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“Pa,” said little Joe, "I bet I can do something you can't." "Well, what is it?" demanded his pa.

"Grow," replied the youngster triumphantly.-H. E. Zimmer



He was a New Yorker visiting in a South Carolina village and he sauntered up to a native sitting in front of the general store, and began a conversation.

"Have you heard about the new manner in which the planters are going to pick their cotton this season?" he inquired.

"Don't believe I have," answered the other.

"Well, they have decided to import a lot of monkeys to do the picking," rejoined the New Yorker. "Monkeys learn readily. They are thorough workers, and obviously they will save their employers a small fortune otherwise expended in wages."

"Yes," ejaculated the native, "and about the time this monkey brigade is beginning to work smoothly, a lot of you fool northerners will come tearing down here and set 'em free."


SHE "I consider, John, that sheep are the stupidest creatures living."

HE (absent-mindedly)-"Yes, my lamb."


The late Dr. Henry Thayer, founder of Thayer's Laboratory in Cambridge, was walking along a street one winter morning. The sidewalk was sheeted with ice and the doctor was making his way carefully, as was also a woman going in the opposite direction. In seeking to avoid each other, both slipped

and they came down in a heap. The polite doctor was overwhelmed and his embarrassment paralyzed his speech, but the woman was equal to the occasion.

"Doctor, if you will be kind enough to rise and pick out your legs, I will take what remains," she said cheerfully.

"Help! Help!" cried an Italian laborer near the mud flats of the Harlem river.

"What's the matter there?" came a voice from the construction shanty.

"Queek!, Bringa da shov'! Bringa da peek! Giovanni's stuck in da mud." -*·.

""How far in?"

"Up to hees knees."

“Oh, let him walk out."

"No, no! He no canna walk! He wronga end up!"

There once was a lady from Guam,

Who said, "Now the sea is so calm

I will swim, for a lark";

But she met with a shark.

Let us now sing the ninetieth psalm.

BRICKLAYER (to mate, who had just had a hodful of bricks fall on his feet)—"Dropt 'em on yer toe! That's nothin'. Why, I seen a bloke get killed stone dead, an' 'e never made such a bloomin' fuss as you're doin'."

A preacher had ordered a load of hay from one of his parishioners. About noon, the parishioner's little son came to the house crying lustily. On being asked what the matter was, he said that the load of hay had tipped over in the street. The preacher, a kindly man, assured the little fellow that it was nothing serious, and asked him in to dinner.

"Pa wouldn't like it," said the boy.

But the preacher assured him that he would fix it all right with his father, and urged him to take dinner before going for the hay. After dinner the boy was asked if he were not glad that he had stayed.

"Pa won't like it," he persisted.

The preacher, unable to understand, asked the boy what made him think his father would object.

"Why, you see, pa's under the hay," explained the boy.

There was an old Miss from Antrim,
Who looked for the leak with a glim.
Alack and alas!

The cause was the gas.

We will now sing the fifty-fourth hymn.
--Gilbert K. Chesterton.

There was a young lady named Hannah,
Who slipped on a peel of banana.

More stars she espied

As she lay on her side

Than are found in the Star Spangled Banner.

A gentleman sprang to assist her;

He picked up her glove and her wrister;

"Did you fall, Ma'am?" he cried;

"Did you think," she replied,

"I sat down for the fun of it, Mister?"

At first laying down, as a fact fundamental,
That nothing with God can be accidental.



Hopkinson Smith tells a characteristic story of a southern friend of his, an actor, who, by the way, was in the dramatization of Colonel Carter. On one occasion the actor was appearing in his native town, and remembered an old negro and his wife, who had been body servants in his father's household, with a couple of seats in the theatre. As it happened, he was playing the part of the villain, and was largely concerned with treasons, stratagems and spoils. From time to time he caught a glimpse of the ancient couple in the gal

lery, and judged from their fearsome countenance and popping eyes that they were being duly impressed.

After the play he asked them to come and see him behind the scenes. They sat together for a while in solemn silence, and then the mammy resolutely nudged her husband. The old man gathered himself together with an effort, and said: "Marse Cha'les, mebbe it ain' for us po' niggers to teach ouh young masser 'portment. But we jes' got to tell yo' dat, in all de time we b'long to de fambly,, none o' ouh folks ain' neveh befo' mix up in sechlike dealin's, an' we hope, Marse Cha'les, dat yo' see de erroh of yo' ways befo' yo' done sho' nuff disgrace us."

In a North of England town recently a company of local amateurs produced Hamlet, and the following account of the proceedings appeared in the local paper next morning:

"Last night all the fashionables and elite of our town gathered to witness a performance of Hamlet at the Town Hall. There has been considerable discussion in the press as to whether the play was written by Shakespeare or Bacon. All doubt can be now set at rest. Let their graves be opened; the one who turned over last night is the author."

Suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature. Shakespeare.

To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart;
To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold,
Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold-
For this the tragic muse first trod the stage.



An "Uncle Tom's Cabin" company was starting to parade in a small New England town when a big gander, from a farmyard near at hand waddled to the middle of the street and began to hiss.

One of the double-in-brass actors turned toward the fowl and angrily exclaimed:

"Don't be so dern quick to jump at conclusions. Wait till you see the show."-K. A. Bisbee.

When William H. Crane was younger and less discreet he had a vaunting ambition to play Hamlet. So with his first profits he organized his own company and he went to an inland western town to give vent to his ambition and "try it on."

When he came back to New York a group of friends noticed that the actor appeared to be much downcast.

"What's the matter, Crane? Didn't they appreciate it?" asked one of his friends.

"They didn't seem to," laconically answered the actor.

"Well, didn't they give any encouragement? Didn't they ask you to come before the curtain?" persisted the friend.

"Ask me?" answered Crane. "Man, they dared me!"

LEADING MAN IN TRAVELING COMPANY-"We play Hamlet to-night, laddie, do we not?"

SUB-MANAGER-"Yes, Mr. Montgomery."

Leading Man—"Then I must borrow the sum of two-pence!" SUB-MANAGER "Why?"

LEADING MAN--"I have four days' growth upon my chin. One cannot play Hamlet in a beard!”

SUB-MANAGER-"Um-well-we'll put on Macbeth!"

HE—“But what reason have you for refusing to marry me?" SHE "Papa objects. He says you are an actor."

HE "Give my regards to the old boy and tell him I'm sorry he isn't a newspaper critic."

The hero of the play, after putting up a stiff fight with the villain, had died to slow music.

The audience insisted on his coming before the curtain. He refused to appear.

But the audience still insisted."

Then the manager, a gentleman with a strong accent, came to the front.

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