Oh, tittered the merry milliner, there are no fits connected with spring hats. They generally develop in the men when the bill comes home.
A few days ago, says the “Newark Star,” Alderman Elmer A. Day was glancing over the register at one of the local hotels to see if a friend of his was registered there. Near him stood a man who was holding onto the desk for dear life in a semi-successful attempt to maintain his balance.
I s’pose you think I’m drunk? said the stranger, looking belligerently at Day.
No; not in the least, replied the Alderman, anxious to avoid the possibility of a row.
Well, you’d know I was if I let go this desk, answered the man.
I visited Miss Marie Corelli when I was in Stratford, said a young woman. She lives in a quaint house of dull red brick. She is very pretty and very rich, and she likes Americans.
Miss Corelli was full of fun. She talked about woman’s over-regard for appearances. She said that she herself was too prone to think that, if appearances were all right, everything was right.
Once, in her childhood, Miss Corelli said she was yachting on the English coast.