Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 13, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 April 1895 — THE JOKER’S BUDGET. [ARTICLE]

THE JOKER’S BUDGET.

JESTS AND YARNS BY FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. Couldn’t Match It—Salo Made-. Too Poor--For the Family'a Good Name--Etc., Etc. couldn’t match it. The elegantly-attired lady moved quietly up to the glove counter, where there was a new clerk, who was polite and willing enough, but he didn’t know much about the business. ‘‘l want a pair of gloves to match a gray wool dress,” she said. ’’Certainly, Madam,” he replied as he bounced around to the boxes. He dragged down a lot of them, and then turned back to the lady. “I am very sorry, Madam,” he said, ‘‘but we haven’t got a gray wool glove in the house.”—[Detroit Free Press. BALE MADE. It was in a Paris shop. They were on their wedding tour. ‘‘lf I could speak French I’d ask the price of this bit of lace and buy it for you,” said he. “Unfortunately, however, I can’t.” ‘‘l spik ze Angleesh prett goot. Ze lace ees seexty franc,” said the saleswoman, and of course the poor bridegroom had to buy it.—[Harper’s Bazar. TOO POOR. Jane—So you have accepted that old millionaire?” Frou-Frou—Yes, dear. Jane—Why didn't you give the old. thing the mitten? Frou-Frou—Because I hadn’t one. Don’t you know, I’m so poor I couldn’t buy a mitten if yarn were selling at a cent a ton?—[Detroit Free Press. CAUSE FOR CAUTION. “What made you take all that impudence from that fellow?” asked ithe friendly passenger of the conductor. “Why, he didn’t even pay l|isfare.” ‘‘That’s tt,” said the conductor “If he had paid his fare, I’d have bioken his head; but he’s riding on a jass, and maybe he has a pull.”— [Harlem Life. m\ke WORRY FOR THE CHILDREN. "*V a y> Jen,” called little Tommy. “ fljhat?” returned his sister. “ I was just thinkin’—you’ve had to wear ma’s old dresses made |ver an’ I’ve always been stuck with pi’s old clo’es—which of us d’you have things made out o’ ma’s bicycle bloomers when they get old? - ’ —[Chicago Record. A WISH. I’d like to be tough as a football Which feels not the kick that’s a ripper, For then I could smile when my mother Plays a so.o on me with her slipper. —[Harper’s Bazar. HOW HE WON HER. “I will beyotrs,” she whispered. He smoothed the raven hair that lay on the maible brow and murmured passionately; ‘‘Won at last If ‘‘No, not until ve are united in marriage,” and ale laughed softly to herself. \ “That’s one on |e.” «e said. He had forgotteVTlilivtfm,-W!lirthe humorist of the Weekly Bugle.— [New York Press. A DELICATE QUESTION. Father: Ido not require that the man who marries my daughter shall be rich. All that I ask is that he be able to keep out of debt. Suitor: Would you consider a man in debt who borrows money from his father-in-law?—[Life. A SCHEMER. Eaton—Slicksmith, the new boarder, always refers to the contents of the milk pitcher as cream. Lanks—H’m! Wonder what his little game is?—[Puck. PLAIN LANGUAGE. “No,” said Mrs. Fisher, “I don’t call myself a lady, but simply a plain woman.” ‘‘Well,” said Mrs. Candor, “you’re plain enough; that’s a fact.”—[New York Press. THE FINEST KIND. She (reading)—Bells are now made, of steel in this country. He —Yes; but the finest ones are made of silk and satin. IT WOULD SEEM SO. “It is hard towrite a popular comie song.” ‘ ‘I should think writing of any kind would come hard to the writer of a popular comic song.”—[New York Press. EXTENUATING. Friend—Your son has become a great dialect poet. Parent—AV ell, he ain’t entirely to blame. I never could spell mysilf. I suppose he came honestly by its—[Detroit Tribune. I NOT UTTERLY OBJECTIONABLE. I Amy (indignantly)—You are juefc like the villain of a novel 1 Jack —AVell, what ought I to be like—the hero of a novel? Amy—Oh, no! That would be worsa. K,