FAILURES

Little Ikey came up to his father with a very solemn face. "Is it true, father," he asked, "that marriage is a failure?"

His father surveyed him thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, Ikey," he finally replied, "If you get a rich wife, it's almost as good as a failure."

Faith is that quality which leads a man to expect that his flowers and garden will resemble the views shown on the seed packets.—Country Life in America.

"What is faith, Johnny?" asks the Sunday school teacher.

"Pa says," answers Johnny, "that it's readin' in the papers that the price o' things has come down, an expectin' to find it true when the bills comes in."

Faith is believing the dentist when he says it isn't going to hurt.

"As I understand it, Doctor, if I believe I'm well, I'll be well. Is that the idea?"

"It is."

"Then, if you believe you are paid, I suppose you'll be paid."

"Not necessarily."

"But why shouldn't faith work as well in one case as in the other?"

"Why, you see, there is considerable difference between having faith in Providence and having faith in you."—Horace Zimmerman.

Mother had been having considerable argument with her infant daughter as to whether the latter was going to be left alone in a dark room to go to sleep. As a clincher, the mother said: "There is no reason at all why you should be afraid. Remember that God is here all the time, and, besides, you have your dolly. Now go to sleep like a good little girl." Twenty minutes later a wail came from upstairs, and mother went to the foot of the stairs to pacify her daughter. "Don't cry," she said; "remember what I told you—God is there with you and you have your dolly." "But I don't want them," wailed the baby; "I want you, muvver; I want somebody here that has got a skin face on them."

Faith is a fine inventionFor gentlemen who see;But Microscopes are prudentIn an emergency.—Emily Dickinson.

Faith is a fine inventionFor gentlemen who see;But Microscopes are prudentIn an emergency.

Faith is a fine invention

For gentlemen who see;

But Microscopes are prudent

In an emergency.

—Emily Dickinson.

A wizened little Irishman applied for a job loading a ship. At first they said he was too small, but he finally persuaded them to give him a trial. He seemed to be making good, and they gradually increased the size of his load until on the last trip he was carrying a 300-pound anvil under each arm. When he was half-way across the gangplank it broke and the Irishman fell in. With a great splashing and spluttering he came to the surface.

"T'row me a rope, I say!" he shouted again. Once more he sank. A third time he rose struggling.

"Say!" he spluttered angrily, "if one uv you shpalpeens don't hurry up an' t'row me a rope I'm goin' to drop one uv these damn t'ings!"

Fame is the feeling that you are the constant subject of admiration on the part of people who are not thinking of you.

Many a man thinks he has become famous when he has merely happened to meet an editor who was hard up for material.

Were not this desire of fame very strong, the difficulty of obtaining it, and the danger of losing it when obtained, would be sufficient to deter a man from so vain a pursuit.—Addison.

"Yes, sir, our household represents the United Kingdom of Great Britain," said the proud father of number one to the rector. "I am English, my wife's Irish, the nurse is Scotch and the baby wails."

Mrs. O'Flarity is a scrub lady, and she had been absent from her duties for several days. Upon her return her employer asked her the reason for her absence.

"Sure, I've been carin' for wan of me sick children," she replied.

"And how many children have you, Mrs. O'Flarity?" he asked.

"Siven in all," she replied. "Four by the third wife of me second husband; three by the second wife of me furst."

A man descended from an excursion train and was wearily making his way to the street-car, followed by his wife and fourteen children, when a policeman touched him on the shoulder and said:

"Come along wid me."

"What for?"

"Blamed if I know; but when ye're locked up I'll go back and find out why that crowd was following ye."

Happy are we met, Happy have we been,Happy may we part, and Happy meet again.

Happy are we met, Happy have we been,

Happy may we part, and Happy meet again.

A dear old citizen went to the cars the other day to see his daughter off on a journey. Securing her a seat he passed out of the car and went around to the car window to say a last parting word. While he was leaving the car the daughter crossed the aisle to speak to a friend, and at the same time a grim old maid took the seat and moved up to the window.

Unaware of the change the old gentleman hurriedly put his head up to the window and said: "One more kiss, pet."

In another instant the point of a cotton umbrella was thrust from the window, followed by the wrathful injunction: "Scat, you gray-headed wretch!"

