“Would you advise me to get married?”
“I can’t give you any advice on that subject, my boy.”
“You married men are all alike. None of you will give a fellow any advice.”
“Well, marriage is a secret society.”—Louisville Courier-Journal.
Father—What did you and John talk about last night, dear?
Daughter—Oh, we talked about our kith and kin.
Small Brother—Yeth, pop, I heard ’em. He seth, “Kin I hev a kith?” and she seth, “Yeth, you kin!”—Yale Record.
A boy was visiting another boy, and as they were going to bed the little host knelt to say his prayers.
“I never say my prayers when I am home,” said the visitor.
“That’s all right,” said the other boy. “You better say them here. This is a folding bed.”
“Did that book agent succeed in inveigling you into buying a set of Shakespeare’s works?”
“No.”
“How did you get rid of him so easily?”
“I simply showed him the last dun I received for a set of books I bought on the installment plan two years ago.”—Birmingham Age-Herald.
“Mr. Johnson,” asked the professor in the freshman class, “what three words are used most among the college students?”
“I don’t know,” said the student.
“Correct,” replied the professor.
Boss—“I wanted to speak to you, Mr. Lovum, about your attentions to Miss Sweetthynge during office hours. I hired you as a billing clerk only—no cooing mentioned. That will be all for the present.”
“Brudder Jackson,” said the colored preacher to a parishioner, “yo’ wife done tell me she got religion and wants to jine de church.”
“Yas, suh, dat’s so,” replied the husband.
“Well, brudder,” suggested the preacher, “Ise gwine to put her protestashuns to a test—de nex’ time it rains, Brudder Jackson, you let your dawg get good an’ wet and den let the dawg in yo’ parlor and den you tell me what yo’ wife says. Den I will know whether Sis’ Jackson should cum into de fold or not.”
Cholly—“Before I met you I thought of nothing but making money.”
Ethel—“Well, keep right on! Pop ain’t so rich as folks think!”
“Come right into the yard,” said the farmer’s wife cordially to the tramp who had besought something to eat.
The tramp eyed the bulldog dubiously. “I dunno ’bout dat,” he said. “How ’bout dat drog? Will he bite?”
“I don’t know,” said the housewife, “I just got him today and that’s what I want to find out.”
Freddy, with a determined look on his small countenance, marched into the front room and up to the ardent suitor of his pretty sister.
“What’s them?” he demanded, thrusting out a grimy hand full of small white objects.
“What are those?” said the young man with an ingratiating smile. “Those are beans.”
“He does know ’em, maw,” bawled Freddy triumphantly into the adjoining room. “You said he didn’t.”
“Tommy,” said the fond mother, “isn’t it rather an extravagance to eat both butter and jam on your bread at the same time?”
“No, mamma, it’s economy,” Tommy answered. “The same piece of bread does for both.”—The Christian Herald.
Bachelor—“Before the wedding you told me that married life would be one grand sweet song.”
Benedict (gloomily)—“Yes; and since then I’ve found it one grand sweet refrain.”
Bachelor—“Refrain?”
Benedict—“Yes. My wife insists that I refrain from cards, refrain from smoking, and refrain from the club.”
“Look here, waiter, is this peach or apple pie?” asked the patron.
“Can’t you tell from the taste, sir?” asked the waiter.
“No, I can’t,” answered the customer.
“Well, then,” asked the waiter, “what difference does it make?”
An advertisement of a popular spectacular play has this to say of two of its attractions:
5,000 PEOPLE
4,000 COSTUMES
A teamster charged with using loud and profane language on the street, was brought before a police magistrate, and one of the witnesses was an aged colored man.
“Did this man use improper language?” inquired the lawyer for the prosecution.
“Well, sah,” replied Uncle Ans, “he did tawk mighty loud, sah.”
“And did he indulge in profanity?”
The witness looked puzzled but did not answer, so the attorney tried again.
“What I mean, Uncle Ans,” he said, “is this: did he use words that your minister could use in a sermon?”
“Oh, yessah, yessah,” answered Uncle Ans, with a grin; “de ministah could use dem word, sah, but he suttinly would hab ter errange dem different.”
Mrs. Bacon—“I see washerwomen in Alabama are compelled to register their names with the city health departments.”
Mr. Bacon—“Why don’t they vaccinate them?”
“What for?”
“So they won’t take it.”
“Take what?”
“The wash.”—Yonker’s Statesman.