SUFFRAGETTES

I'd rather be a Could BeIf I could not be an Are;For a Could Be is a May Be,With a chance of touching par.I'd rather be a Has BeenThan a Might Have Been, by far;For a Might Have Been has never been,But a Has was once an Are.'Tis not in mortals to command success,But we'll do more, Sempronius,—We'll deserve it.—Addison.There are two ways of rising in the world: either by one's own industry or profiting by the foolishness of others.—La Bruyère.Success is counted sweetestBy those who ne'er succeed.—Emily Dickinson.See alsoMaking good.SUFFRAGETTESWhen a married woman goes out to look after her rights, her husband is usually left at home to look after his wrongs.—Child Harold."'Ullo, Bill, 'ow's things with yer?""Lookin' up, Tom, lookin' up.""Igh cost o' livin' not 'ittin' yer, Bill?""Not so 'ard, Tom—not so 'ard. The missus 'as went 'orf on a hunger stroike and me butcher's bills is cut in arf!"I'd hate t' be married t' a suffragette an' have t' eat Battle Creek breakfasts.—Abe Martin.FIRST ENGLISHMAN—"Why do you allow your wife to be a militant suffragette?"SECOND ENGLISHMAN—"When she's busy wrecking things outside we have comparative peace at home."—Life.Recipe for a suffragette:To the power that already lies in her handsYou add equal rights with the gents;You'll find votes that used to bring two or three plunks,Marked down to ninety-eight cents.When Mrs. Pankhurst, the English suffragette, was in America she met and became very much attached to Mrs. Lee Preston, a New York woman of singular cleverness of mind and personal attraction. After the acquaintance had ripened somewhat Mrs. Pankhurst ventured to say:"I do hope, Mrs. Preston, that you are a suffragette.""Oh, dear no!" replied Mrs. Preston; "you know, Mrs. Pankhurst, I am happily married."BILL—"Jake said he was going to break up the suffragette meeting the other night. Were his plans carried out?"DILL—"No, Jake was."—Life.SLASHER—"Been in a fight?"MASHER—"No. I tried to flirt with a pretty suffragette."—Judge."What sort of a ticket does your suffragette club favor?""Well," replied young Mrs. Torkins, "if we owned right up, I think most of us would prefer matinée tickets."See alsoWoman suffrage.SUICIDEThe Chinese Consul at San Francisco, at a recent dinner, discussed his country's customs."There is one custom," said a young girl, "that I can't understand—and that is the Chinese custom of committing suicide by eating gold-leaf. I can't understand how gold-leaf can kill.""The partaker, no doubt," smiled the Consul, "succumbs from a consciousness of inward gilt."SUMMER RESORTSGABE—"What are you going back to that place for this summer? Why, last year it was all mosquitoes and no fishing."STEVE—"The owner tells me that he has crossed the mosquitoes with the fish, and guarantees a bite every second.""I suppose," said the city man, "there are some queer characters around an old village like this.""You'll find a good many," admitted the native, "when the hotels fill up."SUNDAYAlbert was a solemn-eyed, spiritual-looking child. "Nurse," he said one day, leaving his blocks and laying his hand on her knee, "nurse, is this God's day?""No, dear," said the nurse, "this is not Sunday; it is Thursday.""I'm so sorry," he said, sadly, and went back to his blocks.The next day and the next in his serious manner he asked the same question, and the nurse tearfully said to the cook:"That child is too good for this world."On Sunday the question was repeated, and the nurse, with a sob in her voice, said: "Yes, lambie, this is God's day.""Then where is the funny paper?" he demanded.TEACHER—"Good little boys do not skate on Sunday, Corky. Don't you think that is very nice of them?"CORKY—"Sure t'ing!"TEACHER—"And why is it nice of them, Corky?"CORKY—"Aw, it leaves more room on de ice! See?"Of all the days that's in the week,I dearly love but one day,And that's the day that comes betwixtA Saturday and Monday.—Henry Carey.O day of rest! How beautiful, how fair,How welcome to the weary and the old!Day of the Lord! and truce to earthly care!Day of the Lord, as all our days should be!—Longfellow.SUNDAY SCHOOLS"Now, Willie," said the superintendent's little boy, addressing the blacksmith's little boy, who had come over for a frolic, "we'll play 'Sabbath School.' You give me a nickel every Sunday for six months, and then at Christmas I'll give you a ten-cent bag of candy."When Lottie returned from her first visit to Sunday-school, she was asked what she had learned."God made the world in six days and was arrested on the seventh day," was her version of the lesson imparted.The teacher asked: "When did Moses live?"After the silence had become painful she ordered: "Open your Old Testaments. What does it say there?"A boy answered: "Moses, 4000.""Now," said the teacher, "why didn't you know when Moses lived?""Well," replied the boy, "I thought it was his telephone number,"—Suburban Life."How many of you boys," asked the Sunday-school superintendent, "can bring two other boys next Sunday?"There was no response until a new recruit raised his hand hesitatingly."Well, William?""I can't bring two, but there's one little feller I can lick, and I'll do my damnedest to bring him."SUPERSTITIONSuperstition is a premature explanation overstaying its time.