Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 149, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 June 1910 — EASHES FUN [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

EASHES FUN

"Wind,” wrote a little boy In his composition at school, “is air when It gets in a hurry.” "I never worry or hurry.” “What department of the government service are you in?” —Buffalo Express. Miss Prim —I want a husband who will be easily pleased. Miss Grouch— That’s the kind you’ll get.—Life. Mrs. Benham—You have torn my train! Benhafn—That’s all right; your your train is long enough to be in two sections.—J udge. Howard —Bridget, did my wife come in a few moments ago? Bridget—No, sir. That’s the parrot you hear a-hol-lerin’.—Harper’s Bazar. “Doctor, how do you account for the existence of rheumatism?” “The mind, my dear, evolved the disease to fit the word.”—Chicago Tribune. “Which is the harder to write, verse or jokes?” “Verse comes easier,” replied the press humorist. “You have, to have an idea for a joke." Shopman (to boy who has asked for a penn’orth of pills)—Do you want them in a box? Boy—Yuss, o’ course. Think I’m goin’ to roll ’em home?— Punch. “Were you ever in love?” asked the sweet young thing. “No,” replied the bachelor, “but you can’t mention any other fashionable disease that I have not had.” Teacher—Jimmy, you look very pale this morning. Are you ill? JimmyNo, ma’am. Ma washed my face this morning herself. Woman’s Home Companion. Farmer (at the grindstone)—Well, why don’t yer turn? City NephewNix! Ye don’t fool me ag'in. Whenever I turn, ye go and bear down with the ax! —Life. “How shall I break the newß to my parents that I have failed in my exams?" “Merely telegraph them: ‘Examination over. Nothing new! ’ ’’ — Fliegende Blaetter. 4 “There’s a masked man a\ the back door.” “Horrors! Is he after my diamonds?” “No, madam. He only wants to borrow a can of gasoline'.”—Louisville Courier Journal. “Why don’t you get an automobile?” “I don’t know whether I could manage one or not.” "A poor argument. You took the same chance, didn’t you, when you acquired a wife?" 'V The Poet—Poetry should be written on one side of the paper, shouldn't it? The Editor—That depends on the poetry; lots of it shouldn’t be written 6h either side.—Philadelphia Record. “A man ought to be a good mechanic in order to get satisfactory results irem an automobile.” “Yes,” answered Mr. Chuggins, “but it’s still better to be a good financier."—Washington Star. Poet’s Wise —My husband read this poem at a public celebration before thousands of people. Alas! it was the last, poem he ever wrote. Publisher— Did they lynch him or shoot him?— Leslie’s Weekly. "Ever been locked up?" demanded counsel. “I ’have been,” admited the witness. "Aha! And what had you been doing to get yourself locked up?" “I had been doing jury duty.”—Louisville Courier-Journal. Miss Elder —The idea of his pretending that my hair was gray! Miss Peppery Ridiculous! Miss Elder— Wasn’t it, though? Miss Peppery— Yes, just as If you’d buy gray hair!— Catholic Standard and Times. The Doctor —Mrs. Murphy, you must be at your husband’s side continuously, as you will need to hand Jiim something every litte while. Mrs. Murphy —Niver, doctor! Fur be it from me to hit a man whin he’s down!—Puck. “I thought I ordered quail!” "Dat’a quail, suh.” “Quail nothing! That’s it seed me a-comin’.” "What has that to do with it?” “De sight of a cullud ,'ussol always makes a chicken quail, suh!”

Father—Bobby, I’m surprised to see you crying because a bee stung you. Brace up and act like a man. Bobby —Y-yes; an’ then y-you’d gimme a lickin’. Y-you told me w-what you’d do to me if you e-ever heard me u-usln’ that kind of 1-language. “How can I tell,” asked the customer, “whether I am getting tender meat or not?” “There's only one sure way, ma’am,” said the butcher, "an’ that’s by e&tin’ of it.” “But I have to buy It before 1 can do that.” “Yes’m; that’s the beauty of the prescription.” Guardian —You say you are going to marry a man In order to reform him. That is very noble of you. May I ask who it is? Ward—lt’s Mr. Oolbyrd. Guardian —Indeed? I wasn’t aware that he had any bad habits. Ward—Yes. Hls friends say that he is hemming quite miserly.—London Sketch. “Little boy,” asks the well-meaning reformer, “Is that your mamma over yonder with the beautiful set of furs?’! “Yes, sir,” answers the bright lad. “Well, do you know what poor animal It la that had to suffer in order that your mamma might have the furs with which she adorns herself so proudly?” “Yes, sir—my papa.”—B. C. Saturday Sunset ' “When I was once In danger from a lion,” said an old African explorer, “I tried sitting down and staring at him. as I had no weapons.” “How did it work?” asked his companion. “Perfectly. The Hon didn’t even offer to touch me.” "Strange! How do you account for It?” “Well, sometimes I’ve thought it was because I sat down on a branch of a very tall tree.”