"Ah," said the youthful mariner, a great light dawning on him. "Twelve pounds."
* * *
The two flappers at the Strand seemed barely in their 'teens, yet their conversation stamped them as seasoned film fans. They were discussing titles of pictures in general, and the tiny blonde expressed regret that the recent German importations had had their titles changed for American consumption. "If they had only called that picture 'Du Barry' instead of 'Passion,' think what a hit it would have made!"
Her bobbed-hair companion tossed her head and scoffed: "Don't you believe it. There's millions of folks never heard of Du Barry, but every one knows about passion."
* * *
"We will take as our text this morning," announced the absent-minded clergyman, consulting his memorandum, "the sixth and seventh verses of the thirty-first chapter of Proverbs." Never suspecting that his vivacious son and heir had found the memorandum in his study on the previous night, and, knowing that his papa had composed a sermon celebrating the increased severity of dry law enforcement, had diabolically changed the chapter and verse numerals to indicate a very different text, the absent-minded clergyman turned to the place and read aloud these words of Solomon: "Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, and wine unto those that be of heavy hearts. Let him drink and forget his past poverty, and remember his misery no more."
* * *
"You don't mean to say it cost you $7000 to have your family tree looked up?"
"No; $2000 to have it looked up and $5000 to have it hushed up."