—George Iles.SURPRISE"Where are you goin', ma?" asked the youngest of five children."I'm going to a surprise party, my dear," answered the mother."Are we all goin', too?""No, dear. You weren't invited."After a few moments' deep thought:"Say, ma, then don't you think they'd be lots more surprised if you did take us all?"SWIMMERSTwo negro roustabouts at New Orleans were continually bragging about their ability as long distance swimmers and a steamboat man got up a match. The man who swam the longest distance was to receive $5. The Alabama Whale immediately stripped on the dock, but the Human Steamboat said he had some business and would return in a few minutes. The Whale swam the river four or five times for exercise and by that time the Human Steamboat returned. He wore a pair of swimming trunks and had a sheet iron cook stove strapped on his back. Tied around his neck were a dozen packages containing bread, flour, bacon and other eatables. The Whale gazed at his opponent in amazement."Whar yo' vittles?" demanded the Human Steamboat."Vittles fo' what?" asked the Whale."Don't yo' ask me fo' nothin' on the way ovah," warned the Steamboat. "Mah fust stop is New York an' mah next stop is London."SYMPATHYA sympathizer is a fellow that's for you as long as it don't cost anything.Dwight L. Moody was riding in a car one day when it was hailed by a man much the worse for liquor, who presently staggered along the car between two rows of well-dressed people, regardless of tender feet.Murmurs and complaints arose on all sides and demands were heard that the offender should be ejected at once.But amid the storm of abuse one friendly voice was raised. Mr. Moody rose from his seat, saying:"No, no, friends! Let the man sit down and be quiet."The drunken one turned, and, seizing the famous evangelist by the hand, exclaimed:"Thank ye, sir—thank ye! I see you know what it is to be drunk."The man rushed excitedly into the smoking car. "A lady has fainted in the next car! Has anybody got any whiskey?" he asked.Instantly a half-dozen flasks were thrust out to him. Taking the nearest one, he turned the bottle up and took a big drink, then, handing the flask back, said, "Thank you. It always did make me feel sick to see a lady faint."A tramp went to a farmhouse, and sitting down in the front yard began to eat the grass.The housewife's heart went out to him: "Poor man, you must indeed be hungry. Come around to the back."The tramp beamed and winked at the hired man."There," said the housewife, when the tramp hove in sight, pointing to a circle of green grass, "try that: you will find that grass so much longer."Strengthen me by sympathizing with my strength, not my weakness.—Amos Bronson Alcott.SYNONYMS"I don't believe any two words in the English language are synonymous.""Oh, I don't know. What's the matter with 'raise' and 'lift'?""There's a big difference. I 'raise' chickens and have a neighbor who has been known to 'lift' them."TABLE MANNERSSeeDining.TACTIt was at the private theatricals, and the young man wished to compliment his hostess, saying:"Madam, you played your part splendidly. It fits you to perfection.""I'm afraid not. A young and pretty woman is needed for that part," said the smiling hostess."But, madam, you have positively proved the contrary."TAFT, WILLIAM HOWARDWhen Mr. Taft was on his campaigning tour in the west, before he had been elected President, he stopped at the home of an old friend. It was a small house, not well built, and as he walked about in his room the unsubstantial little house fairly shook with his tread. When he got into bed that receptacle, unused to so much weight, gave way, precipitating Taft on the floor.His friend hurried to his door."What's the matter, Bill?""Oh, I'm all right, I guess," Taft called out to his friend good-naturedly; "but say, Joe, if you don't find me here in the morning look in the cellar."One morning a few summers ago President Taft, wearing the largest bathing suit known to modern times, threw his substantial form into the cooling waves of Beverly Bay. Shortly afterward one neighbor said to another: "Let's go bathing.""How can we?" was the response. "The President is using the ocean."TALENTSeeActors and actresses.TALKERSSome years ago, Mark Twain was a guest of honor at an opera box-party given by a prominent member of New York society. The hostess had been particularly talkative all during the performance—to Mr. Clemens's increasing irritation.Toward the end of the opera, she turned to him and said gushingly:"Oh, my dear Mr. Clemens, I do so want you to be with us next Friday evening. I'm certain you will like it the opera will be 'Tosca.'""Charmed, I'm sure," replied Clemens. "I've never heard you in that."It was a beautiful evening and Ole, who had screwed up courage to take Mary for a ride, was carried away by the magic of the night."Mary," he asked, "will you marry me?""Yes, Ole," she answered softly.Ole lapsed into a silence that at last became painful to his fiancée."Ole," she said desperately, "why don't you say something?""Ay tank," Ole replied, "they bane too much said already.""Sir," said the sleek-looking agent, approaching the desk of the meek, meaching-looking man and opening one of those folding thingumjigs showing styles of binding, "I believe I can interest you in this massive set of books containing the speeches of the world's greatest orators. Seventy volumes, one dollar down and one dollar a month until the price, six hundred and eighty dollars has been paid. This set of books gives you the most celebrated speeches of the greatest talkers the world has ever known and—""Let me see the index," said the meek man.The agent handed it to him and he looked through it carefully and methodically, running his finger along the list of names.Reaching the end he handed the index back to the agent and said: "It isn't what you claim it is. I happen to know the greatest talker in the world, and you haven't her in the index."A guest was expected for dinner and Bobby had received five cents as the price of his silence during the meal. He was as quiet as a mouse until, discovering that his favorite dessert was being served, he could no longer curb his enthusiasm. He drew the coin from his pocket, and rolling it across the table, exclaimed: "Here's your nickel, Mamma. I'd rather talk."A belated voyager in search of hilarity stumbled home after one o'clock and found his wife waiting for him. The curtain lecture that followed was of unusual virulence, and in the midst of it he fell asleep. Awakening a few hours later he found his wife still pouring forth a regular cascade of denunciation. Eyeing her sleepily he said curiously,"Say, are you talking yet or again?""You must not talk all the time, Ethel," said the mother who had been interrupted."When will I be old enough to, Mama?" asked the little girl.While the late Justice Brewer was judge in a minor court he was presiding at the trial of a wife's suit for separation and alimony. The defendant acknowledged that he hadn't spoken to his wife in five years, and Judge Brewer put in a question."What explanation have you," he asked severely, "for not speaking to your wife in five years?""Your Honor," replied the husband, "I didn't like to interrupt the lady."She was in an imaginative mood."Henry, dear," she said after talking two hours without a recess, "I sometimes wish I were a mermaid.""It would be fatal," snapped her weary hubby."Fatal! In what way?""Why, you couldn't keep your mouth closed long enough to keep from drowning."And after that, Henry did not get any supper."Here comes Blinkers. He's got a new baby, and he'll talk us to death.""Well, here comes a neighbor of mine who has a new setter dog. Let's introduce them and leave them to their fate."