What’s that I smell—buckwheats?
And What’s-his-name’s pig sausage?
It is? Aha!
Gee, what a peach of a morning!
AN EVENING WITH SHAKESPEARE.
Sir: Overheard at the Studebaker: “What’s put him off his nut?” Lady, answering: “He ain’t really bugs—it’s a stall. The old guy [Polonius] thinks he’s got something on him.” P. S. D.
YOURS, ETC.
Sir: The height of efficiency is attained by Mervin L. Lane, Insurance Service, New York, who prints on his letterhead, “Unnecessary terms of politeness as well as assurances of self-evident esteem are omitted from our letters.” E. A. D.
“It costs 30,000 Lenin rubles a day for food alone,” says Prof. Zeidler of Viborg, referring to so-called life in Russia. Apparently, then, Lenin has not yet succeeded in making money utterly worthless.