Jasper County Democrat, Volume 9, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 July 1906 — LITTLE VISITS WITH "UNCLE BY" [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

LITTLE VISITS WITH "UNCLE BY"

I Told You So. Finding a horseshoe is good luck it the horse doesn't kick you. The sweet girl graduate just now Is ’‘hitching wagons to a star." The next vehicle she will start Will be an infant's auto-car! James Whttoomb Riley has abandoned his plan for the building of a hotel for Indiana authors. Presumably the reason Is that no one hotel would be big enough. There was an ok! miner from Nome Who forth to the river did rome! He fished all day long In the shade. Where beetles and dragon-flies plade— Then drank all his bait and went home! Jones loves white peppermint lozenges because they look so much like poker chips—and it’s so easy to buy • stack, doncherknow. Again the story comes forward that bee stings cure rheumatism. A Philadelphia man is taking a regular dose of 100 bee stings a week. Like Josh Billings’ tight boots, the stings ought to make him forget all his other sorrows, including the rheumatism. THESE HOT NIGHTS. I wish I had the money I paid for coal last Fall— I’d buy a ton or two of ice And store It in the hall! I’d get Into tny nightie then And pound tny ear for fair, A-snoozin' on the crystal cakes Just like a polar bear! Another man returns to Insist that he 18 not dead. This time it is the Rev. Mr. Sabine Baring-Gould, author of that popular hymn. “Onward. Christian Soldiers.” The obituary notices in the London papers were most flattering, but inasmuch as the gentleman maintains that he is still in a condition to enjoy reading them, I suppose we must take his word for the assertion that he is yet a live one. REQUI ESCAT. Willie promised to be good— Promised mu he’d split the wood. Told his pa he'd rise at dawn, Feed the cow and mow the lawn. Wanted crackers and a gun For the Fourth. Oh, gee! What fun! But spring fever in the chilli Lured him off toward the wild! With his fishing pole and bait; - He slipped slyly through the gate. Ah, alas! for boyish vow, Willie’s dead and buried now! In the swimming hole he fell— Listen to the doleful bell! If the British tailor who comes to improve the dress of Uncle Sam’s soldiers does not recommend any better fitting clothes than those worn by the average Englishman, his call to America should be looked upon as a Yankee 'joke.