People's Pilot, Volume 6, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 April 1897 — SMILEOGRAMS. [ARTICLE]

SMILEOGRAMS.

A sick man whom the doctors had pronounced past recovery, called his neighbor itt with whom he had been at sword’s points for years. “John,” he said, “I am goin’ to die; I want you to forgive me for what I’ve done.” “All right. Joe. I alius know’d you’d be sorry some day, so I forgive you.” As John turned to deart, Joe called out to him: “Reimimber, this don’t count if I get well.” An old darky hearing of the bursting of so many banks came to regard it as a new fad,anti thought he must follow suit, as he was chief boot polisher of a fashion able hotel. It was his business to gather up the foot gear of the guests, take them to his den in the basement, shine them up and return them to the owners. One morning Re astonished his customers by returning one of each pair of shoes

with the sage and solemn assurance that “dis firm have dun busted up; fo’ced to rezqom, can’t pay but fifty cent on do dollar, bes’ I kin do, sorry but dat’s de lies’ I kin do.” Old Sims was a pioneer preacher in the mountains of Tennesson. He had a favorite text, “Beware of wolves in sheep’s clothing-.” After exhorting his congregation to heed the text, be would say; “Thar’s only one way you kin tell tho wolves from the sheep, mv brethren, jist put ’em all in a pen together, take a pole an’ punch ’em, an’ the wolves ’ll growl.” If anyone growls at the Arcukk, it’s a sure sign somebody’s been “punched.” John—. Take, can you tell the difference between a doctor and a pumpkin? Jake—No; T gif dot up. John—You’d be a pretty fool to send for a doctor. Jake-—Ha! ha! ha! Dot’s a goot von, shure: I gets my interest back on dot! Ha! lia! ha! Jake —(To the next man he meots)Say, vns you dink if I sent you for a doctor unt you prings me a pumpkin? Ha! Vy doan’ you laugh? Ain’t dotvos funny?” A Poll parrot belonging to a pious old maid was addicted to swearing, it’s mistress, after many ineffectual efforts to break it of tho rude practice, one day ducked it in a tub of water, thinking that would cure it. While it sat dripping on its perch, its mistress brought in a young chicken which she had recovered from the slop barrel. The parrot looked at its own drooping feathers and then at tho half drowned chicken, and in a reproachful tone shrieked, “Ah, ha! damn you, you've been swearing too, have you?”