Democratic Sentinel, Volume 13, Number 11, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 April 1889 — THE JOLLY JOKERS. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE JOLLY JOKERS.

W e can view with addition of four new States to the Union Tobacco men , object to tobacco smoke—when it is their own factory that is on fire. Women, it is said, live longer than men. This may be true, but of course they never get so old. Honesty is the best policy. The reason we don’t hear more al>out it is probably because it has expired. Western tourist—Got much stock on hand ? Ranchman—Nope, got a right smart bunch on foot, though. Hobbs—Don’t you think Quobbs quite a promising writer? Bobbs—l should say so. Every time he sends me a letter he promises to pay. A glance at the marriage announcement columns in the New York newspapers shows that tie-ups are still prevalent in that city. The clergy encourage them, too. William Merle Smith, formerly pitcher of the Princeton University base-ball team, has delivered his first sermon as a New York pastor. His delivery is swift, but not puzzling. She (softly)—l shall never forget this night—and the ball. He (tenderly) —Tell me why. She—And that last waltz! He—You delight me! She — (more softly than ever) —Yes, you’ve about smashed two of my toes. Wife—Here it is 1 o’clock. What have you got for an excuse this time ? Husband—l was to a “wrestling match.” Wife—Yes, that’s good. I guess by the looks of your clothing that the other fellow won every fall. “How could you help that Mrs. Proudly dress for the opera when you hate her so?” asked Maude. “Because,” replied Bessie, “I wanted to get a chance to put a pin in her dress so that it would be sticking her in the back all evening.”

Gilhooly—lt seems to me that there are fewer marriages than ever before, wonder what is the cause of it ? Gus De Smith—ls young ladies would learn to stick a pin in their apron-strings so that it wouldn’t scratch a fellow’s wrist, there would be more marriages. De Bigsby—What makes you so down in the mouth, Rigley? Bigley (with a long drawn sigh)—Addition to father’s family last night. De Bigsby— Then why the deuce are you so glum ? Was it a boy or a girl? Rigley— Neither. Miss Recusant became my sister. * “Do you see that man going toward the stairwav?” asked one traveling man of another in the office of a hotel. “That big colored man with the checkered blouse on?” “Yes, you might not think it, but he is a man of a great deal of polish.” “Who is he?” “He is the bootblack of the hotel.” Smart wife—Don’t worry, George. I wrote an article for the paper ’ to-day showing how to get up a family dinner for sl, and I took it around and the editor gave me a dollar. Husband— That’s a rare piece of good luck. What are you going to do with the dollar? “I am going to try that recipe myself and see if it will work.”

Young wife—Are you the editress of the Household Department in the Woman’s Companion? Mrs. De Letter —Yes; I have had exclusive charge of that deparmen t for ten years. “I am so glad we are near neighbors. I’m sure you won’t object if I run in once in a while for a little practical help about cooking, will you ? No, indeed. Come in whenever you please—that is, after next week. My cook is away temporarily, and my husband and I are taking our meals at a restaurant.” a suggestion. The old maid sat in her rocking-chair, With thimble, and scissors, and thread, And talked, as she sewed, of her neighbors' faults, Till the minister wished he was dead. But he sat quite still, in his patient way, And heard all her acid talk, While she pounced on this one, and then on that, Like a vicious old hook-beaked hawk. She sewed, as she talked, in a vigorous wav, And pulled the thread through with a jerk, Then she tried the scissors, but they were so dull That she never could make them work. “These scissors are dreadfully dull," said she, As her sewing she angrily flung On a chair; and the minister murmured low: “Then why don’t you use your tongue?’’ —Somerville Journal.

This is not a Midsummer Night’s Dream, but

A Spring Snooze.