Newspaper Page Text
November, 1922
THE ATLANTIAN
29
MEMORIES.
Once, you say, we felt love’s blisses
When the world was not so wise;
Once, you say, you knew my kisses
Under Babylonian skies.
There fulfilled our scorching passion,
There we pledged our tender vow—
Strange to meet in this cold fashion
Here and now.
Maybe you were, as you’ve stated,
Fooling around in Babylon;
Maybe you participated
In the local goings-on.
Maybe things like that befell you,
Ages past. But anyhow,
I was never there, I’ll tell you
Here and now. —D. P.
Gentleman (consulting city direc
tory) — Bookbinders—bookkeepers—
booksellers—bookmakers—
Drug Store Clerk—Maybe I can help
you find what you’re looking for.
“No use—I guess bootleggers aren’t
listed yet.”—New York World.
We are but lowly pupets, strung by
Fate;
Assigned to play a part, or small or
great—
The one a vapid bounder about town,
The other but a painted, silly clown.
But, be he so well or meanly cast
Eventually—first or haply last,
Some woman in this age of super
jazz
Takes the stage and lo! he gets the
razz.
M. I. T.—What were your marks
last year?
Harvard—What’s your social stand
ing?
Williams—What make is your car?
N. Y. U.—What’s your religion?
Yale—How much can you hold?
Princeton—What show is she in ?
Syracuse—How much are they pay
ing you?
Springfield—How long have you
been married?
Cornell—Do you favor co-educa
tion?
U/iion—Have you had any electrical
experience?—Hamilton Royal Ga
boon.
“He thinks we ought to forget the
money the Allies borrowed from us
during the war.” \
“That so?”
“Yes, but when I asked him to for
get the five I borrowed from him a
few weeks ago, he said that was an
altogether different matter.”—Detroit
Free Press.
Peter Piper played a pot of poker,
A pretty pot of poker Peter Piper
picked.
But a piker with a poker picked on
Peter Pipef,
And pocketed the poker-pot that Peter
Piper picked!
—Annapolis Log.
LET “PAT DO IT”
510 Courtland St.
SUWANEE RIVER SPECIAL
TO THE WEST COAST OF FLORIDA
—Via—
Macon
Valdosta
Tampa
Bradentown
Sarasota
St. Petersburg
Lv. Atlanta , 11:45 a. m. C. T.
Ar. Macon 3:10p. m. E. T.
Ar. Valdosta 7:45 p.m.
Ar. Tampa 5:30 a. m.
Ar. St. Petersburg 7:55 a.m.
Ar. Bradentown 7:10 a.m.
Ar. Sarasota 7:45 a.m.
Trough Sleeping Cars, Coaches and Dining Car.
Low Winter Tourist Fares Now in Effect.
SOUTHERN RAILWAY SYSTEM
Free’s Pharmacy
(Successor to Selman & Free)
116 CAPITOL AVE.
Main 0945 Main 0025
iiiiiiiiiiii
No Change in Management
immimii
Have Your Doctor Phone Us Your Prescrip
tions and You Will Be Satisfied
IIIIIIIIIIII!
Service Our Motto Always
Free’s Pharmacy
SECOND PRIZE.
“Jim, I see that your mule has U.
S. branded on his right hind .leg. I
suppose he was an army mule and be
longed to Uncle Sam?”
“No, suh—dat U. S. don’t mean
nothin’ ’bout no Uncle Samuel. Dat’s
jess a warnin’. Dat U. .S.’n jes stand
fo’ Un Safe—’at’s all.”
“I am so sorry, Mr. Portly,” apolo
gized the boarding house keeper, “but
I have no cheese in the house.”
“Pray do not mention it, Mrs.
Phipps,” said the genial old boy.
“I’m /.ure—”
His little compliment was cut short
by the small son of his hostess, at his
side, bearing a piece of cheese upon
a plate.
“Well, now, that is very kind of
you, little man,” he said, as the child
stood there, watching him swallow the
tit bit. “You knew more than mother
that time. Where did you find the
cheese?”
The youngster intently watched the
last morsel disappear before he an
swered:
“I found it in the rat-trap.”—Pear
son’s Weekly, London.
A negro customer had been given
ample time to pay his account at a
country store in Alabama, but gave
no heed to threats or warnings. Fi
nally he wrote the proprietor a postal
card with this message: “Inclosed
you will find the $28 which I will bring
the next time I come to the store.”
A man who had just opened a store
in a strange town was interrogating
one of his early customers on the pur
chasing power of the citizens. “Now,
there’s Deacon Brown,” he said. “He
has the reputation of being wealthy.
Would he be likely to spend much
money in here?” “Wa’al,” drawled
the native, reflectively, “I wouldn’t
exactly say that he’d go to hell for a
nickel, but he’d fish around for one
till he fell in.”—Salt Lake Telegram.
Father—When George takes you
home next time you must bid him
good-night at once.
Daughter—Why, dad? I’m sure we
are always very quiet.
“Yes, but the silence is oppressive.”
—Yale Record.
A lass came trippling down the street,
She looked, I’ll say, oh, very neat,
But evidently not discreet:
The street was steep, her pace too
fleet;
She tripped, I say—oh, what a trerf;!
—Cornell Widow.
Proud Father—That is a sunset my
daughter painted. You know she
studied painting abroad.
Student—Ah! That explains it. I
never saw a sunset like that in this
country.—Boston Beanpot.
“Here’s where I pull a good one,”
said the dentist as he fixed his tweez
ers in a sound tooth.—Wisconsin Octo
pus.