digging into his pocket. "Don't cry any more. Here is your nickel."

"Why, you wicked man!" exclaimed the little girl, seizing the coin and glaring at the donor with flashing eyes. "You had it all the time!"

GRAMERCY—"Why don't you have your old car repainted?"

PARK—"Wouldn't think of such a thing. It's been stolen a dozen times and has the finest collection of fingerprints you ever saw."

A witness in a railroad case at Fort Worth, asked to tell in his own way how the accident happened, said:

"Well, Ole and I was walking down the track, and I heard a whistle, and I got off the track, and the train went by, and I got back on the track, and I didn't see Ole; but I walked along, and pretty soon I seen Ole's hat, and I walked on, and seen one of Ole's legs, and then I seen one of Ole's arms, and then another leg, and then over one side Ole's head, and I says, 'My God! Something muster happen to Ole!'"

Facts are stubborn things.—Smollett.

See also Witnesses.



EXAGGERATION

A War Lexicon

In a letter to the editor of the New York Sun an anonymous writer gives the following important interpretations of various phrases of "Desperanto," or the language indulged in by frantic telegraph editors on American newspapers:

Terrific Slaughter—Sixteen French and seventeen Germans wounded.

Hurled Back—The withdrawal of an advanced outpost.

Thousands of Prisoners—Three German farmers arrested.

Deadly Air Battle—French aeroplane seen in the distance.

Gigantic Army of Invasion—Two troops of cavalry on a reconnaissance.

Overwhelming Force—A sergeant and a detail of twelve men.

Fierce Naval Battle—Mysterious sounds heard at sea.

Americans Outrageously Maltreated—One American asked to explain why his trunk contained maps of German roads.

Bottled Up—A fleet at anchor.

Trapped—An army in camp.

Rout—An orderly retreat.

Heroism—A failure of soldiers to run away in the face of danger.

Decisive Conflict—A skirmish of outposts.

A man with a look of business on his face came to a hotel-keeper, and asked him if he would buy two carloads of frogs' legs.

"Two carloads!" said the man in amazement. "Why, I could not use them in twenty years!"

"Well, will you buy a carload?"

"No."

"Twenty or thirty bushels?"

"No."

"Twenty or thirty dozens?"

"No."

"Two dozen?"

"Yes."

A few days later the man returned with three pairs of legs. "Is that all?" asked the landlord.

"Yes; the fact is that I live near a pond, and the frogs made so much noise that I thought there were millions of them. But I dragged the pond with a seine, drained it and raked it, and there were only three frogs in the whole place."—Life.

A certain young society man was much given to telling exaggerated stories and was rapidly gaining a reputation for untruthfulness which worried his friends and particularly his chum, who remonstrated with him and threatened to disown him if he did not mend his ways.

"Charlie," said he, "you must stop this big story business of yours or you are going to lose me as a friend. Nobody believes a word you say, and you are getting to be a laughing-stock."

Charlie admitted that he was aware of the fact but complained that he could not overcome his fault, try as he would. He suggested that had he but somebody beside him when he started to elaborate upon his tale, to tread on his foot, he was sure he could break the habit.

A few days later they were invited to a dinner party and his chum agreed to sit next to Charlie and step on his toe if he went too far. All went well until the subject of travel was brought up. One of the company told of an immense building that he had seen when on a trip up the Nile. This started Charlie, who at once began to describe a remarkable building he had seen while on a hunting trip on the northern border of India.

"It was one of the most remarkable buildings, I presume, in the world," said he. "Its dimensions we found to be three miles in length, two miles in height, and"—as his watchful friend trod on his toe—"two feet wide."

The old sea captain was smoking comfortably by his fireside when Jack, his sailor son, burst in upon him.

"Weather too rough," explained the son, "so we've put in for the day."

"Too rough!" exclaimed Mr. Tar, with visions of his own days at sea. "Why, sir, I was once sailing round the Cape when a storm came on, and it blew down the main-mast and the mizzen-mast was swept away, but we didn't even think of putting in."

"Well, you see," exclaimed the son, "this storm was so bad that it blew the anchors off the captain's buttons, took the paint off the ship's bows and—"

"Stop!" cried the old man. "You do me credit, Jack—you do me credit!"



EXAMINATIONS

PROF—"A fool can ask more questions than a wise man can answer."

STUDE—"No wonder so many of us flunk in our exams!"



EXCUSES

In a Canadian camp somewhere in England a second George Washington has been found. He, in company with several others, had been granted four days' leave, and, as usual, wired for extension. But no hackneyed excuse was his. In fact, it was so original that it has been framed and now hangs in a prominent spot in the battalion orderly-room. It ran as follows:

"Nobody dead, nobody ill; still going strong, having a good time, and got plenty of money. Please grant extension."

And he got it!

FIRST OFFICER—"Did you get that fellow's number?"

SECOND OFFICER—"No; he was going too fast."

FIRST OFFICER—"Say, that was a fine-looking dame in the car."

SECOND OFFICER—"Wasn't she?"—Puck.

TED—"Pity the rain spoiled the game today."

NED—"But you got a check didn't you?"

TED—"Yes, but to get off I had to use up the best excuse I ever had in my life."—Judge.

Johnny B——, who has seen eight summers go by, not very long ago developed a fondness for playing hooky from school. After two or three offenses of this kind he was taken to task by his teacher.

"Johnny," she said, "the next time you are absent I want you to bring me an excuse from your father telling me why you were not here."

"I don't want to bring an excuse from my father," protested the boy.

"Why not?" asked the teacher, her suspicion plain.

"'Cause father isn't any good at making excuses."

In his Savannah camp Bill Donovan, baseball manager, had a dusky-hued waiter at the hotel by the name of Sutton. Bill had to reproach Sutton more than once for a lack of agility in arriving with the food. Sutton promised to improve. One morning he brought in a consignment of griddle-cakes that had gone cold.

"What do you mean," said Bill, "by bringing me in cold cakes?"

"Well, I'll tell you, boss," said Sutton. "I brung them cakes in so fast that I guess they hit a draft."

A country school-master had two pupils, to one of whom he was partial, and to the other severe. One morning it happened that these two boys were late, and were called up to account for it.

"You must have heard the bell, boys; why did you not come?"

"Please, sir," said the favorite, "I was dreaming that I was going to Margate, and I thought the school-bell was the steam-boat-bell."

"Very well," said the master, glad of any pretext to excuse his favorite. "And now, sir," turning to the other, "What have you to say?"

"Please, sir," said the puzzled boy, "I—I—was waiting to see Tom off!"

"Waiter, bring me two fried eggs, some ham, a cup of coffee, and a roll," said the first "commercial."

"Bring me the same," said his friend, "but eliminate the eggs."

"Yessir."

In a moment the waiter came back, leaned confidentially and penitently over the table, and whispered:

"We 'ad a bad accident just before we opened this mornin', sir, and the 'andle of the 'liminator got busted off. Will you take yer heggs fried, same as this 'ere gentleman?"



EXECUTIVE ABILITY

Executive ability has been variously defined, but the following from an executive with a sense of humor seems to cover the whole subject. He said: "Executive ability is the ability to hire someone to do work for which you will get the credit, and, if there is a slip-up, having someone at whose door to lay the blame."

Qualifications for an Executive

To do the right thing, at the right time, in the right way. To do some things better than they were done before. To eliminate errors. To know both sides of a question. To be courteous. To set an example. To work for the love of work. To anticipate requirements. To develop resources. To master circumstances. To act from reason rather than from rule. To be satisfied with nothing short of perfection.—H. Gordon Selfridge.



EXPENSES

A story is told about a citizen whose daughter is about to be married, and who has been trying to get a line on what the expense of the rather elaborate ceremony will be. He approached a friend of his, seeking information.

"Morris," he said, "your oldest daughter was married about five years ago, wasn't she? Would you mind telling me about how much the wedding cost you?"

"Not at all, Sam," was the answer. "Altogether, about five thousand dollars a year."

Here is a story of the late Lord Haversham's schooldays. Glancing through his pocket book his mother saw a number of entries of small sums, ranging from 2s. 6d. to 5s., against which were the letters "P.G." Thinking this must mean the Propagation of the Gospel, she asked her son why he did not give a lump sum and a larger amount to so deserving a cause.

"That is not for the Propagation of the Gospel," he replied. "When I cannot remember exactly on what I spend the money I put 'P.G.,' which means 'Probably grub.'"

"Don't you find it hard these times to meet expenses?"

"Hard? Man alive! I meet expenses at every turn."



