Democratic Sentinel, Volume 11, Number 22, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 July 1887 — HUMOR. [ARTICLE]

HUMOR.

Well trained—Railroad employe*. When is water not water? When it is dripping. A cool thousand— l,ooo pounds of ice. Washington Hat het. Fish are generally found in schools, and, like all scholars, they are inclined to “play hookey."— lioxton Post. There are two things whose drawing power has never been excelled—the circus and the porous plaster. The difference between the lover and the epicure is, one lives to love and the other loves to live.— Texas Siftirlgs. “The gold enslaves me that I make," Jay Gould, 'tls said, has stated; We ll tear his fetters so he may Become emancipated. —Texas Siftings. Lightning nover strikes twice in the same place, but a youug widow isn’t afraid to try it again.— Newman's Independent. “What are you doing there, you rascal?” “Merely takiug cold, sir." “It looks to me as if you were stealing ice.” “Well, yes, perhaps it will bear that construction.” In the dining-room of respectable society it is not considered correct to put your fingers into the plate before you. But at ohurch, into the plate that is set before you, all are expected to put their alms. Punch. Texan —Yes, mebbe you wouldn't think it, but I made my pile out of watered stock. New Yorker—l shouldn’t judgo so from your appearance. Texan —No, perhaps not; but you can’t expect to make much out of the creeturs if you let ’em go thirsty. — N(w Haven News. “Have you ‘Hours of Idleness’ here ?” the maiden asked, as she sauntered into the second-hand book store. “No, wo haven’t, Miss,” said the youth behind the counter. “The boss is an old skinflint, and when we ain’t doing any business he keeps us dusting the books.”— Poston Courier. “Well, I never quarrel with any one," remarked a quiet but crossgrained and sarcastic individual in a down-town office. “No, jierhaps not,” remarked a gentleman seated near, “but you give others plenty of opportunity of quarroling with you.” Did you ever have such an acquaintance? Philadelphia Call. THE WAIL OK A LOVER. In pious garb Clorinda goes, Her Backcloth fits, ’tie tailor-made, , And on her head ashes—of roso 1 A Donnot of roliglous shade. Her conversation, onoe so chic, Is all of charities and slums ; Her bang looks out of curl and meot, The curate now iu favor oomos. Tbe pompous fellow little knows Upon what dangerous ground he’s troading; When Easter comes I’ll pardon foes; He shall officiate at our wedding. —Life.

“1 was out across the prairie about ten miles west of here, ” said a Dakota man in a part of the Territory recently opened to settlement, "and I noticed that they appear to be starting a town out there.” “Lots of houses going up?” "There wasnjt a house in sight, but there was a man out on the prairie with a hand-press printing a newspaEer and some more men digging a big ole in the ground—l guess they were workmen starting a soldiers’ home or normal school or some such public institut on that the Legislature must have located there.” —Dakota Bell.