—Life.A street-car was getting under way when two women, rushing from opposite sides of the street to greet each other, met right in the middle of the car-track and in front of the car. There the two stopped and began to talk. The car stopped, too, but the women did not appear to realize that it was there. Certain of the passengers, whose heads were immediately thrust out of the windows to ascertain what the trouble was, began to make sarcastic remarks, but the two women heeded them not.Finally the motorman showed that he had a saving sense of humor. Leaning over the dash-board, he inquired, in the gentlest of tones:"Pardon me, ladies, but shall I get you a couple of chairs?"A—"I used a word in speaking to my wife which offended her sorely a week ago. She has not spoken a syllable to me since."B—"Would you mind telling me what it was?"In general those who have nothing to say Contrive to spend the longest time in doing it.—Lowell.See alsoWives.TARDINESS"You'll be late for supper, sonny," said the merchant, in passing a small boy who was carrying a package."No, I won't," was the reply. "I've dot de meat."—Mabel Long."How does it happen that you are five minutes late at school this morning?" the teacher asked severely."Please, ma'am," said Ethel, "I must have overwashed myself."TARIFFWhy not have an illuminated sign on the statue of Liberty saying, "America expects every man to pay his duty?"—Kent Packard.TASTE"It isn't wise for a painter to be too frank in his criticisms," said Robert Henri at a luncheon. "I know a very outspoken painter whose little daughter called at a friend's house and said:'Show me your new parlor rug, won't you, please?'"So, with great pride, the hostess led the little girl into the drawing-room, and raised all the blinds, so that the light might stream in abundantly upon the gorgeous colors of an expensive Kirmanshah.The little girl stared down at the rug in silence. Then, as she turned away, she said in a rather disappointed voice:"'It doesn't makemesick!'"TEACHERSA rural school has a pretty girl as its teacher, but she was much troubled because many of her pupils were late every morning. At last she made the announcement that she would kiss the first pupil to arrive at the schoolhouse the next morning. At sunrise the largest three boys of her class were sitting on the doorstep of the schoolhouse, and by six o'clock every boy in the school and four of the directors were waiting for her to arrive."Why did you break your engagement with that school teacher?""If I failed to show up at her house every evening, she expected me to bring a written excuse signed by my mother."Among the youngsters belonging to a colege settlement in a New England city was one little girl who returned to her humble home with glowing accounts of the new teacher."She's a perfect lady," exclaimed the enthusiastic youngster.The child's mother gave her a doubtful look. "How doyouknow?" she said. "You've only known her two days.""It's easy enough tellin'," continued the child. "I know she's a perfect lady, because she makes you feel polite all the time."MOTHER—"The teacher complains you have not had a correct lesson for a month; why is it?"SON—"She always kisses me when I get them right."There was a meeting of the new teachers and the old. It was a sort of love feast, reception or whatever you call it. Anyhow all the teachers got together and pretended they didn't have a care in the world. After the eats were et the symposiarch proposed a toast:"Long Live Our Teachers!"It was drunk enthusiastically. One of the new teachers was called on to respond. He modestly accepted. His answer was:"What On?"TEACHER—"Now, Willie, where did you get that chewing gum? I want the truth."WILLIE—"You don't want the truth, teacher, an' I'd ruther not tell a lie."TEACHER—"How dare you say I don't want the truth! Tell me at once where you got that chewing-gum."WILLIE—"Under your desk."Grave is the Master's look; his forehead wearsThick rows of wrinkles, prints of worrying cares:Uneasy lie the heads of all that rule,His worst of all whose kingdom is a school.—0.W. Holmes.TEARSTwo Irishmen who had just landed were eating their dinner in a hotel, when Pat spied a bottle of horseradish. Not knowing what it was he partook of a big mouthful, which brought tears to his eyes.Mike, seeing Pat crying, exclaimed: "Phat be ye cryin' fer?"Pat, wishing to have Mike fooled also, exclaimed: "I'm crying fer me poor ould mother, who's dead way over in Ireland."By and by Mike took some of the radish, whereupon tears filledhiseyes. Pat, seeing them, asked his friend what he was crying for.Mike replied: "Because ye didn't die at the same time yer poor ould mother did."TEETHThere was an old man of Tarentum,Who gnashed his false teeth till he bent 'em:And when asked for the costOf what he had lost,Said, "I really can't tell for I rent 'em!"