Democratic Sentinel, Volume 12, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 November 1888 — WIT AND WISDOM. [ARTICLE]

WIT AND WISDOM.

The good that is done in a pleasant way accomplishes most and is most lasting. Happiness is a roadside flower growing on the highway of usefulness and prosperity. The race of mankind would perish did they cease to aid each other.— Wordsworth. A ten-der recollection—that X that Bill Jones borrowed last summer.— Merchant Traveler. The robin that has lost her mate takes a sort of bird-sigh view of the world.— Duluth Picayune. Many persons criticise in order not to seem ignorant; they do not know that indulgence is a mark of the highest culture. This is a funny old world, anyhow, but it is hard to realize it when you are reading the comic papers.— Somerville Journal. The path of life is beset with thorns, and they who are not afraid to encounter them may gather the rare flowers that grow between. The latest theory from a scientist is that a man has two brains. This, however, cannot possibly refer to the cigarette dude.— Baltimore American. Smith—What a dazzling creature your wife is. Brown—Ought to see her without her diamonds. They spoil her conversation.— Detroit Free Press. DocTOßrt(to patient)—Why, you are as red as a raspberry; what have you been drinking? Patient—Can’t understand it. Only drank pale ale. — Detroit Free Press. A man will dislocate his arm trying to hit a base-ball, and spend an entire day in debilitating efforts to make a home run—but he won’t beat a carpet. Not much.— Merchant Traveler. Wit loses its respect with the good when seen in company with malice, and to smile at the jest which plants a thorn in an another’s breast is to become a principal in the mischief.— Sheridan. Elderly maiden lady (to druggist’s boy)—l want to git some soap, young feller. Druggist’s boy—(who has detected that that maiden lady has a slightspspicion of a mustache) —Yes’m; shaTOm soap, I s’pose.— Epoch. Some people pretend that they are never surprised at anything, but even the most obstinate of them finds it difficult to conceal his amazement when he runs his nose against a door-edge in the dark.— Somerville Journal. First dame —What shall we do today ? Let’s go to the matinee. Second dame—Can’t; we haven’t any money. It takes money to go to the theater. “So it does. I did not think of that. Well, let’s go shopping. ” Philadelphia liecord. Bride of a month—We must not forget the Goodhearts, Alfred. If it had not been for their house party this time last year we should never have met and married. Bridegroom of ditto—Nonsense, my dear! they didn’t mean any harm.— Fun. Extravagant young wife—(pocketing a S2O bill) —George, dear. I often wonder why the money you give me to spend is called pin money. Young husband—(with a slight sigh)—Because, like pins, no one knows where it all goes to— Detroit Free Press. “Mr. De Cash asked me to elope with him only the night before he ran away to Canada,” confided Gussie. “And you refused, of course?” “Yes, my dear,” she replied; “as soon as he told me his embezzelment amounted to only $20,000.” — New York Sun. Clara Vere de Vere—lt can never be, never. Mr. Highflyer I was on the top side of that wheat corner, Miss Clara. Look at this bank account. Clara—l do not love you Mr. Highflyer, but I respect you; O, my darling, how deeply I respect you. I am yours.— Philadelphia Record. A like of virtue is a life of health. Self-denial leads to a self-development on higher planes. Patient battling against lower lusts ends in assured victory. To one man, and to one only, is life worth living, and that man is, he who resolves on nothing less than perfection of body, mind and soul. “Did you ever meet Miss Buggies’ father,” said one traveling man to another. “Yes, once or twice.” “Pretty old man, isn’t he?” “Not so very; at any rate he is quite young enough to trip the light fantastic toe.” “The light fantastic toe ?” “Yes, with me on the end of it!”— Merchant Travels). Railroad President—Mr. Jenkins, can’t you suggest some distinctive name for our road, something like the “Bee Line,” or the “Nickel Plate”—something on that plan? Secretary—How would the “True Love” do for a name? “I don’t see the application.” “It never runs smooth.” — Terre Haute Express. Mrs. Bachbeit—lt’s just awful, I think, the way that Mrs. Golding lets young Hardup dangle around after her day in and day out. But it’s to be expected, I suppose, when an old fool like Golding marries a giddy young girl. Mrs. Polly Gist—You oughtn’t to talk that way about her. She’s awfully good to the old fellow, they say. Mrs. Bachbeit —Yes? Almost too good to be true.— Terre Haute Express.