EXPERIENCE

"Did you ever realize anything on that investment?"

"Oh, yes."

"What did you realize on it?"

"What a fool I had been."

It is as easy to buy experience as it is difficult to sell it.

"Have you ever had any experience in handling high-class ware?" asked a dealer in bric-a-brac of an applicant for work.

"No, sir," was the reply, "but I think I can do it."

"Suppose," said the dealer, "you accidentally broke a very valuable porcelain vase, what would you do?"

"I should put it carefully together," replied the man, "and set it where a wealthy customer would be sure to knock it over again."

"Consider yourself engaged," said the dealer. "Now, tell me where you learned that trick of the trade."

"A few years ago," answered the other, "I was one of the 'wealthy-customer' class."

Experience is a dead loss if you can't sell it for more than it cost.

Experience converts us to ourselves when books fail us.—A. Bronson Alcott.

I know The past and thence I will essay to glean A warning for the future, so that man May profit by his errors, and derive Experience from his folly; For, when the power of imparting joy Is equal to the will, the human soul Requires no other heaven.

—Shelley.



EXTRAVAGANCE

"What made you a multi-millionaire?"

"My wife."

"Ah, her tactful help—"

"Nothing like that. I was simply curious to know if there was any income she couldn't live beyond."

The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay, Provides a home from which to run away.

—Young.



FAILURES

BROWN—"Back to town again? I thought you were a farmer."

GREEN—"You made the same mistake I did."—Judge.

There are people who fail because they are afraid to make a beginning. Who are too honest to steal, but will borrow and never pay back. Who go to bed tired because they spend the day in looking for an easy place. Who can play a tune on one string, but it never makes anybody want to dance. Who would like to reform the world, but have a front gate that won't stay shut. Who cannot tell what they think about anything until they see what the papers have to say about it.

A first failure is often a blessing.—A. L. Brown.

To fail at all is to fail utterly.—Lowell.

He only is exempt from failures who makes no efforts.—Whately.



FAME

After an absence of four years a certain man went back to visit his old home town. The first four people he met didn't remember him and the next three didn't know he had been away.

"That antagonist of yours says he is going to leave footprints in the sands of time."

"He won't," replied Senator Sorghum. "His mind is in the clouds. He is an intellectual aviator. When he comes down he will leave a dent, not a footprint."

Nor fame I slight, nor for her favors call: She comes unlooked for, if she comes at all.

—Pope.

For what is fame, but the benignant strength of one, transformed to joy of many?—George Eliot.

Fame is the fragrance of heroic deeds.—Longfellow.



FAMILIES

A Kansas man is reported to be the father of thirty-two children. It is not known whether he will apply for admission to the League of Nations or just let America represent him for the present.—Punch (London).

A census-taker was working in lower New York on the East Side, and came to a tenement that was literally crowded with children. To the woman who was bending over the washtub he said:

"Madam, I am the census-taker; how many children have you?"

"Well, lemme see," replied the woman, as she straightened up and wiped her hands on her apron. "There's Mary and Ellen and Delia and Susie and Emma and Tommy and Albert and Eddie and Charlie and Frank and—"

"Madam," interrupted the census man, "if you could just give me the number—"

"Number!" she exclaimed, indignantly. "I want you to understand that we ain't got to numberin' 'em yet. We ain't run out o' names!"

The census man when taking the census in a certain Canadian town asked of the head of the family the usual questions, one being, "How many children have you?"

The man answered, "Oh, I don't know, ten, twelve, fourteen or so. I know a barrel of flour lasts pretty damn quick."

See also Bluffing.



FARMING

"It used to be said that anybody could farm—that about all that was required was a strong back and a weak mind," mused the gaunt Missourian. "But now'-days, to be a successful farmer a feller must have a good head and a wide education in order to understand the advice ladled out to him from all sides by city men and to select for use that which will do him the least damage."

PROFESSOR AT AGRICULTURAL SCHOOL—"What kinds of farming are there?"

NEW STUDENT—"Extensive, intensive, and pretensive."

They were having an argument as to whether it was correct to say of a hen she is "setting" or "sitting," and, not being able to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion, they decided to submit the problem to Farmer Giles.

"My friends," said he, "that don't interest me at all. What I wants to know when I hear a hen cackle is whether she be laying or lying."

"How many head o' live stock you got on the place?"

"Live stock?" echoed the somewhat puzzled farmer. "What d' ye mean by live stock? I got four steam-tractors and sevenautomobiles."—Judge.

The city youth secured a job with Farmer Jones. The morning after his arrival, promptly at 4 o'clock, the farmer rapped on his door and told him to get up. The youth protested.

"What for?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Why, we're going to cut oats," replied the farmer.

"Are they wild oats," queried the youth, "that you've got to sneak up on 'em in the dark?"

"Aren't you afraid America will become isolated?"

"Not if us farmers keep raisin' things the world needs," answered Farmer Corntossel, "The feller that rings the dinner-bell never runs much risk of bein' lonesome."

"How'd that city hired man of yours pan out?"

"Well, he started in Monday morning plowing corn. At 10 o'clock he struck for a helper to lift the gangs out at the ends, and I sent the kid out to do that. At noon he struck for two pieces of strawberry shortcake instead of one, so I gave him my piece. At 1:15 he struck for a sunshade on the corn plow. I says, 'Young man, this job is just like a baseball game. Three strikes and you're out, Good-bye.'"

A rather patronizing individual from town was observing with considerable interest the operations of a farmer with whom he had put up for a while.

As he watched the old man sow the seed in his field the man from the city called out facetiously:

"Well done, old chap. You sow; I reap the fruits."

Whereupon the farmer grinned and replied:

"Maybe you will. I am sowing hemp."

See also Failures.



FASHION

"Isn't your wife dogmatic?"

"She was when Pomeranian pups were the style, but now she's auto-matic."

The fashion wears out more apparel than the man.—Shakespeare.

"Women have queer ways."

"How now?"

"The styles call for mannish hats. So my wife bought a mannish hat for eighteen dollars."

"Well?"

"She could have bought a man's hat for four dollars."

Women's fashions seem to be working around to the point where the voice with the smile will have to be listed among the latest spring styles.

The intrepid general was rallying her wavering female troops.

"Women," she cried, "will you give way to mannish fears?"

A muffled murmur of indecision ran through the ranks.

"Shall it be said we are clothed in male armor?" shrieked the general.

The murmur became a mumble.

"Will you," fiercely demanded the general, "show the white feather in a season when feathers are not worn?"

The effect was electrical.

"Never!" roared the soldiers. And, forming into battle array, they once more hurled themselves upon the enemy.

"You criticize us," said the Chinese visitor, "yet I see all your women have their feet bandaged."

"That is an epidemic," it was explained to him, gently, "which broke out in 1914. Those are called spats."

Little Tommy at the "movies" saw a tribe of Indians painting their faces, and asked his mother the significance of this.

"Indians," his mother answered, "always paint their faces before going on the war-path—before scalping and tomahawking and murdering."

The next evening after dinner, as the mother entertained in the parlor her daughter's young man, Tommy rushed downstairs, wide-eyed with fright.

"Come on, mother!" he cried. "Let's get out of this quick! Sister is going on the war-path!"

Mrs. Will Irwin said at a Washington Square tea:

"The more immodest fashions would disappear if men would resolutely oppose them.

"I know a woman whose dressmaker sent home the other day a skirt that was, really, too short altogether. The woman put it on. It was becoming enough, dear knows, but it made her feel ashamed. She entered the library, and her husband looked up from his work with a dark frown.

"'I wonder,' she said, with an embarrassed laugh, 'if these ultra-short skirts will ever go out?'

"'They'll never go out with me,' he answered in decided tones."

Those reform preachers who designed the moral gown for women did a good job. Now to design a woman who will wear it.

FAIR CUSTOMER (to salesman displaying modern bathing suit)—"And you're sure this bathing suit won't shrink?"

SALESMAN—"No, miss; it has nowhere to shrink to."

POLICEMAN—"Lost yer mammy, 'ave yer? Why didn't yer keep hold of her skirt?"

LITTLE ALFRED—"I cou—cou—couldn't reach it."

When ladies wore their dresses very low and very short, a wit observed that "they began too late and ended too soon."

FAIR CUSTOMER—"I'd like to try on that one over there."

SALESMAN—"I'm sorry, madam, but that is the lampshade."

The Fifth Avenue Bus having stopped, the lady at the top of the stairs was slow in descending. "Come on down, lady," said the conductor in a bored tone, "legs ain't no treat to me."