"I am going to make my farewell tour in Shakespeare. What shall be the play? Hamlet? Macbeth?"

"This is your sixth farewell tour, I believe."

"Well, yes."

"I would suggest 'Much Adieu About Nothing'."

"Farewell!"For in that word—that fatal word—howe'erWe promise—hope—believe—there breathes despair.—Byron.

"Farewell!"For in that word—that fatal word—howe'erWe promise—hope—believe—there breathes despair.

"Farewell!"

For in that word—that fatal word—howe'er

We promise—hope—believe—there breathes despair.

—Byron.

There are two kinds of women: The fashionable ones and those who are comfortable.—Tom P. Morgan.

There had been a dressmaker in the house and Minnie had listened to long discussions about the very latest fashions. That night when she said her prayers, she added a new petition, uttered with unwonted fervency:

"And, dear Lord, please make us all very stylish."

Nothing is thought rareWhich is not new, and follow'd; yet we knowThat what was worn some twenty years agoComes into grace again.—Beaumont and Fletcher.

Nothing is thought rareWhich is not new, and follow'd; yet we knowThat what was worn some twenty years agoComes into grace again.

Nothing is thought rare

Which is not new, and follow'd; yet we know

That what was worn some twenty years ago

Comes into grace again.

—Beaumont and Fletcher.

As good be out of the World as out of the Fashion.—Colley Cibber.

Fate hit me very hard one day.I cried: "What is my fault?What have I done? What causes, pray,This unprovoked assault?"She paused, then said: "Darned if I know;I really can't explain."Then just before she turned to goShe whacked me once again!—La Touche Hancock.

Fate hit me very hard one day.

I cried: "What is my fault?

What have I done? What causes, pray,

This unprovoked assault?"

She paused, then said: "Darned if I know;

I really can't explain."

Then just before she turned to go

She whacked me once again!

—La Touche Hancock.

So in the Libyan fable it is toldThat once an eagle stricken with a dart,Said, when he saw the fashion of the shaft,"With our own feathers, not by others' hands,Are we now smitten."—Aeschylus.

So in the Libyan fable it is toldThat once an eagle stricken with a dart,Said, when he saw the fashion of the shaft,"With our own feathers, not by others' hands,Are we now smitten."

So in the Libyan fable it is told

That once an eagle stricken with a dart,

Said, when he saw the fashion of the shaft,

"With our own feathers, not by others' hands,

Are we now smitten."

—Aeschylus.

A director of one of the great transcontinental railroads was showing his three-year-old daughter the pictures in a work on natural history. Pointing to a picture of a zebra, he asked the baby to tell him what it represented. Baby answered "Coty."

Pointing to a picture of a tiger in the same way, she answered "Kitty." Then a lion, and she answered "Doggy." Elated with her seeming quick perception, he then turned to the picture of a Chimpanzee and said:

"Baby, what is this?"

"Papa."

Women's faults are many,Men have only two—Everything they say,And everything they do.—Le Crabbe.

Women's faults are many,Men have only two—Everything they say,And everything they do.

Women's faults are many,

Men have only two—

Everything they say,

And everything they do.

—Le Crabbe.

SeeTips.

BIG MAN (with a grouch)—"Will you be so kind as to get off my feet?"

LITTLE MAN (with a bundle)—"I'll try, sir. Is it much of a walk?"

"Who gave ye th' black eye, Jim?"

"Nobody give it t' me; I had t' fight fer it."—Life.

"There! You have a black eye, and your nose is bruised, and your coat is torn to bits," said Mamma, as her youngest appeared at the door. "How many times have I told you not to play with that bad Jenkins boy?"

"Now, look here, Mother," said Bobby, "do I look as if we'd been playing?"

Two of the leading attorneys of Memphis, who had been warm friends for years, happened to be opposing counsel in a case some time ago. The older of the two was a man of magnificent physique, almost six feet four, and built in proportion, while the younger was barely five feet and weighed not more than ninety pounds.

In the course of his argument the big man unwittingly made some remark that aroused the ire of his small adversary. A moment later he felt a great pulling and tugging at his coat tails. Looking down, he was greatly astonished to see his opponent wildly gesticulating and dancing around him.