—Gilbert K. Chesterton.Pat came to the office with his jaw very much swollen from a tooth he desired to have pulled. But when the suffering son of Erin got into the dentist's chair and saw the gleaming pair of forceps approaching his face, he positively refused to open his mouth.The dentist quietly told his office boy to prick his patient with a pin, and when Pat opened his mouth to yell the dentist seized the tooth, and out it came."It didn't hurt as much as you expected it would, did it?" the dentist asked smiling."Well, no," replied Pat hesitatingly, as if doubting the truthfulness of his admission. "But," he added, placing his hand on the spot where the boy jabbed him with the pin, "begorra, little did I think the roots would reach down like that."An Irishman with one side of his face badly swollen stepped into Dr. Wicten's office and inquired if the dentist was in. "I am the dentist," said the doctor."Well, then, I want ye to see what's the matter wid me tooth."The doctor examined the offending molar, and explained: "The nerve is dead; that's what's the matter.""Thin, be the powers," the Irishman exclaimed, "the other teeth must be houldin' a wake over it!"For there was never yet philosopherThat could endure the toothache patiently.—Shakespeare.TELEPHONETwo girls were talking over the wire. Both were discussing what they should wear to the Christmas party. In the midst of this important conversation a masculine voice interrupted, asking humbly for a number. One of the girls became indignant and scornfully asked:"What line do you think you are on, anyhow?""Well," said the man, "I am not sure, but, judging from what I have heard, I should say I was on a clothesline."When Grover Cleveland's little girl was quite young her father once telephoned to the White House from Chicago and asked Mrs. Cleveland to bring the child to the 'phone. Lifting the little one up to the instrument, Mrs. Cleveland watched her expression change from bewilderment to wonder and then to fear. It was surely her father's voice—yet she looked at the telephone incredulously. After examining the tiny opening in the receiver the little girl burst into tears. "Oh, Mamma!" she sobbed. "How can we ever get Papa out of that little hole?"New York Elks are having a lot of fun with a member of their lodge, a Fifteenth Street jeweler. The other day his wife was in the jewelry store when the 'phone rang. She answered it."I want to speak to Mr. H——," said a woman's voice."Who is this?' demanded the jeweler's wife."Elizabeth.""Well, Elizabeth, this is his wife. Now, madam, what do you want?""I want to talk to Mr. H——.""You'll talk to me.""Please let me speak to Mr. H——."The jeweler's wife grew angry. "Look here, young lady," she said, "who are you that calls my husband and insists on talking to him?""I'm the telephone operator at Elizabeth, N.J.," came the reply.And now the Elks take turns calling the jeweler up and telling him it's Elizabeth.OPERATOR—"Number, please."SUBSCRIBER—"I vas talking mit my husband und now I don't hear him any more. You must of pushed him off de vire."A German woman called up Central and instructed her as follows:"Ist dis de mittle? Veil dis is Lena. Hang my hustband on dis line. I vant to speak mit him."In China when the subscriber rings up exchange the operator may be expected to ask:"What number does the honorable son of the moon and stars desire?""Hohi, two-three."Silence. Then the exchange resumes."Will the honorable person graciously forgive the inadequacy of the insignificant service and permit this humbled slave of the wire to inform him that the never-to-be-sufficiently censured line is busy?"Recipe for a telephone operator:To fearful and wonderful rolling of "r's,"And a voice cold as thirty below,Add a dash of red pepper, some ginger and sassIf you leave out the "o" in "hello"!TEMPERHearing the crash of china Dinah's mistress arrived in time to see her favorite coffee-set in pieces. The sight was too much for her mercurial temper. "Dinah," she said, "I cannot stand it any longer. I want you to go. I want you to go soon, I want you to go right now.""Lawzee," replied Dinah, "this surely am a co-instence. I was this very minute cogitatin' that same thought in my own mind—I want to go, I thank the good Lawd I kin go, and I pity your husband, ma'am, that he can't go."TEMPERANCEA Boston deacon who was a zealous advocate for the cause of temperance employed a carpenter to make some alterations in his home. In repairing a corner near the fireplace, it was found necessary to remove the wainscot, when some things were brought to light which greatly astonished the workman. A brace of decanters, sundry bottles containing "something to take," a pitcher, and tumblers were cosily reposing in their snug quarters. The joiner ran to the proprietor with the intelligence."Well, I declare!" exclaimed the deacon. "That is curious, sure enough. It must be old Captain Bunce that left those things there when he occupied the premises thirty years since.""Perhaps he did, returned the discoverer, but, Deacon, that ice in the pitcher must have been well frozen to remain solid."—Abbie C. Dixon.Here's to a temperance supper,With water in glasses tall,And coffee and tea to end withAnd me not there at all.The best prohibition story of the season comes from Kansas where, it is said, a local candidate stored a lot of printed prohibition literature in his barn, but accidentally left the door open and a herd of milch cows came in and ate all the pamphlets. As a result every cow in the herd went dry.—Adrian Times.A Michigan citizen recently received a letter from a Kentucky whisky house, requesting him to send them the names of a dozen or more persons who would like to get some fine whisky shipped to them at a very low price. The letter wound up by saying:"We will give you a commission on all the orders sent in by parties whose names you send us."The Michigan man belonged to a practical joke class, and filled in the names of some of his prohibition friends on the blank spaces left for that purpose.He had forgotten all about his supposed practical joke when Monday he received another letter from the same house. He supposed it was a request for some more names, and was just about to throw the communication in the waste basket when it occurred to him to send the name of another old friend to the whisky house. He accordingly tore open the envelope, and came near collapsing when he found a check for $4.80, representing his commission on the sale of whisky to the parties whose names he had sent in about three weeks before.Abstinence is as easy to me as temperance would be difficult.