FATE

All human things are subject to decay, And when fate summons, monarchs must obey.

—Dryden.

All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time: Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme.

—Longfellow.

Fate holds the strings, and Men like Children, move But as they're led: Success is from above.

—Lord Lansdowne.

One ship drives east, and another west With the self-same winds that blow; 'Tis the set of the sails And not the gales Which decide the way to go.

Like the winds of the sea are the ways of fate As we voyage along through life; 'Tis the will of the soul That decides its goal, And not the calm or the strife.



FATHERS

"Dad," said a Bartlesville, Okla., kid to his father the other night, "I want to go to the show tonight."

"A show at night is no place for a kid like you. You should be at home in bed."

"But I peddled bills and have two tickets," said the kid, as he began to sniffle.

"All right then," answered dad. "I will go with you to see that you don't get into trouble."

Johnnie Jones was doing penance in the corner. Presently he thought aloud pensively:

"I can't help it if I am not perfect," he sighed. "I have only heard of one perfect boy in my whole life."

"Who was that?" his father asked, thinking to point out a moral.

"You," came the reply, plaintively, "when you were little."

His Example

There are little eyes upon you, and they're watching night and day; There are little ears that quickly take in every word you say; There are little hands all eager to do everything you do, And a little boy that's dreaming of the day he'll be like you.

You're the little fellow's idol, you're the wisest of the wise; In his little mind about you no suspicions ever rise; He believes in you devoutly, holds that all you say and do He will say and do in your way when he's grown up just like you.

Oh, it sometimes makes me shudder when I hear my boy repeat Some careless phrase I've uttered in the language of the street; And it sets my heart to grieving when some little fault I see And I know beyond all doubting that he picked it up from me.

There's a wide-eyed little fellow who believes you're always right, And his ears are always open and he watches day and night. You are setting an example every day in all you do For the little boy who's waiting to grow up to be like you.

"Now, there's some talk of a Father's Day."

"Oh, father doesn't want a day. Give him a night off."

"I was never so tired in my life. I've had a perfectly awful day. But I got Father home safely, and that's something. It was his annual day to be a boy again, to be a regular pal to me, as he likes to express it. So I have been out in the woods with him.

"I inferred from his remarks when he invited me to go that he intended to win my confidence and help me in my troubles. But by noon he had broken his glasses, worn blisters on both heels, scraped his shins, lost his new fishing reel, sunk a rowboat, scalded his mouth, burned his bald spot in the sun and torn the seat out of his trousers, so I think he must have postponed whatever he had to say of an intimate nature.

"If writers and lecturers only knew the suffering they bring to impressionable parents by goading them into trying to be their boys' chums they certainly would cease their efforts out of sheer pity."



FAULTS

"Everybody has his faults," said Uncle Eben. "De principal difference in folks is whether dey's sorry for 'em or proud of 'em."

It is so easy to find fault that self-respecting persons ought to be ashamed to waste their energies in that way.

It only takes a few minutes to find in others the faults we can't discover in ourselves in a lifetime.

A widely known Highland drover sold a horse to an Englishman.

A few days afterward the buyer returned to him.

"You said that horse had no faults."

"Well, no mair had he."

"He's nearly blind!" said the indignant Englishman.

"Why, mon, that's no' his fau't—that's his misfortune."



FEES

See Tips.



FICTION

The husband was seeing his beloved wife off for a holiday. "Maggie, dear," he said, "hadn't you better take some fiction with you to while away the time?"

"Oh, no, George," she said, "you'll be sending me some letters."



FIGHTING

"Brudder Perkins, yo' been fightin', I heah," said the colored minister.

"Yaas, Ah wuz."

"Doan yo' 'membeh whut de good book sez 'bout turnin' de odder cheek?"

"Yaas, pahson, but he hit me on mah nose, an' I'se only got one."

"Why do you look so sorrowful, Dennis?" asked one man of another.

"I just hear-r-d wan man call another man a liar, and the man that was called a liar said the other man would have to apologize, or there would be a fight."

"And why should that make you so sad?"

"The other man apologized."

"Johnny, it was very wrong for you and the boy next door to fight."

"We couldn't help it, father."

"Could you not have settled your differences by a peaceful discussion of the matter, calling in the assistance of unprejudiced opinion, if need be?"

"No, father. He was sure he could whip me and I was sure I could whip him, and there was only one way to find out."

"So you've been fighting again! Didn't you stop and spell your names, as I told you?"

"Y-yes; we did—but my name's Algernon Percival, an' his is Jim!"—Judge.



FINANCE

"Dad," said little Reginald, "what is a bucket-shop?"

"A bucket-shop, my son," said the father, feelingly, "a bucket-shop is a modern cooperage establishment to which a man takes a barrel and brings back the bung-hole."—Puck.

"Dad," said the financier's son, running into his father's office, "lend me six hundred."

"What for, my boy?"

"I've got a sure tip on the market."

"How much shall we make out of it?" asked the old man cautiously.

"A couple of hundred sure," replied the boy eagerly. "That's a hundred each."

"Here's your hundred," said his father. "Let's consider that we have made this deal and that it has succeeded. You make a hundred dollars and I save five hundred."

Higher Authority

"Mr. Brown is outside," said the new office-boy. "Shall I show him in?".

"Not on your life!" exclaimed the junior partner. "I owe him ten dollars."

"Show him in," calmly said the senior member of the firm. "He owes me twenty-five."

BUSINESS MAN (explaining)—"When they say 'money is easy,' they mean simply that the supply is greater than the demand."

HIS WIFE—"Goodness! I shouldn't think such a thing possible."

SMITHSON—"Do you know that Noah was the greatest financier that ever lived?"

DIBBS—"How do you make that out?"

SMITHSON—"Well, he was able to float a company when the whole world was in liquidation."

"This car cost me thirty-five hundred dollars, Blathers, but I'll let you have it for two thousand, eh? It's a clean gift of fifteen hundred," said Bolivar. "Eh, what do you say?"

"No," said Blathers, "I can't do that; but suppose you give me five hundred dollars and keep the car, eh? Clean saving of a thousand, eh? What?"

The present financial situation gives the lie to the old adage that Exchange is no robbery.

The man who had made a huge fortune was speaking a few words to a number of students at a business class. Of course, the main theme of his address was himself.

"All my success in life, all my tremendous financial prestige," he said proudly, "I owe to one thing alone—pluck, pluck, pluck!"

He made an impressive pause here but the effect was ruined by one student, who asked impressively:

"Yes, sir; but how are we to find the right people to pluck?"

A young New Haven man, returning home from a health trip to Colorado, told his father about buying a silver mine for $3,000. "I knew they'd rope you in!" exclaimed the old man. "So you were ass enough to buy a humbug mine."

"Yes, but I didn't lose anything. I formed a company, and sold half the stock to a Connecticut man for $7,000."

"Y-you did," gasped the old man as he turned white, "I'll bet I'm the one who bought it."

"I know you are," coolly observed the young man as he crossed his legs and tried to appear very much at home.



FISH

The teacher asked, "Who can tell me what an oyster is?"

A small hand, gesticulating violently, shot up into the air, and a shrill voice called out. "I know; I can tell, teacher!"

"Well, Bobby," said the teacher, "you may tell us what an oyster is."

"An oyster," triumphantly answered Bobby, "is a fish built like a nut!"

"Dinah, did you wash the fish before you baked it?"

"Law, ma'am, what's de use ob washin' er fish what's lived all his life in de water?"

"Ma'am, here's a man at the door with a parcel for you."

"What is it, Bridget?"

"It's a fish, ma'am, and it's marked C.O.D."

"Then make the man take it back to the dealer. I ordered trout."



FISHERMEN

"I say, Gadsby," said Mr. Smith, as he entered a fishmonger's with a lot of tackle in his hand, "I want you to give me some fish to take home with me. Put them up to look as if they'd been caught today, will you?"

"Certainly, sir. How many?"

"Oh, you'd better give me three or four—mackerel. Make it look decent in quantity without appearing to exaggerate, you know."

"Yes, sir. You'd better take salmon, tho."

"Why? What makes you think so?"

"Oh, nothing, except that your wife was here early this morning and said if you dropped in with your fishing-tackle I was to persuade you to take salmon, if possible, as she liked that kind better than any other."

BELLEVILLE—"Is Glenshaw getting ready for the fishing season?"

BUTLER—"Well, I saw him buying an enlarging device for his camera."