"What on earth are you trying to do there, Dudley?" he asked.

"By Gawd, suh, I'm fightin', suh!"

An Irishman boasted that he could lick any man in Boston, yes, Massachusetts, and finally he added New England. When he came to, he said: "I tried to cover too much territory."

"Dose Irish make me sick, alvays talking about vat gread fighders dey are," said a Teutonic resident of Hoboken, with great contempt. "Vhy, at Minna's vedding der odder night dot drunken Mike O'Hooligan butted in, und me und mein bruder, und mein cousin Fritz und mein frient Louie Hartmann—vhy, we pretty near kicked him oudt of der house!"

VILLAGE GROCER—"What are you running for, sonny?"

BOY—"I'm tryin' to keep two fellers from fightin'."

VILLAGE GROCER—"Who are the fellows?"

BOY—"Bill Perkins and me!"—Puck.

An aged, gray-haired and very wrinkled old woman, arrayed in the outlandish calico costume of the mountains, was summoned as a witness in court to tell what she knew about a fight in her house. She took the witness-stand with evidences of backwardness and proverbial Bourbon verdancy. The Judge asked her in a kindly voice what took place. She insisted it did not amount to much, but the Judge by his persistency finally got her to tell the story of the bloody fracas.

"Now, I tell ye, Jedge, it didn't amount to nuthn'. The fust I knowed about it was when Bill Saunder called Tom Smith a liar, en Tom knocked him down with a stick o' wood. One o' Bill's friends then cut Tom with a knife, slicin' a big chunk out o' him. Then Sam Jones, who was a friend of Tom's, shot the other feller and two more shot him, en three or four others got cut right smart by somebody. That nachly caused some excitement, Jedge, en then they commenced fightin'."

"Do you mean to say such a physical wreck as he gave you that black eye?" asked the magistrate.

"Sure, your honor, he wasn't a physical wreck till after he gave me the black eye," replied the complaining wife.—London Telegraph.

A pessimistic young man dining alone in a restaurant ordered broiled live lobster. When the waiter put it on the table it was obviously minus one claw. The pessimistic young man promptly kicked. The waiter said it was unavoidable—there had been a fight in the kitchen between two lobsters. The other one had torn off one of the claws of this lobster and had eaten it. The young man pushed the lobster over toward the waiter. "Take it away," he said wearily, "and bring me the winner."

There never was a good war or a bad peace.—Benjamin Franklin.

The master-secret in fighting is to strike once, but in the right place.—John C. Snaith.

Willie had a savings bank;'Twas made of painted tin.He passed it 'round among the boys,Who put their pennies in.Then Willie wrecked that bank and boughtSweetmeats and chewing gum.And to the other envious ladsHe never offered some."What will we do?" his mother said:"It is a sad mischance."His father said: "We'll cultivateHis gift for high finance."—Washington Star.

Willie had a savings bank;'Twas made of painted tin.He passed it 'round among the boys,Who put their pennies in.

Willie had a savings bank;

'Twas made of painted tin.

He passed it 'round among the boys,

Who put their pennies in.

Then Willie wrecked that bank and boughtSweetmeats and chewing gum.And to the other envious ladsHe never offered some.

Then Willie wrecked that bank and bought

Sweetmeats and chewing gum.

And to the other envious lads

He never offered some.

"What will we do?" his mother said:"It is a sad mischance."His father said: "We'll cultivateHis gift for high finance."

"What will we do?" his mother said:

"It is a sad mischance."

His father said: "We'll cultivate

His gift for high finance."

—Washington Star.

HICKS—"I've got to borrow $200 somewhere."

WICKS—"Take my advice and borrow $300 while you are about it."

"But I only need $200."

"That doesn't make any difference. Borrow $300 and pay back $100 of it in two installments at intervals of a month or so. Then the man that you borrow from will think he is going to get the rest of it."

It is said J. P. Morgan could raise $10,000,000 on his check any minute; but the man who is raising a large family on $9 a week is a greater financier than Morgan.

