Newspaper Page Text
A PAGE OJ NONSENSE
A Woman Inquiring About Trains.
(She timidly accosts a large brass-buttoned em
ploye). “Are you the right one? I want to find
out about trains —you know, ask questions
Oh, over there? I went there, but the man said
I was at the wrong end of the line and I would
have to wait my turn, and then I had to stand
next to a fat woman with a little boy eating or
anges and it dripped all over, so really I had to
leave without finding out anything.
tl Perhaps you could? .... Yes,
you look inteligentNo, you neednjt
thank me, you do— Oh, of course —
Why, I’m going to visit Aunt Elizabeth. —She’s
not my aunt; she’s my husband’s aunt, and not
really his aunt either —I’ve forgotten what it is;
one of those in-law things that are so hard to re
member. 1 am positive I shall go anyway, but
you see my husband—Mr. Augustus Smythe—•
Smythe with an e. —You know I have more trouble
about that e. —you haven’t any idea —in depart
ment stores particularly I always say, ‘Be sure you
put on the e.’ And half the time when the parcels
come home they have spelled the name ‘Smith’!
Now, honestly, isn’t it maddening? I can’t tell you
how trifles like that annoy me. In fact, I don’t
call a thing like that a trifle, but Mr. Smythe—
There, that’s what I was going to tell you. Mr.
Smythe is away on a business trip, and I thought
I would get my visit to Aunt Elizabeth oft my
mind while he was away and then surprise him
when he returned and —
“No, net at all —I didn’t mind you in
terrupting me. AV here dies Aunt Elizabeth live?
Oh yes, of course —you would have to know’. —In
Connecticut.- —Oh, the town? Well, you know I
can’t tell you how furious Aunt Elizabeth would
be if she heard you say ‘town.’ It’s a small city—
one of those places with a Court Street and High
Street and a Prospect Avenue which looks out in
the back and no one dares wear made-over clothes
because the neighbirs remember them. I do be
lieve—
“ The name of the place? Now what
do you think of that? You jumped the question
so quickly at me it’s gone right out of my head.
I knew it just as well as my own mind. —Now —No
I’ll have it in a moment. Well, I know it begins
with L. I am absolutely positive about that —at
least, I think so. Can’t you suggest some name?”
—From The Talking Woman, by May Isabel Fisk.
i A Marriage License.
You got back, massa, from de town?
You fetch my mar’yage license down?
Dem license read for Sal an’ me?
Dat’s a pity, massa, ’case you see
Since you been gone I change my min’
And conclude I’ll marry Addeline —-
Des you take dem license and change de name —
And lemme ma’y on em’ all de same.
You can’t do dat? Cost me two dollars mo’?
Oh, no, sah, massa! No, sah, no!
Des leave de name dat’s writ dar Sal's
’Caze dar aint two dollars diffunce ’twixt dem gals!
—Martha Young, in Circle Magazine.
•e i?
The Politeness of '"Silent Smith.”
A friend of the late millionaire known as “Silent
Smith” recently said in discussing him:
“Silent Smith was a good, kind man, but a busy
one; a foe to bores and time-wasters.
“He used to fish occasionally at Shawnee, and
a Shawnee farmer, on a junket to the city, once
made bold to visit him in his New York office.
“ ‘Well, Josh, how’d Silent Smith use ye?’ they
asked the farmer at the general store on his re
turn.
“ ‘Fellers,’ said the old man warmly, ‘Silent
Smith is the perlitest cuss I ever see. I hadn’t
been sittin’ chattin’ with him more’n a quarter
of an hour ’fore he had told me six times, be gosht,
to come in an’ see him ag’in.’ ” —The Circle.
The Golden Age for August 29, 1907.
Holv to Manage a Husband.
According to an exchange this is the way to
treat “Him”:
When you marry him, love him.
After you marry him, study him.
If he is honest, honor him.
If he is generous, appreciate him.
If he is sad, cheer him.
When he is cross, amuse him
When is talkative, listen to him.
When he is quarrelsome, ignore him.
If he is slothful, spur him.
If he is noble, praise him.
If he is confidential, encourage him.
If he is secretive, trust him.
If he is jealous, cure him.
If he cares naught for pleasure, coax him.
If he favors society, accompany him.
If he does you a favor, thank him.
When he deserves it, kiss him.
Let him know how well you understand him, but
never let him know that you “manage” him.
I? «
The Reason.
Two Irishmen driving through the country no
ticed that many of the barns had weathervanes in
the shape of huge roosters.
“Pat,” said one of the men to the other, “can
you tell me why they always have a rooster and
niver a hen on the top iv thim barns?”
“Sure,” replied Pat, “an’ it must be because
av the difficulty they’d have in collecting the eggs.”
—Chicago Daily News.
H •?
Lacked Mentality.
Harold’s mother was a devout follower of mental
science. The two were crossing a field while in
the country, and when the lad saw a goat in the dis
tance he shielded himself instinctively behind his
parent’s skirt.
“Harold, I’m ashamed of you,” she told him.
“Don’t you know there is no such thing as pain
and that the goat can’t hurt you?”
“Y’yes,” he admitted, timidly. “I know it and
you know it, but the goat don’t know it.” —Kan-
sas City Times.
* M
Token of Appreciation.
She (six weeks after elopement)—“l received a
letter from papa today.”
He—“ Well?”
She —“He writes that he had just finished mak
ing his will.”
lie —“Did he remember us?”
She —“Yes, indeed. He says he has left all his
money to an asylum for hopeless idiots.’’--Michi
gan Life.
•5 *
Tlvo Hundred Yards Long.
Before going to church a minister shaved and
accidentally cut his nose. So he asked his wife
where the court plaster was. She told him it was
in the bottom of her sewing-basket. At church he
noticed that every one smiled when he looked to
ward them, so when he got home he looked in the
looking-glass and there on his nose was the end
paper from a spool marked, “Warranted two hun
dred yards long.”—Ex.
*
Just Call Him One.
“As Shakespeare says,” remarked Cassidy, who
was fond of airing his “book lamin’,” “What’s
in a name?”
“Well,’’ replied Casey, “call me wan that Oi
don’t like an’ Oi’ll show ye.”—Michigan Life.
* ‘it
Slippers play an important part in the life of
almost every man. In childhood they are laid on
him; in manhood, just after he has been married,
they are thrown after him, and for a considerable
pari of the rest of his life they are under him.
Meeded Strength.
1 ‘ I have seen many fantastic and humorous ad
vertisements in newspapers during my somewhat
lengthly career,” once said Colonel Henry Wat
terson, in an address to a convention of journalists,
“but quite the most interesting and oddest of these
was an ad. that I chanced upon in London. It was
printed in the staid old Times, and, as 1 remember
it, ran something like this:
“ ‘A young gentleman who is on the point of
getting married is most desirous of meeting a man
of experience who will take the responsibility of
dissuading him from this dangerous step.’ ”
Harper’s Weekly.
Hishop Potter’s Job.
To illustrate a point he was making in an address
he was delivering the other day, Bishop Potter
told the following story:
“Not long ago I was staying with a friend in
a country house up on the Hudson. On Sunday
morning as I passed through the library I found
a small boy curled up in a big chair deeply in
terested in a book ‘Are you going to church,
Tom?’ I asked. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘Why, I am,’
I said. ‘Huh!’ he said, ‘that’s your job.’ ’’—Har
per’s Weekly.
»l *
It Tastes Just the Same.
“You say you were in the saloon at the time
of the assault referred to in the complaint?”
asked the lawyer.
“I was, sir.”
“Did you take cognizance of the barkeeper at
the time?”
“I don’t now what he called it, but I took what
the rest did.” —Lippincott’s Magazine.
it It
Just Her Way.
By James Rabenscroft.
Opportunity called
On a woman one day,
And waited and waited,
And at last went away.
When she found he was gone
She was greatly distressed.
“He at least might have stayed,” •
She said, “till I was dressed.”
•t it
The Point of Vielv.
“Yon can’t get in here on a half ticket,’’ ex
claimed the door-keeper at the circus.
“I thought I could,” apologized the small-town
citizen. “I have a bad eye, and I only expected
io see half of the show.”
“Then you’ll have to get two tickets,” said the
door-keeper. “If you only have one eye it’ll take
you twice as long to see the show.”—Harper’s
Weekly.
•e is
Force of Habit.
Mr. Easy.—Cheer up, Mr. Peck. If we must go
down, let’s go down cheerfully like men.”
Mr. Peck.-“ But. hang it all, Mr. Easy, if I
don’t get home my wife will never let me go fishing
again, never!' ’—Harper’s Weekly.
n it
We heard a story the other day of P. Morgan
and Fighting Bob Evans. The latter ns a good
Christian strolled into church upon Sunday and took
a seat in a pew that seemed to have * om for a sin
ner. The owner appeared to be Pierpont Morgan,
and he scowled at his guest as an intruder. Finally
he took out a card and wrote upon it: “I pav
$5,000 a year for this pew,” and signed it “Mor
gan.” He handed it to “Bob,” who carefully read
it and then wrote underneath and handed it back:
“You pay a damn sight too much. Evans.’’ The
latter stayed the service out.
3