A returned vacationist tells us that he was fishing in a pond one day when a country boy who had been watching him from a distance approached him and asked. "How many fish yer got, mister?"

"None yet," he was told.

"Well, yer ain't doin' so bad," said the youngster. "I know a feller what fished here for two weeks an' he didn't get any more than you got in half an hour."

Jock MacTavish and two English friends went out on the loch on a fishing-trip, and it was agreed that the first man to catch a fish should later stand treat at the inn. As MacTavish was known to be the best fisherman thereabouts, his friends took considerable delight in assuring him that he had as good as lost already.

"An', d'ye ken," said Jock, in speaking of it afterward, "baith o' them had a guid bite, an' wis sae mean they wadna' pu in."

"Then you lost?" asked the listener.

"Oh, no. I didna' pit ony bait on my hook."



FISHING

UNLUCKY FISHERMAN—"Boy, will you sell that big string of fish you are carrying?"

BOY—"No, but I'll take yer pitcher holdin' it fer fifty cents."—Judge.

Two small boys went fishing and while one of them was having good luck, the other didn't even get a bite. The unlucky lad silently began to make preparation for departure. "Aw, wait a while," urged the other. "You might be lucky if you keep at it."

"There ain't no use," was the disgusted reply, "my darned worm ain't tryin'."

"Some men," said Uncle Eben, "goes fishin' not so much foh de sake of de fish as foh de chance to loaf without bein' noticed."



FLATTERY

The man who is not injured by flattery is as hard to find as the one who is improved by criticism.

Flattery is a sort of moral peroxide—it turns many a woman's head.

"Oi hate flattery," said O'Brien the other day. "Flattery makes ye think ye are betther than ye are, an' no man livin' can iver be that."

THE CONVERSATIONALIST (to well-known author)—"I'm so delighted to meet you! It was only the other day I saw something of yours, about something or other, in some magazine."

WILBUR (indicating a couple in the background)—"Funny that such a stunning-looking woman should marry such a dub as that."

FLATTE—"Well, I don't know. No accounting for those things. Now, you take your wife—she's a ripper."—Life.

The admiration which Bob felt for his Aunt Margaret included all her attributes.

"I don't care much for plain teeth like mine, Aunt Margaret," said Bob, one day, after a long silence, during which he had watched her in laughing conversation with his mother. "I wish I had some copper-toed ones like yours."

A gentleman who discovered that he was standing on a lady's train had the presence of mind to remark:

"Tho I may not have the power to draw an angel from the skies, I have pinned one to the earth." The lady excused him.

"Sir," said the angry woman, "I understand you said I had a face that would stop a street-car in the middle of the block."

"Yes, that's what I said," calmly answered the mere man.

"It takes an unusually handsome face to induce a motorman to make a stop like that."



FOOD

DINER—"See here, where are those oysters I ordered on the half shell?"

WAITER—"Don't get impatient, sah. We're dreffle short on shells; but you're next, sah."

During a particularly nasty dust-storm at one of the camps a recruit ventured to seek shelter in the sacred precincts of the cook's domain.

After a time he broke an awkward silence by saying to the cook:

"If you'd put the lid on that camp-kettle you would not get so much of the dust in your soup."

The irate cook glared at the intruder, and then broke out: "See here, me lad. Your business is to serve your country."

"Yes," interrupted the recruit, "but not to eat it."

It was a small cafe and the customer overheard this from the waiter:

"Don't throw that toast into the alley, chef. I gotta customer for a club sandwich."

WAITER—"And will you take the macaroni au gratin, sir?"

OFFICER—"No macaroni-by gad! It's too doocid difficult to mobilize."

The second course of the table d'hote was being served.

"What is this leathery stuff?" demanded the diner.

"That, sir, is filet of sole," replied the waiter.

"Take it away," said the diner, "and see if you can't get me a nice, tender piece from the upper part of the boot."

The new boarder sniffed at the contents of his coffee-cup and set it down.

"Well," queried the landlady in a peevish tone, "have you anything to say against the coffee?"

"Not a word," he answered. "I never speak ill of the absent."

An attendant entered carrying a thin red object.

"Did any patient order a postage stamp?"

"Maybe," said one feebly, "that's my mutton chop rare."

"Are caterpillars good to eat?" asked little Tommy at the dinner table.

"No," said his father; "what makes you ask a question like that while we are eating?"

"You had one on your lettuce, but it's gone now," replied Tommy.



FOOD CONSERVATION

"Well, Ezri, how'd jer make out with yer boarders this year?"

"Fine! Best season I ever had. There was seven, all told—three couples in love an' a dyspeptic."—Life.

The boarders were dropping hints as to the kind of dinner they'd like to have on Christmas Day. But the landlady was astute. "What's the difference," she asked the solemn man at the end of the table, "between a turkey dinner and a mess of stewed prunes?"

"I don't know," he answered, suspicious of some entangling conundrum.

"Does nobody know?" she asked, looking round the table.

They all professed ignorance. "In that case," she said, "I may as well serve prunes at Christmas and save money."



FOOLS

"Did you really call this gentleman an old fool last night?" asked the judge.

The prisoner tried hard to collect his thoughts.

"Well, the more I look at him, the more likely it seems that I did," he replied.

A fool must now and then be right by chance.—Cowper.

Fools, to talking ever prone, Are sure to make their follies known.

—Gay.

He explained it clearly to her: "Wise men hesitate, you see. None but fools will say they're certain."

"Are you sure of that?" said she.

"Yes," he answered, "I am certain—certain as can be of that"

Then he wondered just what she was laughing at.

Two Hebrews went in business together in a small town, and one went to New York to buy the goods, while the other stayed at home. The one that stayed at home got the bills a few days after his partner was in New York. The bills came as follows: "24 doz. neckwear and 8 doz. ditto; 24 suits and 4 ditto; 18 pants and 12 ditto." This ditto part bothered the one at home and he telegraphed his brother to come home. When his brother arrived he showed him the bills and said:

"Vat do it mean you shall buy ditto for a closing (clothing) business?"

His brother said: "I buy ditto?"

"Yes, here's de bills."

"Vell, dey stuck me in New York."

So he returned to New York and found that ditto meant the same. He came back home, and his brother meeting him at the depot said:

"Vell, Abie, did you find out vat ditto is?"

And Abie said: "Yes, I find out vat a ditto is—I'm a d—m fool and you're a ditto."

RAYMOND—"What the deuce do you mean by telling Joan that I am a fool?"

GEORGE—"Heavens! I'm sorry—was it a secret?"

Fools never understand people of wit.—Vauvenargues.

LEA—"I wonder if Professor Kidder meant anything by it?"

PERKINS—"By what?"

LEA—"He advertised a lecture on 'Fools,' and when I bought a ticket it was marked 'Admit one.'"



FORDS

"So you bought one of those automobiles they tell so many funny stories about?"

"Yes," replied Mr. Chuggins. "And it is saving me a lot of trouble and wear and tear. When your friends tell you jokes about your car they don't expect you to ask them to ride in it."

If—With Apologies to Kipling

If you can keep your Ford when those about you are selling theirs and buying Cadillacs; if you can just be tickled all to pieces when notified to pay your license-tax; if you can feel a quiet sense of pleasure when driving on a rough and hilly road, and never move a muscle of your visage when underneath you hear a tire explode; if you can plan a pleasant week-end journey and tinker at your car a day or so, then thrill with joy on that eventful morning to find no skill of yours can make it go; if you can gather up your wife and children, put on your glad rags, and start off for church, then have to wade around in greasy gearings and spoil the best of all your stock of shirts, yet through it all maintain that sweet composure, that gentle calm befitting such events; if you can sound a bugle-note of triumph when steering straight against a picket-fence; if you can keep your temper, tongue, and balance when on your back beneath your car you pose, and, struggling there to fix a balky cog-wheel, you drop a monkey-wrench across your nose; if you can smile as gasoline goes higher, and sing a song because your motor faints—your place is not with common erring mortals; your home is over there among the saints!—J. Edward Tufft.

It is admittedly difficult to recover a lost flivver. But the best suggestion comes from our own Mrs. Eckstrom, who advises an ad.: "Lizzie, come home; all is forgiven."

"Why are school-teachers like Ford cars?"

"Because they give the most service for the least money."—Life.

"Yes, indeed," argues the Ford salesman, "this little car is a great investment. You put a few dollars into a Ford and right away it runs into thousands."

A flivver in Newton, Kan., broke the arms of four persons who attempted to crank it in less than a week. That's what comes of crossing a bicycle with a mule.

