Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 78, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 April 1910 — FLASHES OF FUN [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

FLASHES OF FUN

“Do you give your wife an allowance?” “No, she takes it.”—Chlcagi Record-Herald. Jones (at the ball, to Mrs. Catterson) —How beautifully your daughter sits out her dances. —Life. ‘You used to be an awful spendthrift.” “Yep. But I ain’t any longer.” “Ah! Reformed?" “No—l spent It all.” —Cleveland Leader. “Who was the greatest financier ever known?” “Noah; because he floated his stock when the whole world was In liquidation."— I Tit-Bits. “I never dare to look down when I’m standing on a high place,” said Mrs. Lapsling. “It always gives ms an attack of verdigris.”—Chicago Tribune. Miss Rogers—How did you imagins anything so beautiful as the angel in your picture? Artist—Got an engaged man to describe his fiancee to me.— ■ Brooklyn Life. “Do you like my new hat?” asked Mrs. Brooke. “Yes, indeed,” replied Mrs. Lynn. “I had one just like It when they were in style.”—Lippincott’s Magazine. “How did you enjoy the musicale?” “Oh, I applauded at the wrong time, as usual. Thought the orchestra tuning up was a classical number.”—Kansas City Journal. “I want to look at some dresses suitable for automoblling,” said the lady. “Yes, ma’am," replied the polite clerk; “these walking skirts are the thing." —Yonkers Statesman. Pedestrian—How far is it to Aidershot? Let me see. Well, as the crow flies Footsore • Tommy—Never mind ’ow (he beggar flies; ’ow far is it as the beggar ’ops?—Punch. Caller—How pleased you must be to find that your new cook Is a stayer; Hostess—My dear, don’t mention it. She’s a stayer, all right, but unfortunately she’s not a cook.—Boston Transcript. Mr. Figg—Gasser says he kept perfectly cool last night when that burglar got Into the house. Mrs. Flgg—So his wife told me. She found him trying to hide in the refrigerator.—Boston Transcript. “Do you ever find it desirable to oppose your wife?” “Yes,” answered Mr. Meekton. “I always feel less likely to annoy Henrietta If I can avoid being her partner in a bridge game.” —Washington Star. “Father,” said Little Rollo, “what Is a happy medium?” “I suppose, my son, that it is one who can earn several hundred dollars a day by making tables and chairs move around the room.’’—Washington Star. “Meg!” No answer. “Maggie!” he called softly. Complete silence. “Madge!” Not a sound. “Margaret!" Then he whistled softly before making his final effort. “Marguerite!” And a flute-like voice replied in the distance—“ Yes, darling!” Physician—Have you any aches or pains this morning? Patient—Yesdoctor; it hurts me to breathe; ip fact, the only trouble now seems to be with my breath. Physician—AlT right. PH give you something that will soon stop that—Boston Globe. Yes, admitted the modest young man. “I have broken off the engagement. I have been thinking it over for a long time, and I’ve come to the conclusion that a girl who can love an idiot like me must be wanting in both taste and intelligence!” Father-in-Law—l suppose you are aware, Henry, that the check for $lO,000 I put among your wedding presents was merely for effect. Groom— Oh, yes, sir! and the effect was excellent. The bank cashed It this morning without a question.—Boston Transcript.— Irate Woman—These photographs of myself and husband are not at all satisfactory, and I refuse to accept them. Why, my husband looks like a baboon! Photographer—Well, that’s no fault of mine, madam. You should have thought of that before you had him taken. “I have a good position to offer a worthy college graduate. I presume you have some fine young man In your senior class?” “Sure,” said the professor. “What are your requirements? Would a football player suit you, or do you prefer a mandolin expert?" Washington Herald. Proud “Autumn" Father—Bless me, it’s really marvelous about that baby of mine. You’ll hardly credit It, but every time It lookß up Into my face It smiles —positively smiles. The “Fedup” Friend-Well, I suppose even a baby has some glimmering sense of humor. —The Sketch. “Johnny,” Bald the boy’s moths!-, “I hope you have been a nice, quiet boy at school this afternoon." “That’s what I was," answered Johnny. “I went to sleep right after dinner, and the teacher said , she’d whip any boy In the room who waked me up.” -Boston Sunday Post “Well,” said a traveler In <the train one evening, “speaking of long lives, my dear aunt died at the age of one hundred and six.” 'That’s nothing,” said a drummer. “J .Jm4 a grandmother who died at two hundred and twenty-three.” —“Do jou want us to believe that a relation of yours died at two hundred and twenty-three? It la not only improba/ble, but utterly impossible,” snapped the first "Not at all. She died at two hundred and twenty-three Broad street” -