“I don’t know,” said the young man.
“Then,” said the widow, “you’d better marry the cow.”
“How did that fight between the bridge tenders end?”
“It was fought to a draw—and they both fell in!”
My girl gave me a tintype picture of herself. I put it in my pocket and went a few steps further, and fell. When I got up, she says, “Are you hurt?” I said, “Yes.” She said, “Where?” I said, “Not on your tintype.”
“Waitress, will that roll be long?”
“No, sir; it will be round in a minute.”