—Samuel Johnson.TEXASThe bigness of Texas is evident from a cursory examination of the map. But its effect upon the people of that state is not generally known. It is about six hundred miles from Brownsville, at the bottom of the map, to Dallas, which is several hundreds of miles from the top of the map. Hence the following conversation in Brownsville recently between two of the old-time residents:"Where have you been lately, Bob? I ain't seen much of you.""Been on a trip north.""Where'd you go?""Went to Dallas.""Have a good time?""Naw; I never did like them damn Yankees, anyway."TEXTSIn the Tennessee mountains a mountaineer preacher, who had declared colleges "the works of the devil," was preaching without previous meditation an inspirational sermon from the text, "The voice of the turtle shall be heard in the land." Not noting that the margin read "turtle-dove," he proceeded in this manner:"This text, my hearers, strikes me as one of the most peculiar texts in the whole book, because we all know that a turtle ain't got no voice. But by the inward enlightenment I begin to see the meaning and will expose it to you. Down in the hollers by the streams and ponds you have gone in the springtime, my brethren, and observed the little turtles, a-sleeping on the logs. But at the sound of the approach of a human being, they wentkerflop-kerplunk, down into the water. This I say, then, is the meaning of the prophet: he, speakinging figgeratively, referred to thekerflopof the turtle as thevoiceof the turtle, and hence we see that in those early times the prophet, looking down at the ages to come, clearly taught and prophesied the doctrine I have always preached to this congregation—that immersion is the only form of baptism."John D. Rockefeller, Jr., once asked a clergyman to give him an appropriate Bible verse on which to base an address which he was to make at the latter's church."I was thinking," said young Rockefeller, "that I would take the verse from the Twenty-third Psalm: 'The Lord is my shepherd.' Would that seem appropriate?""Quite," said the clergyman; "but do you really want an appropriate verse?""I certainly do," was the reply."Well, then," said the clergyman, with a twinkle in his eye, "I would select the verse in the same Psalm: 'Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.'"THEATER"Say, old man," chattered the press-agent, who had cornered a producer of motion-picture plays, "I've got a grand idea for a film-drama. Listen to the impromptu scenario: Scene one, exterior of a Broadway theater, with the ticket-speculators getting the coin in handfuls, and—""You're out!" interrupted the producer. "Why, don't you know that the law don't permit us to show an actual robbery on the screen?"—P.H. Carey."Why don't women have the same sense of humor that men possess?" asked Mr. Torkins."Perhaps," answered his wife gently, "it's because we don't attend the same theaters."It appears that at the rehearsal of a play, a wonderful climax had been reached, which was to be heightened by the effective use of the usual thunder and lightning. The stage-carpenter was given the order. The words were spoken, and instantly a noise which resembled a succession of pistol-shots was heard off the wings."What on earth are you doing, man?" shouted the manager, rushing behind the scenes. "Do you call that thunder? It's not a bit like it.""Awfully sorry, sir," responded the carpenter; "but the fact is, sir, I couldn't hear you because of the storm. That was real thunder, sir!"Everybody has his own theater, in which he is manager, actor, prompter, playwright, sceneshifter, boxkeeper, doorkeeper, all in one, and audience into the bargain.—J.C. and A.W. Hare.THIEVESGEORGIA LAWYER (to colored prisoner)—"Well, Ras, so you want me to defend you. Have you any money?"RASTUS—"No; but I'se got a mule, and a few chickens, and a hog or two."LAWYER—"Those will do very nicely. Now, let's see; what do they accuse you of stealing?"RASTUS—"Oh, a mule, and a few chickens, and a hog or two."At a dinner given by the prime minister of a little kingdom on the Balkan Peninsula, a distinguished diplomat complained to his host that the minister of justice, who had been sitting on his left, had stolen his watch."Ah, he shouldn't have done that," said the prime minister, in tones of annoyance. "I will get it back for you."Sure enough, toward the end of the evening the watch was returned to its owner."And what did he say?" asked the diplomat."Sh-h," cautioned the host, glancing anxiously about him. "He doesn't know that I have got it back."Senator "Bob" Taylor, of Tennessee, tells a story of how, when he was "Fiddling Bob," governor of that state, an old negress came to him and said:"Massa Gov'na, we's mighty po' this winter, and Ah wish you would pardon mah old man. He is a fiddler same as you is, and he's in the pen'tentry.""What was he put in for?" asked the governor."Stead of workin' fo' it that good-fo'-nothin' nigger done stole some bacon.""If he is good for nothing what do you want him back for?""Well, yo' see, we's all out of bacon ag'in," said the old negress innocently."Did ye see as Jim got ten years' penal for stealing that 'oss?""Serve 'im right, too. Why didn't 'e buy the 'oss and not pay for 'im like any other gentleman?"Some time ago a crowd of Bowery sports went over to Philadelphia to see a prize fight. One "wise guy," who, among other things, is something of a pickpocket, was so sure of the result that he was willing to bet on it."The Kid's goin' t' win. It's a pipe," he told a friend.The friend expressed doubts."Sure he'll win," the pickpocket persisted. "I'll bet you a gold watch he wins."Still the friend doubted."Why," exclaimed the pickpocket, "I'm willin' to bet you a good gold watch he wins! Y' know what I'll do? Come through the train with me now, an' y' can pick out any old watch y' like."

