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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.