Our Local Color
Our good friend Gemmell, of the Minnesota and International Railroad, wasn’t the railroad president who thought a gondola was a bird. In fact, the blame is laid to Mr. Casey for suggesting that his company purchase one male and one female gondola, so as to stock the city park of Brainerd, Minn., with a flock or herd or covey of little gondolas.
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Our friend Liebst reports that since his poem, the Hoboes Convention, appeared in the Whiz Bang, he has received several letters from railroad managers requesting permission to name a few box cars after him. Oh, Fame, where is thy sting?
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Ham Tomlin says he thinks he is growing old. He used to be able to kiss his wife 20 times a day but now it take him all day to get up nerve enough to kiss her once.
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Don’t get jealous, boys, but I’ve just finished drinking some stuff that was strong enough to make a rabbit slap a bulldog in the face.
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It’s a lean Jane that has no curves.