I'd rather be a Could Be

If I could not be an Are;

For a Could Be is a May Be,

With a chance of touching par.

I'd rather be a Has Been

Than a Might Have Been, by far;

For a Might Have Been has never been,

But a Has was once an Are.

'Tis not in mortals to command success,But we'll do more, Sempronius,—We'll deserve it.—Addison.

'Tis not in mortals to command success,But we'll do more, Sempronius,—We'll deserve it.

'Tis not in mortals to command success,

But we'll do more, Sempronius,—

We'll deserve it.

—Addison.

There are two ways of rising in the world: either by one's own industry or profiting by the foolishness of others.—La Bruyère.

Success is counted sweetestBy those who ne'er succeed.—Emily Dickinson.

Success is counted sweetestBy those who ne'er succeed.

Success is counted sweetest

By those who ne'er succeed.

—Emily Dickinson.

See alsoWives.

"You'll be late for supper, sonny," said the merchant, in passing a small boy who was carrying a package.

"No, I won't," was the reply. "I've dot de meat."—Mabel Long.

"How does it happen that you are five minutes late at school this morning?" the teacher asked severely.

"Please, ma'am," said Ethel, "I must have overwashed myself."

Why not have an illuminated sign on the statue of Liberty saying, "America expects every man to pay his duty?"—Kent Packard.

"It isn't wise for a painter to be too frank in his criticisms," said Robert Henri at a luncheon. "I know a very outspoken painter whose little daughter called at a friend's house and said:

'Show me your new parlor rug, won't you, please?'"

So, with great pride, the hostess led the little girl into the drawing-room, and raised all the blinds, so that the light might stream in abundantly upon the gorgeous colors of an expensive Kirmanshah.

The little girl stared down at the rug in silence. Then, as she turned away, she said in a rather disappointed voice:

"'It doesn't makemesick!'"

A rural school has a pretty girl as its teacher, but she was much troubled because many of her pupils were late every morning. At last she made the announcement that she would kiss the first pupil to arrive at the schoolhouse the next morning. At sunrise the largest three boys of her class were sitting on the doorstep of the schoolhouse, and by six o'clock every boy in the school and four of the directors were waiting for her to arrive.

"Why did you break your engagement with that school teacher?"

"If I failed to show up at her house every evening, she expected me to bring a written excuse signed by my mother."

Among the youngsters belonging to a colege settlement in a New England city was one little girl who returned to her humble home with glowing accounts of the new teacher.

"She's a perfect lady," exclaimed the enthusiastic youngster.

The child's mother gave her a doubtful look. "How doyouknow?" she said. "You've only known her two days."

"It's easy enough tellin'," continued the child. "I know she's a perfect lady, because she makes you feel polite all the time."

MOTHER—"The teacher complains you have not had a correct lesson for a month; why is it?"

SON—"She always kisses me when I get them right."

There was a meeting of the new teachers and the old. It was a sort of love feast, reception or whatever you call it. Anyhow all the teachers got together and pretended they didn't have a care in the world. After the eats were et the symposiarch proposed a toast:

"Long Live Our Teachers!"

It was drunk enthusiastically. One of the new teachers was called on to respond. He modestly accepted. His answer was:

"What On?"

TEACHER—"Now, Willie, where did you get that chewing gum? I want the truth."

WILLIE—"You don't want the truth, teacher, an' I'd ruther not tell a lie."

TEACHER—"How dare you say I don't want the truth! Tell me at once where you got that chewing-gum."

WILLIE—"Under your desk."

Grave is the Master's look; his forehead wearsThick rows of wrinkles, prints of worrying cares:Uneasy lie the heads of all that rule,His worst of all whose kingdom is a school.—0.W. Holmes.

Grave is the Master's look; his forehead wearsThick rows of wrinkles, prints of worrying cares:Uneasy lie the heads of all that rule,His worst of all whose kingdom is a school.

Grave is the Master's look; his forehead wears

Thick rows of wrinkles, prints of worrying cares:

Uneasy lie the heads of all that rule,

His worst of all whose kingdom is a school.

—0.W. Holmes.

Two Irishmen who had just landed were eating their dinner in a hotel, when Pat spied a bottle of horseradish. Not knowing what it was he partook of a big mouthful, which brought tears to his eyes.

Mike, seeing Pat crying, exclaimed: "Phat be ye cryin' fer?"

Pat, wishing to have Mike fooled also, exclaimed: "I'm crying fer me poor ould mother, who's dead way over in Ireland."

By and by Mike took some of the radish, whereupon tears filledhiseyes. Pat, seeing them, asked his friend what he was crying for.

Mike replied: "Because ye didn't die at the same time yer poor ould mother did."

There was an old man of Tarentum,Who gnashed his false teeth till he bent 'em:And when asked for the costOf what he had lost,Said, "I really can't tell for I rent 'em!"—Gilbert K. Chesterton.

There was an old man of Tarentum,Who gnashed his false teeth till he bent 'em:And when asked for the costOf what he had lost,Said, "I really can't tell for I rent 'em!"

There was an old man of Tarentum,

Who gnashed his false teeth till he bent 'em:

And when asked for the cost

Of what he had lost,

Said, "I really can't tell for I rent 'em!"

—Gilbert K. Chesterton.

Pat came to the office with his jaw very much swollen from a tooth he desired to have pulled. But when the suffering son of Erin got into the dentist's chair and saw the gleaming pair of forceps approaching his face, he positively refused to open his mouth.

The dentist quietly told his office boy to prick his patient with a pin, and when Pat opened his mouth to yell the dentist seized the tooth, and out it came.

"It didn't hurt as much as you expected it would, did it?" the dentist asked smiling.

"Well, no," replied Pat hesitatingly, as if doubting the truthfulness of his admission. "But," he added, placing his hand on the spot where the boy jabbed him with the pin, "begorra, little did I think the roots would reach down like that."