To modernize an old prophecy, "out of the mouths of babes shall come much worldly wisdom." Mr. K. has two boys whom he dearly loves. One day he gave each a dollar to spend. After much bargaining, they brought home a wonderful four-wheeled steamboat and a beautiful train of cars. For awhile the transportation business flourished, and all was well, but one day Craig explained to his father that while business had been good, he could do much better if he only had the capital to buy a train of cars like Joe's. His arguments must have been good, for the money was forthcoming. Soon after, little Toe, with probably less logic but more loving, became possessed of a dollar to buy a steamboat like Craig's. But Mr. K., who had furnished the additional capital, looked in vain for the improved service. The new rolling stock was not in evidence, and explanations were vague and unsatisfactory, as is often the case in the railroad game at which men play. It took a stern court of inquiry to develop the fact that the railroad and steamship had simply changed hands—and at a mutual profit of one hundred per cent. And Mr. K., as he told his neighbor, said it was worth that much to know that his boys would not need much of a legacy from him.—P.A. Kershaw.

An old artisan who prided himself on his ability to drive a close bargain contracted to paint a huge barn in the neighborhood for the small sum of twelve dollars.

"Why on earth did you agree to do it for so little?" his brother inquired.

"Well," said the old painter, "you see, the owner is a mighty unreliable man. If I'd said I'd charge him twenty-five dollars, likely he'd have only paid me nineteen. And if I charge him twelve dollars, he may not pay me but nine. So I thought it over, and decided to paint it for twelve dollars, so I wouldn't lose so much."

MISTRESS (to new servant)—"Why, Bridget, this is the third time I've had to tell you about the finger-bowls. Didn't the lady you last worked for have them on the table?"

BRIDGET—"No, mum; her friends always washed their hands before they came."

Clang, clatter, bang! Down the street came the fire engines.

Driving along ahead, oblivious of any danger, was a farmer in a ramshackle old buggy. A policeman yelled at him: "Hi there, look out! The fire department's coming."

Turning in by the curb the farmer watched the hose cart, salvage wagon and engine whiz past. Then he turned out into the street again and drove on. Barely had he started when the hook and ladder came tearing along. The rear wheel of the big truck slewed into the farmer's buggy, smashing it to smithereens and sending the farmer sprawling into the gutter. The policeman ran to his assistance.

"Didn't I tell ye to keep out of the way?" he demanded crossly. "Didn't I tell ye the fire department was comin"?"

"Wall, consarn ye," said the peeved farmer, "Ididgit outer the way for th' fire department. But what in tarnation was them drunken painters in sech an all-fired hurry fer?"

Two Irishmen fresh from Ireland had just landed in New York and engaged a room in the top story of a hotel. Mike, being very sleepy, threw himself on the bed and was soon fast asleep. The sights were so new and strange to Pat that he sat at the window looking out. Soon an alarm of fire was rung in and a fire-engine rushed by throwing up sparks of fire and clouds of smoke. This greatly excited Pat, who called to his comrade to get up and come to the window, but Mike was fast asleep. Another engine soon followed the first, spouting smoke and fire like the former. This was too much for poor Pat, who rushed excitedly to the bedside, and shaking his friend called loudly:

"Mike, Mike, wake up! They are moving Hell, and two loads have gone by already."

Fire escape: A steel stairway on the exterior of a building, erected after a FIRE to ESCAPE the law.

"Ikey, I hear you had a fire last Thursday."

"Sh! Next Thursday."

The father of the family hurried to the telephone and called up the family physician. "Our little boy is sick, Doctor," he said, "so please come at once."

"I can't get over much under an hour," said the doctor.

"Oh please do, Doctor. You see, my wife has a book on 'What to Do Before the Doctor Comes,' and I'm so afraid she'll do it before you get here!"

NURSE GIRL—"Oh, ma'am, what shall I do? The twins have fallen down the well!"

FOND PARENT—"Dear me! how annoying! Just go into the library and get the last number ofThe Modern Mother's Magazine; it contains an article on 'How to Bring Up Children.'"

SURGEON AT NEW YORK HOSPITAL—"What brought you to this dreadful condition? Were you run over by a street-car?"

PATIENT—"No, sir; I fainted, and was brought to by a member of the Society of First Aid to the Injured."—Life.

A prominent physician was recently called to his telephone by a colored woman formerly in the service of his wife. In great agitation the woman advised the physician that her youngest child was in a bad way.

"What seems to be the trouble?" asked the doctor.