Lew McCall says that motorists who come through Columbus en route for Kansas City have about the following conversations when they stop at the filling station here:

If it's a Cadillac, the driver says: "How far is it to Kansas City?" "One hundred forty miles," is the reply. "Gimme twenty gallons of gas and a gallon of oil," says the driver. Then comes a Buick and the chauffeur says: "How far is it to Kansas City?" "One hundred forty miles." "Gimme ten gallons of gas and a half-gallon of oil." and he drives on. Along comes a flivver and the driver uncranks himself, gets out and stretches, and asks: "How far is it to Kansas City?" "Oh, about one hundred forty miles." "Is that all? Gimme two quarts of water and a bottle of 3 in 1, and hold this son-of-a-gun until I get in."

Possibly the apex of sarcasm or something was reached the other day when Jones took his flivver to a repair shop and asked the man there what was the best thing to do with it.

The repair-man looked the car over in silence for several minutes, after which he grasped the horn and tooted it. "You've a good horn there," he remarked, quietly. "Suppose you jack it up and run a new car under it?"

A Gentleman who was visiting his lawyer for the purpose of making his will, insisted that a final request be attached to the document. The request was, that his Ford car be buried with him after he died. His lawyer tried to make him see how absurd this was, but failed, so he asked the gentleman's wife to use her influence with him. She did the best she could, but she also failed.

"Well, John," she said finally, "tell me why you want your Ford car buried with you?"

"Because I have never gotten into a hole yet but what my Ford could pull me out," was the reply.

Young lady on a country road in a Ford car which has bucked and refuses to move, asks a farmer who is plowing in an adjoining field—"Do you know anything about a Ford?"

"Nope—nuthin' except a lot of stories, ma'am—giddap."



FOREIGNERS

TEACHER—"Who was the first man?"

HEAD SCHOLAR—"Washington; he was first in war, first in—"

TEACHER—"No, no; Adam was the first man."

HEAD SCHOLAR-"Oh! if you're talking of foreigners, I s'pose he was."



FORESIGHT

"Are you going to pay any attention to these epithets that are being hurled at you?"

"Yes, indeed," answered Senator Sorghum. "I'm having them all carefully copied and filed away. I may need them when it comes my turn to call names."

"Now, then, my hearties," said the gallant captain, "you have a tough battle before you. Fight like heroes till your powder is gone; then run. I'm a little lame, and I'll start now."



FORGETFULNESS

See Memory.



FORTUNE HUNTERS

"This bill was innocent on its face, but beneath there lurked a most sinister significance."

The speaker, Senator Clarke, was discussing in Little Rock a measure of which he disapproved.

"The bill reminded me, in fact," he said, "of a Little Rock, urchin's question. His question, innocent enough in appearance, dear knows, was this:

"'Would you mind making a noise like a frog, uncle?'"

"'And why,' said the uncle, with an amused smile, 'why, Tommy, do you desire me to make a noise like a frog?'"

"'Because,' replied the urchin, 'whenever I ask daddy to buy me anything he always says, 'Wait till your uncle croaks.'"

"Here's poetic justice for you. One of these oil-stock promoters married a woman for her money."

"Yes?"

"Only to discover that she had invested it all in his oil stock."

"I wanted the gold, and I sought it; I scrabbled and munched like a slave. Was it famine or scurvy—I fought it; I hurled my youth into the grave.

"I wanted the gold and I got it— Came out with a fortune last fall— Yet somehow life's not what I thought it, And somehow the gold isn't all."

—George Matthew Adams.

"Mamma," said the Young Thing, "I want you to stop forcing me into Mr. Gottit's company all the time. People are talking."

"But, my dear," protested the Solicitous Lady, "he is a wonderful catch!"

"He may be, Mamma, but if you keep on thinking you are pitcher, he'll get onto your curves and throw the game."

EDITH—"I think Jack is horrid. I asked him if he had to choose between me and a million which he would take, and he said the million."

MARIE—"That's all right. He knew if he had the million you'd be easy,"



FOUNTAIN PENS

"Why do they call 'em fountain pens? I should say reservoir pen would be the better name. A reservoir contains liquids; a fountain throws 'em around."

"I think fountain pen is the proper name," said the party of the second part.



FRANKLIN

Franklin, when ambassador to France, being at a meeting of a literary society, and not well understanding French when declaimed, determined to applaud when he saw a lady of his acquaintance express satisfaction. When they had ceased, a little child, who understood French, said to him, "But, grand-papa, you always applauded the loudest when they were praising you!" Franklin laughed heartily and explained the matter.



FREAKS

'Tis well to seek to be unique, But being too odd makes a freak.



FREE VERSE

YOUNG THING—"I wonder why they call it free verse?"

THE POET—"That's simple. Did you ever try to sell any?"



FREEDOM OF SPEECH

Dean Jones of Yale is credited with this definition of freedom of speech: "The liberty to say what you think without thinking what you say."

"I believe in free speech!" exclaimed the vociferous man.

"So do I," rejoined Uncle Bill Bottletop; "so do I. But in one respect free speech reminds me of the free lunch in the old days. You hate to see a man making a pig of himself just because something's free."

Words can be just as dangerous as acts. There is a common notion that the right of free speech implies the right to say anything we please and relieves a man of all responsibility for his words. Every man should recognize that hard words are just as dangerous as brickbats, and if he gets to throwing them around promiscuously he is liable for the damage he does. Almost any opinion we have could be stated in terms that would not cause offense. Hard words are caused by our consciousness of the weakness of our position. They are symptoms of impotence. They arise from the feeling that a single statement of our case is not sufficient, and that the only way to make an impression is by insult or abuse. A man who is satisfied with the justice of his position is content to state it in simple and inoffensive terms.—Dr. Frank Crane.

"Sir," screeched the wild-haired man, "are you opposed to free speech?"

"Not unless I am compelled to listen to it," replied old Festus Pester.



FRENCH LANGUAGE

"Does your son who is abroad with the troops understand French?"

"Oh, yes, but he says the people he meets there don't seem to."



FRIENDS

"A fellah come to me today And slapped me on the back And started makin', right away, The us'al sort of crack About how good a friend he was, How strong he was for me— But friends don't need to tell you so, There's other ways to tell you so," Says Charlie Cherokee.

"When makin' up my list of friends I try to git 'em all; The folks who give me recommends, Or loans, however small; I try to think of all they done A friend of mine to be. I find a rainy day is what Will tell you who's a friend or not," Says Charlie Cherokee.

"I've never added to the list A man, like this one did, Who slapped my back and grabbed my fist And started in to kid. For friends don't need to say a word, Their friendship you can see, Can see it in a fellah's eyes— For friends don't need to advertise," Says Charlie Cherokee.

—Douglas Malloch.

A day for toil, an hour for sport, But for a friend life is too short.

—Emerson.

It's a pretty safe guess that if you have no friends you have done something to deserve the fix you are in.

A friend who is not in need is a friend indeed.

Friends

Around the corner I had a friend, In this great city, that has no end. Yet days go by and weeks rush on And before I know it, a year has gone, And I never see my old friend's face, For life is a swift and terrible race. He knows I like him just as well As in the days when I rang his bell, And he rang mine, we were younger then And now we are busy, tired men, Tired of playing the foolish game, Tired with trying to make a name. "Tomorrow" I say, "I'll call on Jim Just to show him that I think of him," But tomorrow comes, and tomorrow goes, And the distance between us grows and grows. Around the corner—yet miles away "Here's a telegram, sir" Jim died today. And that's what we get and deserve in the end, Around the corner, a vanished friend.

—C. Hanson Towne.

See also Borrowers.



FRIENDSHIP

"Friendship," said Uncle Eben, "don't mean no mo' to some folk dan a license to borrow money."

Friendship is a disinterested commerce between equals.—Goldsmith.

So long as we love we serve; So long as we are loved by others I would almost say that we are indispensable; And no man is useless while he has a friend.

He removes the greatest ornament of friendship who takes away from it respect.—Cicero.

Rejoice, and men will seek you; Grieve, and they turn and go, They want full measure of all your pleasure, But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many; Be sad, and you lose them all,— There are none to decline your nectar'd wine, But alone you must drink life's gall.

—Ella Wheeler Wilcox.



FUTURE

Youth measures the future with the straight, new ruler of the present; Old Age, by the frayed and patched plumb-line of the past.

I announce myself unblushingly and with perfect confidence. Nobody has anything on me.

