Whistling to Hades
Two girls from the city were spending their vacation in a small town in the middle west, and at the house where they were stopping was a devout old man who believed that the blue Sunday laws should go into effect full blast. It so happened that the girls were in the parlor one Sunday morning, playing the popular airs, when the devout sir entered and said: “Do you know this is Sunday?”
“Sure, what’s the big idea?”
“Do you know the ten commandments?”
“Well, if you whistle the first two or three bars I might get them.”
* * *
It isn’t the things we’ve won and possessed that fill the coffers of life to overflowing. It’s the things we’ve lost, the things that make for sweet memories. That’s the sum and substance of life that endures—memories and their lessons.
* * *
This is March, the month when the wind is tempered either to the lion or to the shorn lamb, and soon the grass will be green and the wind will be tempered for the silk-clad calf. Oh, boys, I’ll say we can anticipate!
* * *
When the ball bearings of the new association of nations get rolling smoothly, we understand that Jerusalem will be given to the Jews, Ireland to the Irish, Iceland to the icemen and New York City to the United States.
* * *