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May 29.
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Our Weekly Fable In Slang
By BARTON RICHARDS
This education thing is quite some
institution. If it wan’t for education
wo never would have heard of T.
Roosevelt or Jim Thorpe, and we would
Still be eating pie out of our fist. Oh,
there are lots of things we can score
up against this education, for instance
thv twelve course dinner or dyspepsia.
But on the other land there's a limit.'
Look at one of these farmer boys who
Is exposed to education in the little
old red school house for a few years,
and then goes to college for 4 years
and comes out with a degree tacked
onto him that sounds like a well known
brand of underwear, and proceeds to
get a corner on all the money in the
world. And then the chances are that
some day when he goes into a restau
rant a frat brother of his waits on his
table. So you can’t always tell. Educa
tion is either a help or a hindrance.
If you don’t believe it take a a slant at
this little old American army.
I always have to throw in my clutch
for fear of busting out in a 12 clyh.der
laugh when I think of Company G.
Company G you know is from our town
and has two acquaintances of mine in
its roster, who because it isnt their
names, we will call Harold Smith and
Bill Thompson.
Harold certainly had a half nelson
on this education argument. He had
so many degrees hung on him that he
used up a couple of alphabets, and in
college he belonged to ail the frater
nities including the Kappa Kappa Pa
jamas and the Eta Bitae Pies. He talk
ed Greek so fluently that the Greek
restaurant owner offered him a job,
and as for French he could Parley Voo
Fransay just like an order of French
fried potatoes. Taking him by and
large (mostly large because he never
would buy) l.e was the ne plus ultra,
the farthest south, In other words, in
classic lore, that our metropolis of
2,000 boasted of.
Now Bill Thompson was out of luck
in the education melee. He was the
Charybdis of the well known firm of
Scylla and Charybdis, or in the classic
description of Smitty, he was one of
the Hol Polloi, a member of the great
Uuwashed. All the hstory he ever stud
ied was the history of the National
League and when you commenced talk
ing of Bismarck he thought you were
referring to herring. As to music, he
was once asked his opinion of Wagner
and he replied that he thought he was
the best shortstop in the world. So
there you have a picture of our two
friends
When the draft came along Haroln
and Bill were as close in the list as
7 ar I 8 and sure enough they got to
camp about the same time and just by
luck they drew the same company.
Give them both credit for literary as
pirations, they used their spare time
in reading. The difference was that
Harold read Ibsen and Bill read the
manual of arms. When the time came
to classify each rookie Harold admit
ted that he was a philologist, a psych
ologist and aside from a few other
things, an engineer, and so in line with
the policy to give every man an op
portunity to work at his line, he was
TRENCH AND CAMP
put to drawing maps, using a pick as
his instrument. Bill on the other hand
admitted to nothing more than an
ability to get a day’s work out of a
bunch of section hands, and to Harold’s
great disgust Bill was made a sergeant
over his section.
So there you are. What’s the ans
wer. Probably the Top Kicker came
the closest to a bull’s eye when he re
marked that Harold, had everything
but common sense, while that was all
Bill had.
For a moral to this epic we might
say that a man with a college educa
tion and no horse sense is like a
Flivver without gas. Neither one. can
run on its repuatlon.
SELAH.
PHILOSOPHIC PHIL ~
Some of these long faced individuals
who haven’t smiled since the year of
the Big Wind, get our royal angora.
We would suggest an allopathic dose
of optimism administered a la barrel
stave.
In other words SMILE.
Nothing tickles us much more than
to see a man with a 2 cylinder idea
parading it around under a twin six
cover.
The only difference between a man
and a girl is that the girl has instinct
and the man has common sense.
And instinct (usually is about 40
minutes ahead of common sense.
What has become of those erstwhile
atrocities, the sport shirts?
On co
As I walked down
Broad street,
I saw a girl;
I know she was
A girl
Because she wore skirts.
But when I looked
At her face,
I realized
What a wonderful
Thing is
Camouflage.
We now enter upon that part of the
year when the sweet girl grads, for
mulate brand new ideas as to how the
world should be reformed.
Said ideas being brand new each
year.
Did you cumakross with your little
piece of change for the Red Cross?
That’s fine.
Sound the recall.
Yoors —ly,
B. R.
G r i n-A i d s
“How often does your Toad kill a
man?’’ asked a facetious traveling
salesman of a Central branch conduc
tor the other day.
“Just once,” replied the conductor.
Two men were hotly discussing the
merits of a book. Finally one of them
himself an author, said to the other,
“No, John, you can’t appreciate it.
