Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 25, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 July 1892 — HUMOR OF THE WEEK. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

HUMOR OF THE WEEK.

STORIES TOLD BY FUNNY MEN OP THE PRESS. Many Odd, Curious, and Laughable Phase, of Human Nature Graphically Portrayed by Eminent Word Artist, d Our Own flay. Knocked Hi. Eye Out. A young and promising oculist of this town attended a meeting of the Impromptu club the other evening and was called on by the young woman in the chair to make a few remarks. “On what subject, may I ask?” he responded, promptly. “On Niagara Tails.” “But I never was there and am not prepared to treat the subject as it should be,” he pleaded. “Indeed!” and the fair creature in the chair smiled bewitchingly. “I beg your pardon. I thought oculists knew all about the treatment of cataracts. ” —Exchange. No So Mean as Xha*. Old Goldacre (to young Spendfast)— Well, I suppose you want to take my daughter away from me? Young Spendfast No, no; not so bad as that. I only want to marry her.—Judge. A Difference In Travelers. “In your travels through Japan, Mr. A 1 lover, did you not often observe things that shocked your—your sense of propriety?” “Very seldom, Miss De Prewd. I was never on the lookout for things of that kind. ” —lndianapolis Journal. A Mitigated Kefn sal. John—Will you have me, Sarah? Sarah—No, John, but you may have me if you like. Belonged to the “400.” Tom—Hullo! Invitations are out for a swell dance in Horticultural Hall on the 18th. Wonder why they left me out? Jack —Probably on account of their haughty culture. —Harvard Lampoon. No Now Suits to Buy. Tommy—Paw, teacher wants us to tell where is “the land of steady habits. ” Mr. Figg—The penitentiary, I suppose. They wear the same style there the year round.—lndianapolis Journal. A Friend in Need. Philanthropist—Why are you crying so, my child. • Little Girl—Please, sir, me mudder sent me wid fifty cints fer to git bread wid, an’ I lost it in that there dark alleyway. I’ll be licked terrible. Philanthropist—Well, well, my poor child; dry your tears. 1 Here is—a match. Perhaps you may be able to find it.—Puck. Love Me, Love My Bogs#

Johnnie—Why—dash it all—Ethel, I didn’t invite the animals! Ethel—Oh! I never stir without them. Johnnie—Well, it’ll be a deuced funny thing if we can stir with them. —Judge. Modern Farming. Bunker—l see that Ducklow, who lives out of the city now, has made quite a success at faming. Hill—Yes, I understood that he was making money from it, and I didn’t know how he managed it. " Bunker—Easy enough. His farm is right off the railroad track, and he got all the clothing men in town to put their ads in his back yard.—Texas Siftings. She Doved Kim. “Gwendoline, darling, do you love me?” “Have you satisfied my father with regard to your social and financial standing?” “I have.” “And I am to have the elegant establishment you promised?” “You are.” “Horses, carriages, diamonds, and so forth?” “Everything.” » ' “Then Ido love you, Reginald. . New York Press. Very Natural Conclusion. O’Reilly (being entertained by the cook, who produces a bottle of olives) —You’ll exchuse me, Norah, but it’s me privit apinyin that these plums is shpoiled. Norah—Sure, thim is not plums; thim is alives, ah’ they kirn from Shpain. O’Reilly—Be hivins! thin they must have kim in the shteerage.— J udge. Holding Back. Witherby—There's a button almost off your coat, old man. You ought to call your wife’s attention to it. Yon Blumer (sadly)—l’m going to as soon as I can save up enough money to get her a new gown.—Puck. A Chip of the Old Block. Binjo—What’s the matter with your clothes, BobbieSt Bobbie (meekly) —I fell down on my way from school. Binjo—Who licked?—New York Sun.