Nobody can ever supplant me in the affections and desires of men. I am supreme mogul of the universe.

Everybody is working for me. Asking nothing for myself, all men expect everything of me. I withhold nothing and grant as little as I like. Men may doubt fire and the stars, but not me.

Nobody ever saw me, yet I am the one reality. Nobody knows anything about me. So long as time shall last my secret is safe. Yet I am ever on the lips of men. My name is lisped by the toddling infant and chortled by hoary-headed sages.

I am the one that you will eventually disown.

I am tomorrow.

Tomorrow Never Arrives

Always lookin' forward to an easy-goin' time, When the world seems movin' careless like a bit of idle rime; A day when there is nothin' that kin make you sigh or fret; Always lookin' forward—but I haven't seen it yet.



FUTURE LIFE

Mr. Tarzon Jones was sitting down to breakfast one morning when he was astounded to see in the paper an announcement of his own death.

He rang up his friend Howard Smith at once. "Halloa, Smith!" he said. "Have you seen the announcement of my death in the paper?"

"Yes," replied Smith. "Where are you speaking from?"

TEACHER—"And what was Nelson's farewell address?"

BRIGHT BOY—"Heaven, ma'am."

At the grave of the departed the old darky pastor stood, hat in hand. Looking into the abyss he delivered himself of the funeral oration.

"Samuel Johnson," he said sorrowfully, "you is gone. An' we hopes you is gone where we 'specks you ain't."

POST—"A man can die but once."

PARKER—"Once used to be enough, until these psychic experts got busy."

A French biologist declares that by a freezing process, somewhat similar to that used in preserving fish, the span of human life can be indefinitely extended. By going into cold storage here, we can postpone a hot time hereafter.

"Well, Bill," asked a neighbor. "Hear the boss has had a fever? How's his temperature today?"

The hired man scratched his head and decided not to commit himself.

"'Tain't fer me to say," he replied. "He died last night."

A park orator returning home flushed with his oratorical efforts, and also from other causes, found a mild curate seated opposite in the tram-car. "It may interest you to know," he said truculently, "that I don't believe in the existence of a 'eaven." The curate merely nodded, and went on reading his newspaper. "You don't quite realize," said the park orator, "what I'm trying to make clear. I want you to understand that I don't believe for a single, solitary moment that such a place as 'eaven exists." "All right, all right," answered the curate pleasantly, "go to hell, only don't make quite so much fuss about it."

A Massachusetts Senator was back home, looking after his political fences, and was asking the minister about some of his old acquaintances.

"How's old Mr. Jones?" he inquired. "Will I be likely to see him again?"

"You'll never see Mr. Jones again," said the minister. "Mr Jones has gone to heaven."

"Now, boys," said the teacher in the juvenile Sunday-school class, "our lesson today teaches us that if we are good while here on earth, when we die we will go to a place of everlasting bliss. But suppose we are bad, then what will become of us?"

"We'll go to a place of everlasting blister," promptly answered the small boy at the pedal extremity of the class.

"I wish, reverend father," said Curran to Father O'Leary, "that you were St. Peter, and had the keys of heaven, because then you could let me in."

"By my honor and conscience," replied O'Leary, "it would be better for you that I had the keys of the other place, for then I could let you out."



FUTURIST ART

Futurist Art

Which one might worship—if he should wish—without breaking the second commandment because truly there is nothing like it "in the heavens above, in the earth beneath or in the waters under the earth."

A painter of the "impressionist" school is now confined in a lunatic asylum. To all persons who visit him he says, "Look here; this is the latest masterpiece of my composition." They look, and see nothing but an expanse of bare canvas. They ask, "What does that represent?"

"That? Why, that represents the passage of the Jews through the Red Sea."

"Beg pardon, but where is the sea?"

"It has been driven back."

"And where are the Jews?"

"They have crossed over."

"And the Egyptians?"

"Will be here soon. That's the sort of painting I like; simple, suggestive, and unpretentious."

The artist dipped his brush in a bucket of paint and wiped it across the canvas several times horizontally. When he had done this he took his labor in hand and carefully placed it in an elaborate frame.

"What's the idea?" his boon companion inquired.

"Impressionistic study."

"Do you mean to tell me that is a finished painting?"

"Certainly."

"What are you going to call it?"

"A village street as seen from the rear seat of a motorcycle."



GAMBLING

"Look, mother," said Bobbie, exhibiting a handful of marbles, "I won all those from Willie Smith."

"Why, Bobbie!" exclaimed his mother; "don't you know it's wicked to play marbles for 'keeps'? Go right over to his house and give back every one."

"Yes, mother," said the boy obediently; "and shall I take that vase you won at Mrs. Jones' whist party, and give it back to her?"

"It's just as wrong to gamble when you win as when you lose."

"Yassuh," asserted Mr. Erastus Pinkley. "De immorality is jes' as great, but de inconvenience ain't."

PROFESSOR—"Now I put the number seven on the board. What number immediately comes into your mind?"

CLASS (in unison)—"Eleven!"—Burr.

SAM—"Ah done heard dat dey fine' Columbus's bones."

EZRA—"Lawd! Ah never knew dat he wuz a gamblin' man."



GARAGES

"What do they sell in that last garage besides gasoline, father?"

"'Besides,' my son? You mean 'instead of.'"—Life.



GARDENING

"I suppose you are going to raise potatoes in your garden?"

"I was, but when I read the directions for planting I found that it would be impossible. They should be planted in hills, and my yard is perfectly level."

WHAT HE SAID TO HIS WIFE—"If you want a garden this year you had better hire somebody to make it. I'm not going to try it again. I've figured it out; and if I would spend on my business the time I put in on that garden I would make enough money to keep us in vegetables for fifty years. I am off it for life."

WHAT HE SAID TO HIS NEIGHBOR—"I don't think I'll bother with a garden this year. It doesn't pay; I may do a little; but the digging and the labor—I'm off that for life."

WHAT HE SAID TO HIS PARTNER—"Well, how's the garden coming along? I'm not doing much with mine this year. What? How high did you say? Already? What seed did you use?"

WHAT HE SAID TO HIS WIFE WHEN HE GOT HOME AN HOUR EARLY THAT DAY—"Call me when dinner's ready. I've got to get the garden started today or I'll never raise a thing."



GAS

DISSATISFIED HOUSEHOLDER—"Do you mean to say that this meter measures the amount of gas we burn?"

GAS COLLECTOR—"I will enter into no controversy, sir; but I may say that the meter measures the amount of gas you will have to pay for."



GENEROSITY

SUNDAY-SCHOOL TEACHER—"Now, Jimmy, I want you to memorize today's motto, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'"

JIMMY—"Yes'm, but I know it now. My father says he has always used that as his motto in his business."

TEACHER—"Oh, how noble of him! And what is his business?"

JIMMY—"He's a prize-fighter, ma'am."—Life.

Let us proportion our alms to our ability, lest we provoke God to proportion His blessings to our alms.—Beveridge.

In this world, it is not what we take up, but what we give up, that makes us rich.—Beecher.



GENIUS

WILLIE—"Paw, what is the difference between genius and talent?"

PAW—"Talent gets paid every Saturday, my son."

Time, place, and action, may with pains be wrought, But genius must be born, and never can be taught.

—Dryden.

Who in the same given time can produce more than many others, has vigor; who can produce more and better, has talents; who can produce what none else can, has genius.—Lavater.

And genius hath electric power, Which earth can never tame; Bright suns may scorch, and dark clouds lower— Its flash is still the same.

—Lydia M. Child.

Taste consists in the power of judging; genius in the power of executing.—Blair.



GEOGRAPHY

Edgar, aged five, was driving from the station on his first visit to Maine. His mother, noticing a troubled look on his face as he looked about, said:

"What's the matter, dear? Don't you like the beautiful country?"

"Yes, mother, but on my map Maine is red!"

FATHER—"Now James, get ready. I'm going to hear your geography lesson. What have the various expeditions to the North Pole accomplished?"

JIMMY—"Nothin' 'cept to make the geography lessons harder."

The geography lesson was about to begin, and the subject of it was France.

Accordingly, the teacher started off with the question: "Now in this present terrible war, who is our principal ally?"

"France," came the answer from a chorus of voices.

"Quite right," said the teacher, beaming. "Now can any of you give me the name of a town in France?"

A small boy at the back of the class almost fell over in his eagerness to tell; "Somewhere," he said, breathlessly.



GERMANY

"Germany's claim that she imports nothing, buys only of herself, and so is growing rich from the war, is a dreadful fallacy."