"Doc, she done swallered a bottle of ink!"

"I'll be over there in a short while to see her," said the doctor. "Have you done anything for her?"

"I done give her three pieces o' blottin'-paper, Doc," said the colored woman doubtfully.

A man went into a restaurant recently and said, "Give me a half dozen fried oysters."

"Sorry, sah," answered the waiter, "but we's all out o' shell fish, sah, 'ceptin' eggs."

Little Elizabeth and her mother were having luncheon together, and the mother, who always tried to impress facts upon her young daughter, said:

"These little sardines, Elizabeth, are sometimes eaten by the larger fish."

Elizabeth gazed at the sardines in wonder, and then asked:

"But, mother, how do the large fish get the cans open?"

At the birth of President Cleveland's second child no scales could be found to weigh the baby. Finally the scales that the President always used to weigh the fish he caught on his trips were brought up from the cellar, and the child was found to weigh twenty-five pounds.

"Doin' any good?" asked the curious individual on the bridge.

"Any good?" answered the fisherman, in the creek below. "Why I caught forty bass out o' here yesterday."

"Say, do you know who I am?" asked the man on the bridge.

The fisherman replied that he did not.

"Well, I am the county fish and game warden."

The angler, after a moment's thought, exclaimed, "Say, do you know who I am?"

"No," the officer replied.

"Well, I'm the biggest liar in eastern Indiana," said the crafty angler, with a grin.

A young lady who had returned from a tour through Italy with her father informed a friend that he liked all the Italian cities, but most of all he loved Venice.

"Ah, Venice, to be sure!" said the friend. "I can readily understand that your father would like Venice, with its gondolas, and St. Markses and Michelangelos."

"Oh, no," the young lady interrupted, "it wasn't that. He liked it because he could sit in the hotel and fish from the window."

Smith the other day went fishing. He caught nothing, so on his way back home he telephoned to his provision dealer to send a dozen of bass around to his house.

He got home late himself. His wife said to him on his arrival:

"Well, what luck?"

"Why, splendid luck, of course," he replied. "Didn't the boy bring that dozen bass I gave him?"

Mrs. Smith started. Then she smiled.

"Well, yes, I suppose he did," she said. "There they are."

And she showed poor Smith a dozen bottles of Bass's ale.

"You'll be a man like one of us some day," said the patronizing sportsman to a lad who was throwing his line into the same stream.

"Yes, sir," he answered, "I s'pose I will some day, but I b'lieve I'd rather stay small and ketch a few fish."

The more worthless a man, the more fish he can catch.

As no man is born an artist, so no man is born an angler.—Izaak Walton.

A man was telling some friends about a proposed fishing trip to a lake in Colorado which he had in contemplation.

"Are there any trout out there?" asked one friend.

"Thousands of 'em," replied Mr. Wharry.

"Will they bite easily?" asked another friend.

"Will they?" said Mr. Wharry. "Why they're absolutely vicious. A man has to hide behind a tree to bait a hook."

"I got a bite—I got a bite!" sang out a tiny girl member of a fishing party. But when an older brother hurriedly drew in the line there was only a bare hook. "Where's the fish?" he asked. "He unbit and div," said the child.

The late Justice Brewer was with a party of New York friends on a fishing trip in the Adirondacks, and around the camp fire one evening the talk naturally ran on big fish. When it came his turn the jurist began, uncertain as to how he was going to come out:

"We were fishing one time on the Grand Banks for—er—for—"

"Whales," somebody suggested.

"No," said the Justice, "we were baiting with whales."

"Lo, Jim! Fishin'?"

"Naw; drowning worms."

We may say of angling as Dr. Boteler said of strawberries: "Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did"; and so (if I might be judge), God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling.—Izaak Walton.

"Hello, Tom, old man, got your new flat fitted up yet?"

"Not quite," answered the friend. "Say, do you know where I can buy a folding toothbrush?"

She hadn't told her mother yet of their first quarrel, but she took refuge in a flood of tears.

"Before we were married you said you'd lay down your life for me," she sobbed.

"I know it," he returned solemnly; "but this confounded flat is so tiny that there's no place to lay anything down."

With a sigh she laid down the magazine article upon Daniel O'Connell. "The day of great men," she said, "is gone forever."