An Irishman with one side of his face badly swollen stepped into Dr. Wicten's office and inquired if the dentist was in. "I am the dentist," said the doctor.

"Well, then, I want ye to see what's the matter wid me tooth."

The doctor examined the offending molar, and explained: "The nerve is dead; that's what's the matter."

"Thin, be the powers," the Irishman exclaimed, "the other teeth must be houldin' a wake over it!"

For there was never yet philosopherThat could endure the toothache patiently.—Shakespeare.

For there was never yet philosopherThat could endure the toothache patiently.

For there was never yet philosopher

That could endure the toothache patiently.

—Shakespeare.

Two girls were talking over the wire. Both were discussing what they should wear to the Christmas party. In the midst of this important conversation a masculine voice interrupted, asking humbly for a number. One of the girls became indignant and scornfully asked:

"What line do you think you are on, anyhow?"

"Well," said the man, "I am not sure, but, judging from what I have heard, I should say I was on a clothesline."

When Grover Cleveland's little girl was quite young her father once telephoned to the White House from Chicago and asked Mrs. Cleveland to bring the child to the 'phone. Lifting the little one up to the instrument, Mrs. Cleveland watched her expression change from bewilderment to wonder and then to fear. It was surely her father's voice—yet she looked at the telephone incredulously. After examining the tiny opening in the receiver the little girl burst into tears. "Oh, Mamma!" she sobbed. "How can we ever get Papa out of that little hole?"

New York Elks are having a lot of fun with a member of their lodge, a Fifteenth Street jeweler. The other day his wife was in the jewelry store when the 'phone rang. She answered it.

"I want to speak to Mr. H——," said a woman's voice.

"Who is this?' demanded the jeweler's wife.

"Elizabeth."

"Well, Elizabeth, this is his wife. Now, madam, what do you want?"

"I want to talk to Mr. H——."

"You'll talk to me."

"Please let me speak to Mr. H——."

The jeweler's wife grew angry. "Look here, young lady," she said, "who are you that calls my husband and insists on talking to him?"

"I'm the telephone operator at Elizabeth, N.J.," came the reply.

And now the Elks take turns calling the jeweler up and telling him it's Elizabeth.

OPERATOR—"Number, please."

SUBSCRIBER—"I vas talking mit my husband und now I don't hear him any more. You must of pushed him off de vire."

A German woman called up Central and instructed her as follows:

"Ist dis de mittle? Veil dis is Lena. Hang my hustband on dis line. I vant to speak mit him."

In China when the subscriber rings up exchange the operator may be expected to ask:

"What number does the honorable son of the moon and stars desire?"

"Hohi, two-three."

Silence. Then the exchange resumes.

"Will the honorable person graciously forgive the inadequacy of the insignificant service and permit this humbled slave of the wire to inform him that the never-to-be-sufficiently censured line is busy?"

Recipe for a telephone operator:

To fearful and wonderful rolling of "r's,"And a voice cold as thirty below,Add a dash of red pepper, some ginger and sassIf you leave out the "o" in "hello"!

To fearful and wonderful rolling of "r's,"

And a voice cold as thirty below,

Add a dash of red pepper, some ginger and sass

If you leave out the "o" in "hello"!

Hearing the crash of china Dinah's mistress arrived in time to see her favorite coffee-set in pieces. The sight was too much for her mercurial temper. "Dinah," she said, "I cannot stand it any longer. I want you to go. I want you to go soon, I want you to go right now."

"Lawzee," replied Dinah, "this surely am a co-instence. I was this very minute cogitatin' that same thought in my own mind—I want to go, I thank the good Lawd I kin go, and I pity your husband, ma'am, that he can't go."

A Boston deacon who was a zealous advocate for the cause of temperance employed a carpenter to make some alterations in his home. In repairing a corner near the fireplace, it was found necessary to remove the wainscot, when some things were brought to light which greatly astonished the workman. A brace of decanters, sundry bottles containing "something to take," a pitcher, and tumblers were cosily reposing in their snug quarters. The joiner ran to the proprietor with the intelligence.

"Well, I declare!" exclaimed the deacon. "That is curious, sure enough. It must be old Captain Bunce that left those things there when he occupied the premises thirty years since."

"Perhaps he did, returned the discoverer, but, Deacon, that ice in the pitcher must have been well frozen to remain solid."—Abbie C. Dixon.

Here's to a temperance supper,With water in glasses tall,And coffee and tea to end withAnd me not there at all.

Here's to a temperance supper,

With water in glasses tall,

And coffee and tea to end with

And me not there at all.

The best prohibition story of the season comes from Kansas where, it is said, a local candidate stored a lot of printed prohibition literature in his barn, but accidentally left the door open and a herd of milch cows came in and ate all the pamphlets. As a result every cow in the herd went dry.—Adrian Times.

A Michigan citizen recently received a letter from a Kentucky whisky house, requesting him to send them the names of a dozen or more persons who would like to get some fine whisky shipped to them at a very low price. The letter wound up by saying:

"We will give you a commission on all the orders sent in by parties whose names you send us."

The Michigan man belonged to a practical joke class, and filled in the names of some of his prohibition friends on the blank spaces left for that purpose.

He had forgotten all about his supposed practical joke when Monday he received another letter from the same house. He supposed it was a request for some more names, and was just about to throw the communication in the waste basket when it occurred to him to send the name of another old friend to the whisky house. He accordingly tore open the envelope, and came near collapsing when he found a check for $4.80, representing his commission on the sale of whisky to the parties whose names he had sent in about three weeks before.

