Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 11, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 March 1893 — HUMOR OF THE WEEK. [ARTICLE]

HUMOR OF THE WEEK.

STORIES TOLD BY FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. F»njr Odd, Cvrlwa. ud LnihtHt FhMM of Honan Natan Graphically Portrayed by Kiolneat ArtUU of Oar Own Day. Sprinkles of Spice. “That man Kirby Stone was a born (peculator.” “Born with a caul, eh?” —Puck. The figure-head of a college is usuilly the Professor of Mathematics.— Philadelphia Record. It’s queer about shops—they’re lever shut up unless they’re shut lown.—Elmira Gazette. Few men who go into maple-syrup nanufacture make an unadulterated rnccess of it.—Troy Press. If you want to find out what enters into a boy’s composition, ask his school teacher.—Yonkers Statesman. “Ink is cheap.” “I don’t know ibout that. I left a pen full on the lack of a note once that cost me 12,500.”—Puck. “The most important period with February," said the man whose patri>tism runs away with his good taste, ‘is when it cuts its 22th. "—Washington Star. Minnie—“ Honestly, now, didn’t tie drive with one hand as soon as you svere out of town? Mamie—No. He —he drove with the other hand.—lndianapolis Journal. “Do you think, Schmidt, that your iffection for Fraulein Goldstein is reciprocated?” “I really caffit say; I im loving her at present on credit." —Lustige Blaetter. “Mrs. Dovekin’s trip to Scarboriugh was a great success this year." ‘lndeed! Has she got rid of her old trouble?” “No; but she has got rid of her old daughter. ” —Tid-Bits. “I didn’t see anything funny in the story that fellow just told. What made you laugh so over it?” “Do you know who he is?” “No; who is he?” “He’s the head of our firm.”— Life. “I’d like to be very rich," said Tommy. “How rich?” asked his sister. “Oh,” replied the young man, after some thought, “rich enough to wear my Sunday clothes every day. ” —Life. De Gash —l see you have taken a partner. De Curb—Yes, I had to. A. man can’t keep a suburban residence supplied with servants and attend to business, too.—New York Weekly. A new Paris hat is of absinthe green, a fashion journal reports. Tne back-row folks will vote for it if it is a theater hat of the absinthe-makes-the-beait-grow-fonder sort. Philadelphia Ledger. Miss Elderbody —“l met Mr. Blake at the reception last evening.” Miss Pert—“ Yes, he told me saw you. He said it was such a pleasure to meet an old face in such a crowd.”— Boston Transcript. Yabsley —Miss Passay seemed offended at you last evening. What did you say? Mudge—Blessed if I know. I only asked her if she didn’t dread having to wear hoops again.— Indianapolis Journal. Mrs. Good —lsn’t is queer that a man would request that his shroud should not be fastened with a collar button. The Widow—Well, he knew his weakness and didn’t want to make i bad break before St Peter.—Exchange. A Male Owner.— Jake — Here’s an advertisement in th’ paper fer that dog you found. The man wot owns him offers a reward. Jim—How d’ye know it’s a man? - Jake—Th’ paper says, “No questions asked.”—New York Weekly. Daisy— When I get big like you, mamma, I’m going to marry a doctor cr a minister. Mamma—Why, my dear? Daisy—’Cause if I marry a doctor I can get well for nothing, and if I marry a minister I can be good for nothing.—Funny Folks. Citie Hall —They say that Busiman ran away with another woman because his wife never did anything right and constantly irritated and annoyed him. Temple Court—That can’t be the reason. Why, the other woman was bis typewriter.—Truth. “Susan,” said the housewife, “1 thinK that once a week is quite often enough for your sweetheart to be calling here. ” “He ain’t my sweetheart, ” Susan explained. “He’s the man I’m goin’ to marry. D’you s’po'se if I had a sweetheart I’d go an’ spile him by marryin’ him?” —Indianapolis Journal. Teacher— Johnnie, do you think if you had cut down your father’s cherry tree you would have told the truth about it? Johnny (slowly)— No, I don’t believe I would. Teachei —What! you would not tell a falsehood? Johnnie (apologetically)— Well, ma’am, yer see I don't believe Washington’s father was just the same sort of feller as mine.”—Harper’s Bazar.