"But the day of beautiful women is not," he responded.

She smiled and blushed. "I was only joking," she explained, hurriedly.

MAGISTRATE (about to commit for trial)—"You certainly effected the robbery in a remarkably ingenious way; in fact, with quite exceptional cunning."

PRISONER—"Now, yer honor, no flattery, please; no flattery, I begs yer."

OLD MAID—"But why should a great strong man like you be found begging?"

WAYFARER—"Dear lady, it is the only profession I know in which a gentleman can address a beautiful woman without an introduction."

William —— was said to be the ugliest, though the most lovable, man in Louisiana. On returning to the plantation after a short absence, his brother said:

"Willie, I met in New Orleans a Mrs. Forrester who is a great admirer of yours. She said, though, that it wasn't so much the brillancy of your mental attainments as your marvelous physical and facial beauty which charmed and delighted her."

"Edmund," cried William earnestly, "that is a wicked lie, but tell it to me again!"

"You seem to be an able-bodied man. You ought to be strong enough to work."

"I know, mum. And you seem to be beautiful enough to go on the stage, but evidently you prefer the simple life."

After that speech he got a square meal and no reference to the woodpile.

O, that men's ears should beTo counsel deaf, but not to flattery!—Shakespeare.

O, that men's ears should beTo counsel deaf, but not to flattery!

O, that men's ears should be

To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!

—Shakespeare.

SeePure food.

It sometimes takes a girl a long time to learn that a flirtation is attention without intention.

"There's a belief that summer girls are always fickle."

"Yes, I got engaged on that theory, but it looks as if I'm in for a wedding or a breach of promise suit."

A teacher in one of the primary grades of the public school had noticed a striking platonic friendship that existed between Tommy and little Mary, two of her pupils.

Tommy was a bright enough youngster, but he wasn't disposed to prosecute his studies with much energy, and his teacher said that unless he stirred himself before the end of the year he wouldn't be promoted.

"You must study harder," she told him, "or you won't pass. How would you like to stay back in this class another year and have little Mary go ahead of you?"

"Ah," said Tommy. "I guess there'll be other little Marys."

Lulu was watching her mother working among the flowers. "Mama, I know why flowers grow," she said; "they want to get out of the dirt."

A man went into a southern restaurant not long ago and asked for a piece of old-fashioned Washington pie. The waiter, not understanding and yet unwilling to concede his lack of knowledge, brought the customer a piece of chocolate cake.

"No, no, my friend," said the smiling man. "I meantGeorgeWashington, notBookerWashington."

One day a pastor was calling upon a dear old lady, one of the "pillars" of the church to which they both belonged. As he thought of her long and useful life, and looked upon her sweet, placid countenance bearing but few tokens of her ninety-two years of earthly pilgrimage, he was moved to ask her, "My dear Mrs. S., what has been the chief source of your strength and sustenance during all these years? What has appealed to you as the real basis of your unusual vigor of mind and body, and has been to you an unfailing comfort through joy and sorrow? Tell me, that I may pass the secret on to others, and, if possible, profit by it myself."

The old lady thought a moment, then lifting her eyes, dim with age, yet kindling with sweet memories of the past, answered briefly, "Victuals."—Sarah L. Tenney.

A girl reading in a paper that fish was excellent brain-food wrote to the editor:

Dear Sir: Seeing as you say how fish is good for the brains, what kind of fish shall I eat?

To this the editor replied:

Dear Miss: Judging from the composition of your letter I should advise you to eat a whale.

A hungry customer seated himself at a table in a quick-lunch restaurant and ordered a chicken pie. When it arrived he raised the lid and sat gazing at the contents intently for a while. Finally he called the waiter.

"Look here, Sam," he said, "what did I order?"

"Chicken pie, sah."

"And what have you brought me?"

"Chicken pie, sah."

"Chicken pie, you black rascal!" the customer replied. "Chicken pie? Why, there's not a piece of chicken in it, and never was."

"Dat's right, boss—dey ain't no chicken in it."

"Then why do you call it chicken pie? I never heard of such a thing."

"Dat's all right, boss. Dey don't have to be no chicken in a chicken pie. Dey ain't no dog in a dog biscuit, is dey?"