Abstinence is as easy to me as temperance would be difficult.—Samuel Johnson.

The bigness of Texas is evident from a cursory examination of the map. But its effect upon the people of that state is not generally known. It is about six hundred miles from Brownsville, at the bottom of the map, to Dallas, which is several hundreds of miles from the top of the map. Hence the following conversation in Brownsville recently between two of the old-time residents:

"Where have you been lately, Bob? I ain't seen much of you."

"Been on a trip north."

"Where'd you go?"

"Went to Dallas."

"Have a good time?"

"Naw; I never did like them damn Yankees, anyway."

In the Tennessee mountains a mountaineer preacher, who had declared colleges "the works of the devil," was preaching without previous meditation an inspirational sermon from the text, "The voice of the turtle shall be heard in the land." Not noting that the margin read "turtle-dove," he proceeded in this manner:

"This text, my hearers, strikes me as one of the most peculiar texts in the whole book, because we all know that a turtle ain't got no voice. But by the inward enlightenment I begin to see the meaning and will expose it to you. Down in the hollers by the streams and ponds you have gone in the springtime, my brethren, and observed the little turtles, a-sleeping on the logs. But at the sound of the approach of a human being, they wentkerflop-kerplunk, down into the water. This I say, then, is the meaning of the prophet: he, speakinging figgeratively, referred to thekerflopof the turtle as thevoiceof the turtle, and hence we see that in those early times the prophet, looking down at the ages to come, clearly taught and prophesied the doctrine I have always preached to this congregation—that immersion is the only form of baptism."

John D. Rockefeller, Jr., once asked a clergyman to give him an appropriate Bible verse on which to base an address which he was to make at the latter's church.

"I was thinking," said young Rockefeller, "that I would take the verse from the Twenty-third Psalm: 'The Lord is my shepherd.' Would that seem appropriate?"

"Quite," said the clergyman; "but do you really want an appropriate verse?"

"I certainly do," was the reply.

"Well, then," said the clergyman, with a twinkle in his eye, "I would select the verse in the same Psalm: 'Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.'"

"Say, old man," chattered the press-agent, who had cornered a producer of motion-picture plays, "I've got a grand idea for a film-drama. Listen to the impromptu scenario: Scene one, exterior of a Broadway theater, with the ticket-speculators getting the coin in handfuls, and—"

"You're out!" interrupted the producer. "Why, don't you know that the law don't permit us to show an actual robbery on the screen?"—P.H. Carey.

"Why don't women have the same sense of humor that men possess?" asked Mr. Torkins.

"Perhaps," answered his wife gently, "it's because we don't attend the same theaters."

It appears that at the rehearsal of a play, a wonderful climax had been reached, which was to be heightened by the effective use of the usual thunder and lightning. The stage-carpenter was given the order. The words were spoken, and instantly a noise which resembled a succession of pistol-shots was heard off the wings.

"What on earth are you doing, man?" shouted the manager, rushing behind the scenes. "Do you call that thunder? It's not a bit like it."

"Awfully sorry, sir," responded the carpenter; "but the fact is, sir, I couldn't hear you because of the storm. That was real thunder, sir!"

Everybody has his own theater, in which he is manager, actor, prompter, playwright, sceneshifter, boxkeeper, doorkeeper, all in one, and audience into the bargain.—J.C. and A.W. Hare.

GEORGIA LAWYER (to colored prisoner)—"Well, Ras, so you want me to defend you. Have you any money?"

RASTUS—"No; but I'se got a mule, and a few chickens, and a hog or two."

LAWYER—"Those will do very nicely. Now, let's see; what do they accuse you of stealing?"

RASTUS—"Oh, a mule, and a few chickens, and a hog or two."

At a dinner given by the prime minister of a little kingdom on the Balkan Peninsula, a distinguished diplomat complained to his host that the minister of justice, who had been sitting on his left, had stolen his watch.

"Ah, he shouldn't have done that," said the prime minister, in tones of annoyance. "I will get it back for you."

Sure enough, toward the end of the evening the watch was returned to its owner.

"And what did he say?" asked the diplomat.

"Sh-h," cautioned the host, glancing anxiously about him. "He doesn't know that I have got it back."

Senator "Bob" Taylor, of Tennessee, tells a story of how, when he was "Fiddling Bob," governor of that state, an old negress came to him and said:

"Massa Gov'na, we's mighty po' this winter, and Ah wish you would pardon mah old man. He is a fiddler same as you is, and he's in the pen'tentry."

"What was he put in for?" asked the governor.

"Stead of workin' fo' it that good-fo'-nothin' nigger done stole some bacon."

"If he is good for nothing what do you want him back for?"

"Well, yo' see, we's all out of bacon ag'in," said the old negress innocently.

"Did ye see as Jim got ten years' penal for stealing that 'oss?"

"Serve 'im right, too. Why didn't 'e buy the 'oss and not pay for 'im like any other gentleman?"

Some time ago a crowd of Bowery sports went over to Philadelphia to see a prize fight. One "wise guy," who, among other things, is something of a pickpocket, was so sure of the result that he was willing to bet on it.

"The Kid's goin' t' win. It's a pipe," he told a friend.

The friend expressed doubts.

"Sure he'll win," the pickpocket persisted. "I'll bet you a gold watch he wins."

Still the friend doubted.

"Why," exclaimed the pickpocket, "I'm willin' to bet you a good gold watch he wins! Y' know what I'll do? Come through the train with me now, an' y' can pick out any old watch y' like."

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