Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 December 1892 — IIUMOR OF THE WEEK. [ARTICLE]

IIUMOR OF THE WEEK.

STORIES TOLD BY FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. Manj Odd, Curloos, and Lanfhabla Phase* of Raman Nature Graphically Portrayed by Eminent Word Artists at Our Own Day. Tea-Table Talk. We suppose a sailor comes to be a “tar” as the result of the pitch of his vessel.—Binghamton Leader. It may be that some people enjoy chess because it is necessarily a “square” game.,.—Washington Star. The precocious hopeful does not consider himself up to snuff until he gets down to tobacco.—Dallas News. When a rifle explodes the fault may be in the br,eech, though it is charged to the muzzle.—Boston Courier.

Millionaire Lady (who has just bought a villa)—“Now, Jabe, go out in the barn and see that the hens lay eggs for breakfast.”—Siftings. She —“ Did you see anything in New York that reminded you of Philadelphia?” He—“ Yes; the messenger boys.”—Brooklyn Life. A Poor Judge. —Mr. Newwed—“Um! seems to me, my angel, this hash has a queer taste.” Young Wife —“Hash? That’s fruit cake.”—New York Weekly. When one’s wife follows him out to the liatrack with her hand on his shoulder he inquires involuntary: “How much do you want, my dear?” —Dallas News.

A curious circumstance about organ-grinding music is that the more it’s ground with the same instrument the less flue it becomes.— Philadelphia Press. Will’am—“Father, wl:at b: comes of the crows during the winter season?” Father—“l Lave been told they go South to look after the lost caws.”—Rochester Democrat. “You’re the s’.ecp'cst-looking individual I ever saw,” said Dick to the seedy man on the corner. “Yes, even my coat hasn’t had a nap in some time,” quoth he.—Lost n Post. Frank —“l’ll. never lorget that jolly dinner at the club Jim gave-us before he was married.” Tom—“ You won’t, eh! Why, you forgot all about it before the dinner was over.’’—Life. Little Boy —“ Don't Quakers ever fight?” Mamma—“No, my dear.” Little Boy (after reflection) —“I should think it would be awful hard for areal big Quaker to be a Quaker ” —Good News.

“I think I’ll have an oil portrait made,” said Mr. Derrick, who had become suddenly rich in petroleum. “There you go talking shop again!” exclaimed his wife, who was taking lessons in culture.—Puck. The Easiest Way.— Clerk—“You can call him up on that telephone, if you wish to talk to him.” Stranger —“How far is he from here?” Clerk “About ten miles.” Stranger—- “ Well, I’d rather walk.”—Puck. The Retort Courteous. —A—“lt seems to me that your ears are getting bigger and bigger every day.” B—“ Let me tell you something. My ears and your brain would make a flrst-rate donkey.”—Texas Siftings. Boy —Pop, kin I go to th’ circus? Pop—Circuses is wicked. Boy—The man gave me two tickets fer carryin’ water for the horses. Pop—Urn! A man wot’s as charitable as that can't be very bad. We’ll both go.—Good News. No Need for Hurry.— Miss Hastings (overtaking Miss Slowboy on the way to church)— “Hurry, Tillie, or you'll be late.” Miss Slowboy—“There is no hurry, dear. Let me introduce Mr. Bellows, our organist.”— Puck.

A Cruel Insinuation. Miss Bondclipper—“Bridget, some of my jewelry is missing!” Bridget (who reads the papers)—“Sure, mumr you will ’not be intimating that it’s a member of the English aristocracy that Oi am.”—Texas Siftings. At the Intelligence Office.— Mrs. Hunter—“l want a good girl, and possibly you might do. Have you had any experience?” Domestic Importation Faith, and haven’t Oi hem in no less than twinty families within a month!” —Boston Transcript. What He Objected To. —Mr. Shortweight (dealer in coal) —I want, you to settle for that ton of coal you got a few days ago. A man has to pay for what he gets in this world. Customer—You are right, sir. And when he buys coal he has to pay for a lot he doesn’t get.—Brooklyn Life. Means of Self-destruction.— Morbyd (members of the Suicide Club) —“I have selected strychnine.” Gluemy (another member)—" Thave decided to use a parallel.” “a parallel? What’s that?” “I don’t know, but it’s fatal. The newspapers are always speaking of the deadly parallel. ” —Puck. A Severe Test.— Stranger—Call 7°ur paper a great advertising medium, do you? It isu’t worth shucks. I put in an advertisement last week and didn’t get an answer, not one. Editor—My! my! How was your advertisement worded? Stranger— “A poor young man wants a pretty wife who can do her own housework.”— New York Weekly.

Bulkins was very pious, very fond of the ladies, and very bald on the back of bis head. The other evening he was calling on a girl, and was giving her considerable church talk. “Ah, Miss Mary,” he said, “we are watched over very carefully. Even the hairs of our heads are numbered.” “Yes, Mr. Bulkins,” she replied, “but some of the back numbers of yours appear to be missing.” —Tid-Bits.