You never wrote a book yourself.”
“No.” retorted John, “and 1 never
laid an egg, but I'm a better judge of
an omelete than any hen in the
state.”
“What class in the draft are you
in?”
“Class B.”~ ■
“What’s that?”
“I’ll be there when I’m called, be
there when it comes time to go over,
and be there when we come back.”
Bob: “Pop. did they have any school
in the Dark Ages?"
Bob’s Pop: "I suppose they had
Knight schools, my son."
ABBREVIATED VERSE.
We once knew a poor young Dr.
Who had a gold watch, but he Hr.
He bought seats for a show.
But the maid couldn’t go,
And what h replied must have Shr.
—Princeton Tiger.
Pall Mall: “Is that friend Black of
yours honest?"
Fatima: “Honest? Why he wouldn’t
even skin a banana.”
—Punch Bowl.
“Why is an American army like ten
times ten?”
“Go on, I’ll try to laugh.”
“Because it makes a Hun-dread.”
—Awgwan.
“And in that battle,” continued the
speaker, “My head was grazed by a
bullet.’’ He pointed in pride to his
very bold pate.
Voice from the gallery: “Not much
grazing there now.”
-—Marquette Tribune.
Young Lady: “Why.it's only six
o’clock and I told you to come after
supper.” , ,
“Fatty” Langsten: "That Is what I
came after.”
—Miss. Collegian,
“Say, what's the matter? This cof
fee tastes awfully muddy.”
“Well, you see it was ground this
morning."
New National Army Man (late of
Italy): Halt!
Second Lieutenant halts.
New N. A.: “Halt!”
Second Lieut.: “Well, you damned
fool I'm halted, what do you want me
to do ?”
New N. A.: “Me don’t know. Orders
to say “Halt” three times, then shoot.”
First Soldier (in the trenches): Ain’t
that just my luck?
Second Soldier: What’s the matter
now?
First Soldier: With all the pretty
girls there are In the States knitting
sweaters for soldiers I have to draw
one with a note pinned to it saying it
was knitted by a man.—Detroit Free
Press.
“The King of Germany," announced
the teacher of a solemn voice, “is call
ed the Kaiser. Now, can any of you
tell me what the ruler of Russia is
■called?”
“The Czar,” roared the class.
“And what is the Czar’s wife known
as?”
Only two voices‘answered this time.
“The Czarina.”
“Ah!” said the teacher, eyeing his
flock fondly. “That is very good. Now,
who will tell me what the Czar’s chil
dren are called?”
“Czardines!” yelled one little boy,
triumphantly, while the master wept.
—Tit-Bits.
First Picket: Here came twenty
Germans to attack us, Bill, I guess
I’ll start for the rear.
Second Picket: You ain't going to
desert your pal like that are you?
“ ’Tain’t that, Bill. But I want to
give the Boches a sportin' chance.”
SY _ STEM.
Patient: Look here, Doc! You told
me you were going to cut out my ap
pendix, but the nurse says you oper
ated on my liver!
Surgeon: Confound that office girl
of mine! She's been mixing up my
card-index files again!
LOOKING FORWARD.
He was a strikingly handsome figure
in his uniform as he started out upon
his round of farewell calls.
“And you'll think of me every single
minute when you’re in those stupid old
trenches?” questioned the sweet young
thing upon whom he first called.
He nodded emphatically. “Every
minute.”
“And you’ll kiss my picture every
night?”
“Twice a night,” he vowed, rashly,
patting the pretty head on his shoul
der.
“And write me long, long letters?”
she insisted.
“Every spare minute I have,” he re
assured her, and hurried away to the
next name on his list.
There were ten in all who received
his promises.
When it was over he sighed. “I
hope,” he murmured, wearily, “there
won’t be much fighting to do ‘over
there.’ I’m going to be so tremendous
ly busy."
—London Opinion.
TOO BUSY _ FOR DETAILS.
Old Lady: Why can’t the Admiralty
tell us how many submarines have
been sunk?
Jack: Well, y’see, mum, we can’t
spare enough divers to walk about the
bottom of the sa and count ’em!
—Sailors’ Magazine.
“I thought you said the foreign gink
was a spy and that he was to be shot
at sunrise."
“So he was, but a fog butted in, and
they wasn’t no sunrise.
—Life.
HIS TRAINING.
Officer: How did you happen to at
tain such proficiency in bayonettlng
when you have never had any prev
ious army experience?
Recruit: I got it in a boarding house
reaching the length of the table for a
piece of steak.
—Life.
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