The speaker was Herbert C. Hoover, chairman of the American Food Board.

"Germany," he went on, "is like the young man who wisely thought he'd grow his own garden-stuff. This young man had been digging for about an hour when his spade turned up a quarter. Ten minutes later he found another quarter. Then he found a dime. Then he found a quarter again.

"'By gosh!' he said, 'I've struck a silver mine,' and, straightening up, he felt something cold slide down his leg. Another quarter lay at his feet. He grasped the truth: There was a hole in his pocket."



GERMS

"You don't seem to pay any attention to these germs."

"I don't talk about 'em any more than is necessary," answered Doc Braney. "I take all possible precautions and then try to ignore 'em. The meanest thing about a germ is that if he can't attack you anywhere else, he tries to get on your mind."

Daddy was confined to the house with Spanish influenza, and mother was busy sterilizing the dishes which had come from the sick-room.

"Why do you do that?" asked four-year-old Donald.

"Because, dear, poor daddy has germs, and the germs get on the dishes, so then I boil them, and that kills all the horrid germs."

Donald turned this over in his little mind for several minutes. Then:

"Mother, why don't you boil daddy?"

"She is simply mad on the subject of germs, and sterilizes or filters everything in the house."

"How does she get along with her family?"

"Oh, even her relations are strained."

Mrs. Robinson was an extremely careful mother and had repeatedly cautioned her six-year-old daughter against handling any object that might contain germs. One day the little girl came in and said:

"Mother, I am never going to play with my puppy any more, because he has germs on him."

"Oh, no!" replied her mother. "There are no germs on your puppy."

"Yes, there are," insisted the child. "I saw one hop."—Life.



GIFTS

When the captain of the fire department was about to resign, his men banded together and purchased an elaborate, embossed silver horn to present to him at a meeting in the town hall. The fireman who was chosen to make the presentation practiced his speech for days beforehand. The chief, who had been informed of what was to happen, also practiced his speech of acceptance. They rehearsed together and were "letter perfect" when they mounted the platform in the town hall. The throng which confronted them had, however, a disastrous effect. Holding the horn at arm's length, the fireman stalked across the platform and with a ghastly expression on his face, said:

"Well, Bill, here's your horn!"

The chief rose slowly to his feet and gasped: "Hell! Is that it?"

Not what we give, but what we share, For the gift without the giver is bare.

—Lowell.

He gives twice who gives quickly.—Syrus.

A gallant Tommy, having received from England an anonymous gift of socks, entered them at once, for he was about to undertake a heavy march. He was soon prey to the most excruciating agony, and when, a mere cripple, he drew off his foot-gear at the end of a terrible day, he discovered inside the toe of the sock what had once been a piece of stiff writing-paper, now reduced to pulp, and on it appeared in bold, feminine hand the almost illegible benediction: "God bless the wearer of this pair of socks!"—Punch.

We like the gift when we the giver prize.—Sheffield.

See also Christmas gifts.



GIRLS

Son has just begun to go to school, and has much to say about the new little girls he meets, but every few days it is a different girl that attracts him. His mother said, "I'm afraid, son, that you are changeable."

"'Tain't me that changes, mom," he answered; "it's them, when you know them better."

Girls we love for what they are; young men for what they promise to be.—Goethe.



GOD

A little girl traveling in a sleeping-car with her parents greatly objected to being put in an upper berth. She was assured that papa, mama, and God would watch over her. She was settled in the berth at last and the passengers were quiet for the night, when a small voice piped:

"Mama!"

"Yes, dear."

"You there?"

"Yes, I'm here. Now go to sleep."

"Papa, you there?"

"Yes, I'm here. Go to sleep like a good girl."

This continued at intervals for some time until a fellow passenger lost patience and called:

"We're all here! Your father and mother and brothers and sisters and uncles and aunts and first cousins. All here. Now go to sleep!"

There was a brief pause after this explosion. Then the tiny voice piped up again, but very softly:

"Mama!"

"Well?"

"Was that God?"



GOLF

FIRST NEWSBOY—"Chimmie's got a job as caddie for a golf club. Is dere much money in dat?"

SECOND DITTO—"De salary ain't much, but dey makes a lot extra backin' up fellers when dey lies about de scores dey made."

An Irishman was suddenly struck by a golf-ball.

"Are you hurt?" asked the player. "Why didn't you get out of the way?"

"An' why should I get out of the way?" asked Pat. "I didn't know there was any assassins round here."

"But I called 'fore,'" said the player, "and when I say 'fore,' that is a sign for you to get out of the way."

"Oh, it is, is it?" said Pat. "Well, thin, whin I say 'foive,' it is a sign that you are going to get hit on the nose. 'Foive.'"

"What do you think is the most difficult thing for a beginner to learn about golf?"

"To keep from talking about it all the time."

The golfer who was employing him was playing very badly, and the caddie threw himself down on the grass at one point and watched him. When the man had at last succeeded in getting his ball out of the bunker, he glanced toward the boy and remarked: "You must be tired, lying down at this time of day."

"I ain't tired of carrying," said the caddie, "but I certainly am tired of counting."

"What is considered a good score on these links?"

"Well, sir," replied the youthful caddie solemnly, "most of the gents tries to do it in as few strokes as they can, but it gin'r'lly takes some more."

"Look, grandpaw, a new gowf ba' I foond, lost on the links."

"Are ye sure it was lost, Sandy?"

"Oo, ay; I saw the mannie an' his caddy lookin' for it."

Reflections of a Class A Caddie

One swallow does not make a golfer—it only helps. You may chip, you may wallop the ball if you will, But the slash of the duffer will cling round it still. Look before you cheat. Every water hole has a silver lining—ask the boat boy. To stymie is human; to lift up divine. Half a stroke is better than none. He laughs last who putts best. When in doubt, hole out.

Two golf fiends—an Englishman and a Scot—were playing a round together. After the first hole the Englishman asked:

"How many did you take?"

"Eight," replied the Scot.

"Oh, I only took seven, so it's my hole!" exclaimed the Englishman, triumphantly.

After the second hole the Englishman put the same question again. But the Scot smiled knowingly.

"Na, na, ma man," said he; "it's ma turn tae ask first!"



GOSSIP

"They say—"

"Who say?"

"Oh, all the people who don't matter."

"Germany's attitude toward peace is ominous," said General Laurin Lawson at a luncheon in Louisville."

"Germany reminds me, in fact, of the new parlor-maid whose mistress said to her:"

"'And above all things, I expect you to be reticent.'"

"'Yes, ma'am, certainly, of course, ma'am,' said the new maid."

"Then she leaned toward her mistress with shining eyes."

"'And what's there to be reticent about, ma'am?' she asked."

"Now this is a secret and you mustn't tell anybody."

"Rest assured that I won't tell that secret to anybody, dear. I have no desire to figure as a female Rip Van Winkle. That secret is at least three weeks old."

Women talk among themselves about other people. Men talk to other people about themselves.

If you want to know a woman Who can play a game of tag With Truth until it's spent beyond repair, Who can start a thousand rumors, Set ten thousand tongues a-wag Till there's nothing left of Gospel in the air, Who can get you into trouble And your reputation smirch— It's Mrs. Grundy On a Sunday When she's walking home from church.

—Katharine Eggleston Roberts.

"They tell me that woman is a gossip. Do you think she is reliable?"

"I know that whatever she says goes."

"It's just an idle rumor."

"Well, my wife's bridge club is in session. If those ladies get hold of that idle rumor, they'll soon put it to work."

A gossip is one who can make a mountain out of a molehill and then bring it to you.

Conversation being dull at an evening party, the hostess requested one of her guests to go home, that the rest might have somebody to talk about.



GOVERNMENT OWNERSHIP

They were looking down into the depths of the Grand Canon.

"Do you know," asked the guide, "that it took millions and millions of years for this great abyss to be carved out?"

"Well, well!" ejaculated the traveler. "I never knew this was a government job."

"I presume you're mighty glad the war is over."

"Well, I don' jes' know about dat," answered Mandy. "Cose I'se glad to have my Sam back home an' all dat, but I jes' know I ain't never gwine t'get money from him so regular as I did while he wuz in de Army an' de Government wuz handlin' his financial affairs."

"So you approve of the Government's action in taking over the railroads."

"Yep," replied Mr. Growcher. "I approve of that and prohibition for several reasons, one of them being that now a lot of people can quit lecturing on the subject and go to work."

NULLERFORD—"Do you know anybody who favors government control of the railroads?"

