Little Elsie—Brother Johnny can’t come to school; he has diphtheria.
Teacher—Indeed! Where did he get it?
Little Elsie—In the neck.
The passionate rhythms of “The Merry Widow” waltz floated through the office, and the boss looked up from his desk impatiently.
Frederic, he said, I wish you wouldn’t whistle at your work.
I ain’t workin’, sir, the office boy replied calmly. I’m only just whistlin’.
After a teacher had recited “The Landing of the Pilgrims,” she requested each pupil to try to draw from his or her imagination, a picture of Plymouth Rock.
Most of them went to work at once, but one little fellow hesitated, and at length raised his hand.