Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 77, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 March 1910 — SHEAR NONSENSE [ARTICLE]

SHEAR NONSENSE

Stella —Two Is company and three is Bella—Divorce.—The Sun. Teacher —How many make a million, Johnny? Johnny—Not many. “Ever had appendicitis?” “No. There ain’t never been a time when I could afford it.”—Detroit Free Press. Barber—Have anything on your face' when I get through, sir? VictimSome skin and a nose, I hope.—Boston Transcript. George—Do you think that I’m good enough for you, darling? DarlingNo, George; but you’re too good for any other girl. The chicken stew has two prices in the bill of fare. How is that, waiter?” "With chicken in it, it is 30 cents, without it, 10.” Mother (looking over her boy’s shoulder) —Your spelling is perfectly 1 terrible. Little Son—This ain’t a spellin’ lesson. It’s a comppsitiori. Politician—Congratulations, Sarah; I’ve been elected. Sarah (with delight)—Honestly? Politician—What difference does that make?—St. Louis Times. The Fathgr—Did mamma punish you to-day, Tommie? The Boy—Yes, sir. “What did she do?” “Made me stay in the house while she was taking her singing lesson!” ’They are going to lock Jones up for the good of the community.” “What’s he done?” “He’s talking of setting Browning’s poems to Ricnard Strauss’ music.”—Cleveland Leader. The Man—No, I don’t suppose that I shall ever marry. I’m too shy, don’t you know, and “faint heart ne’er won fair lady.” The Girl (helping him on) —But I’m not fair; I’m dark. “Why,” asked a Missouri newspaper, “does our State stand at the head m raising mules?” “Because,” said an lowa paper, "that is the only safe place to stand.”—Jack O’Lantern. Teacher—ls you wear one pair of shoes three months, how long will two pairs last? Jimmie—A year. Teacher—Oh, no; how do you get that? Jimmie—l don’t wear any in the summer. “Yes, I do most of my work at night now.” “What’s the reason?” “Why, I’m a Wileyite and cook my food four i*ours, and being a Fletcherite it takes me three hours to eat.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer.. Wifey—Do you think there is a man that could conscientiously say to his wife, “You are the only woman I ever loved?” Hubby—Only one that I can think of. *Who? You, dearest?” “Oh, no, Adam.” —Spare Moments. A woman went to a bank. She noticed that there was a new face behind the window. “Has the cashier gone away to take a rest?” she enquired. “No,” replied the new man; “he has gone away to avoid it.” “How do you extract women’s teeth Without their screaming? You don’t give gas.” “But my office is opposite a millinery display. When the women get absorbed in looking at the hats they’re oblivious to pain.”—Kansas City Times. Young Lady (on first visit to Western ranch) —For what purpose do you use that coll of line on your saddle? Cowpuncher—That line, as you call it, lady, we use for catching cattle and horses. Young Lady—l dare say. Now, may I ask what do you use for bait. * The new housemaid had just opened the door in response to Wigglesby’s ring, “Is Miss Darborough in?” asked Wigglesby. "Yes, sorr, she’s in sorr, but she’s engaged,” said the maid. “Yes, I know,” smiled Wigglesby. “I’m what she’s engaged to.”—Harper’s Weekly. “Then you don’t think I practice what I preach, eh?” queried the minister in talking with one of the deacons. “No, sir. I don’t,” replied the deacon. “You’ve been preachin’ on the subject of resignation for two years an’ ye haven’t resigned yet.”—Ladies’ Home Journal.

Tubb—Old boy, I want to congratulate you on your speech at the banquet last night. O’Sudds (after waiting a moment)—l know you do, pard, and you’re awfully sorry you can’t do it truthfully. I appreciate the effort, just the same. Nasty weather, isn’t it? —Chicago Tribune. Mrs. A. —I do love lobster, but I never have them at home, because ’t seems so inhuman to kill them by putting them in a -kettle cff boiling water. Mrs. B. —Gracious! I, never kill them that way. It would be too horrible; I always put them on in cold water and let them come to a boll. “I regret very much that we cannot use your story,” said the magazine editor, handing back the manuscript "It’s astonishing how much really good literature we are compelled to decline.” "It’s more astonishing, though,” said the disgruntled author of the stqry, “that you never let any of it get into your magazine.’’—Chicago Tribune. Little Nelly told little Anita what she termed a “little fib.” Anita—A fib is the same as a story, and a story is the same as a lie. Nelly—No, it’a not. Anita —Yes, ( It is, because my father said bo, and my father is a professor at the university. Nelly 1 don’t care if he is. My father is a real estate man, and he knows nsoiw ’ about lying than your father.