FONDERHAM—"I know one man. He lives fifty miles from the nearest rail; never does any traveling or shipping; has a son who's a conductor, a nephew who's a brakeman, a daughter who works in a railroad office, and two grandsons who are going to be firemen."



GRATITUDE

At least one Washington debutante has candor and humor in large and equal parts. Thus, her denial of a rumor that she was engaged:

"There is not a word of truth in it, but thank God for the report!"

"You did me a favor ten years ago," said the stranger, "and I have never forgotten it."

"Ah," replied the good man with a grateful expression on his face, "and you have come back to repay me?"

"Not exactly," replied the stranger. "I've just got into town and need another favor, and I thought of you right away."

"Thankful? What have I to be thankful for? I can't pay my bills."

"Then, man alive, be thankful you are not one of your creditors."



GUARANTEES

"Say," said the man as he entered the clothing-store. "I bought this suit here less than two weeks ago, and it is rusty-looking already."

"Well," replied the clothing-dealer, "I guaranteed it to wear like iron, didn't I?"



HABIT

Before becoming a hotel clerk he had worked in a grocery store.

"Is Judge David Poggenburg stopping here?" asked an impressive-looking stranger approaching the desk.

"No," replied the clerk with his most winning manner, "but—er—we have something else just as good."

He was engaged to the daughter of a literary man. He was bold as a wooer, but the veriest coward when it came to approaching the fair one's father. So he waited outside the great man's study while the "fayre ladye" did the tackling. In five minutes she was out again and on her dress was pinned a slip of paper bearing the words:

"With the author's compliments."

"I took that pretty girl from the store home the other night, and stole a kiss."

"What did she say?"

"Will that be all?"

The two American war correspondents were gazing at the conflict when Winkletop caught sight of a gallant officer leading a charge.

"His face is strangely familiar," he said. "That Greek lieutenant, I mean—"

"Yes," said Blithers. "He used to run the bootblacking stand in that barber-shop over on Steenth Avenue and Umptyiph Street."

And just then the noble warrior dashed madly past, and, forgetting himself under the excitement of the moment, turned and cried aloud to his advancing troops:

"Next! Shine!"

And the indomitable phalanx moved steadily up the hill, giving the enemy the worst polishing-off they had had since war was declared.

RELATIVE—"He is sleeping so quietly that I wonder if we will know when the end comes."

WIFE OF DYING FIRST-NIGHTER—"Yes, we will. He will get up and go out about five minutes before the end."—Puck.

HURRY—"What's happened to Speeder. I haven't seen him for weeks?"

CANE—"Oh, he tried all the different makes of cars and then bought an aeroplane."

HURRY—"Has he crashed?"

CANE—"Well, not exactly. He started on a cross-country flight the other day, heard something rattle and absent-mindedly climbed out to look under the machine."

"For ten years," said the new boarder, "my habits were as regular as clockwork. I rose on the stroke of six, and half an hour later was at breakfast; at seven I was at work; dined at one; had supper at six, and was in bed at nine thirty. Ate only plain food, and hadn't a day's illness all the time."

"Dear me!" said a hearer, in sympathetic tones; "and what were you in for?"

DOCTOR—"I have to report, sir, that you are the father of triplets."

POLITICIAN—"Impossible! I'll demand a recount."—Puck.

Ill habits gather by unseen degrees, As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.

—Dryden.

"Habit" is hard to overcome. If you take off the first letter, it does not change "a bit." If you take off another, you have a "bit" left. If you take still another the whole of "it" remains. If you take still another, it is not "t"-totally used up. All of which goes to show that if you wish to be rid of a "habit," you must throw it off altogether.

"Why did your wife leave you?"

"Force of habit, I guess. She was a cook before I married her."

BRIGGS—"You mustn't take offense if I speak to you about something I have had on my mind for some time, just a little habit of yours."

GRIGGS—"Certainly not."

BRIGGS—"Nobody has ever had the nerve to tell you before. And you are such a splendid, noble fellow."

GRIGGS—"Yes, yes."

BRIGGS—"You're one of those fellows who never really know what is being said to them; you're always pursuing some train of thought. Anyone can tell half the time you are not listening by the far-away look in your eyes. You've offended a lot of people. Of course, it's terribly rude—only you don't know it. You mustn't any more, old chap (putting his hands on Grigg's shoulder). Promise me you'll quit."

GRIGGS (obliged to face him)—"Just what were you saying?"

"That cashier is a cool chap."

"How so?"

"A thug with a revolver ordered him to hand out the bank's cash yesterday, but he said he couldn't do it unless the thug was identified. This took the fellow so aback, he hesitated a moment and was nabbed."

Some time ago, when a local corps was reviewed by Sir Ian Hamilton, one officer was mounted on a horse that had previously distinguished itself in a bakery business. Somebody recognized the horse, and shouted, "Baker!" The horse promptly stopped dead, and nothing could urge it on.

The situation was getting painful when the officer was struck with a brilliant idea, and remarked, "Not today, thank you." The procession then moved on.

"This makes the fourth time I have had to punish you this week, Sylvester," chided the teacher. "Do you wonder why?"

"Nope!" replied Skinny Smith. "You've got the habit, that's all."



HADES

See Future life.



HAPPINESS

"Happiness is merely a state of mind," quoted the Parlor Philosopher.

"If you mean happiness is imaginary I quite agree with you," replied the Mere Man. "Just watch a fellow enjoying his fifty-cent cigar, when he knows very well it's really the old five-center he used to scorn."

Keep happy when the weather's fair, Hum with the cheerful throng; Be glad that God has let you share The joys of sun and song. Keep happy when the weather's wet The sun may hide to-day; But back of the clouds, I'll bet, He's smiling, anyway!

—Luke McLuke.

All who joy would win Must share it—Happiness was born a twin.

—Byron.

Happiness is not a fixed quantity, like the world's gold supply: so that the more one man has the less his neighbor is likely to have. Real happiness is an infection. You can never force it upon any one. Each individual must "take" it. I have heard people say, as explaining the misery of many, that there is not enough happiness to go around. But the comment misses the very nature of happiness. The more there is in the world, the more there is likely to be. The larger the number of happy people the faster the infection will spread. But each must invite it. One child is happy with the crudest sort of toy, whereas another child is unhappy with an armful of toys. To the latter kind of soul, grown or ungrown, you can never give happiness, for there are not enough toys to supply everybody. Happiness is of the heart not of circumstances.

After reading a poem about a little boy who was so happy because there were lovely flowers, beautiful birds, blue sky and running brooks, eight-year-old William remarked:

"Those things would never make me happy, Miss Jones."

"Why, William," replied his teacher, "what would it take to make you happy?"

"Saturdays!" was the prompt reply.—Harper's.

The good fairy brought an ingot of lead and an ingot of gold and laid them before him. "Choose!" she said, simply.

The child thought a moment, and chose the lead.

"It's no heavier to carry, it's just as good to eat, and it won't make everybody hate me!" quoth he.

The good fairy laughed.

"You can be happy without any help from me," she chirped, and flew away.



HASH

The literary boarder fastened his eyes upon the hash.

"Kindly pass the Review of Reviews," he said.

They had hash on Monday for dinner, after a roast of beef on Sunday, as happens in all well-regulated families. Father had said grace, when Bobbie said:

"I don't see why you asked another blessing this evening, father. You did it yesterday over this. It's the same old stuff."

SHE (thoughtfully)—"Did you ever think much about reincarnation, dear?"

'18 (otherwise)—"Think about it? I eat it nearly every day—only we call it hash."



HASTE

Ten people hurry, to catch up where one hurries to get ahead.

The more haste, ever the worst speed.—Churchill.

Whoever is in a hurry shows that the thing he is about is too big for him. Haste and hurry are very different things.—Chesterfield.



HEAVEN

A Sunday-school teacher was quizzing her class of boys on the strength of their desire for righteousness.

"All those who wish to go to heaven," she said, "please stand."

All got to their feet but one small boy.

"Why, Johnny," exclaimed the shocked teacher, "do you mean to say that you don't want to go to heaven?"

"No, ma'am," replied Johnny promptly. "Not if that bunch is going."

THE COOK—"Sir! Sir! There's a Zep'lin outside and if you don't come wi' the keys of the cellar, we'll all be in—in—heaven in a couple o' minutes!"

THE CURATE—"God forbid!"

One of the prominent deacons in an Ohio church was seriously ill. As he was very popular among the congregation, a bulletin board was posted in front of the church to inform of his condition. It read: