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November, 1922 THE ATLANTIAN 27 PAYING THE FIDDLERS. Old King Coal is a merry old soul; Or perhaps it is only a rumor. But at least we know that the prices show A peculiar sense of humor. His Wife—Baby's sutting teeth. Can you give him a silver dollar to bite on ? Titus Canby—I can lend him a sil ver dollar at the usual rate of seven per cent and five per cent commission, which I will take out of his penny bank. I’ve been in college, now, twelve years, But I’m hoping for the best. I’ve seen three classes graduate, I really need a good long rest. I’m growing old, and still in school; My chance is growing lesser, But I don’t mind, I’m getting paid— For I’m a good professor. —Notre Dame Juggler. Woman (to tramp)-^This is the fourth time the last two weeks you have been begging at my door. Are you always out of work? Tony—No, madam. But I have been particularly fortunate the last few weeks.—California Pelican. “Say, what are you crying about?” “My dog just died.” “That’s nothing. My grandma died and I didn’t cry.” “Well, you didn’t raise your grand ma from a pup, did you ?” O ATHENA! Artist Says Girls of Old Greek Type Are on Way.—Headline. They, too, will probably be held up at Ellis Island.—New York Sun. The Dean was exceedingly angry. “So you confess that this unfortu nate young man was carried to the pond and drenched? Now, what part did you take in this disgraceful af fair? “The right leg, sir,” answered the sophomore meekly.—Johns Hopkins Black and Blue Jay. The Visitor—Why were you divorc ed from your husband ? Lady of the House—Why, our cook disliked him so that she threatened to leave if I kept him.—Fremont Mes senger. “They say you’re going to America. What are you going to do there?” “Save up enough for the return trip.”—Sondags-Nisse (Stockholm). Philip—There should be a law against that cheek-to-cheek hold in dancing. Philippa—I never thought you were Lou—Why are you always so par ticular about the taxicabs you choose ? Sue—Because I want them to match the dresses I wear. LET “PAT DO IT” 510 Courtland St. Sutton’s Pharmacy 296 WEST PEACHTREE ST. Phones, Hemlock 0263 and Hemlock 9131 iiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMHiiiiiiiiiitiiiMiiiiimiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiMiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiMmi Have Your Prescriptions Filled at At Our Store. Our Delivery System Is Complete. If It Is Kept in a First-Class Drug Store We Have It. Sutton’s Pharmacy llltlllllMIIIIHIIIIIIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIItlllllllllllllllllllllltllMIMIIIIIIHIMIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIMIIIIIIII Drop in and hear our Radio evenings. GORDON’S 5 NORTH BROAD At Peachtree Arcade Entrance +++♦+♦ Hosiery Negligees Lingeries, Etc. Shop With Us and Shop Early Gordon's Better Service and Gordon’s Low er Prices Will Appeal to You l +♦♦♦+♦ CALL ON US Flapper—What are you thinking about Sid? Sid—Well! Something nice, I guess. “Oh, Sidney, dear, you make me so happy!” Lady of the House—Another drum mer? Salesman—No, ma’am. I play a violin! “What do ye mean tellin’ me them Government people is goin’ to give you one hundred dollars for that freak bird?” “Lissen here, am gonna get one hundred bucks for this here bird, and want you to know that it is no freak bird neither. It is a carrier pigeon crossed with a parrot and delivers them messages out loud.” “Say, Georgia, I wish you would quit chasing around to afternoon teas and take up golf; you’re getting fat again.” “Thank you, Edward; but as far as I can see that’s all there is to your old golf, just chasing from one tee to another.” “Yes, Judge, my wife hit me on the head with a book.” Judge—What sort of a book ? “Heavy reading matter, Judge.” Ted—With the knell of the short skirt the great show is over. Ned—I suppose so. The girls are beginning to drop the curtain. THE MAGIC MELODY. We’ve all heard tales of how girls fall For men \yho daf.ce and sing, And how they rave about the boys Who make the ivories ring. A tune is apt to win a girl, But make it all secure And learn to blow'an auto horn; You’ll get her then for sure. —Pennsylvania Punch Board. Student—Beg pardon, sir, but what is this that you have written on my theme ? Professor—I told you to write more legibly.—Iowa Frivol. “Dis coal strike am gonna make it er hard winter fer us, Sawdust.” “Why so, Ambrose?” “ ’Cause dey’ll be s’much mo’ wood dat we’ll hafta refuse t’ cut!” Jones (to College Senior)—When do you expect to graduate? College Senior—Every year. “I’ve had my name put up at the country club, old man.” “Why, I didn’t know you played golf!” “I don’t, but I’m in the insurance business!” Him—This tunnel cost millions of dollars. Her—An entire waste of money as far as you’re concerned, isp’t it?— Penn State Froth,