The plowshare being done, the farmer handed the smith 50 cents.
“Hold on,” said the smith; “I charge $1.50 for that job now.”
“You scandalous rascal!” yelled the farmer. “What do you mean by treblin’ your price on me? What have you done it for?”
“I’ve done it,” said the blacksmith, “so’s I’ll be able to eat some of that high-priced pork of yours this winter.”
AN INTERIOR PROBLEM
“Those Germans are certainly efficient,” said father at the breakfast table.
“How so? How?” asked mother.
“Why,” said father, “I see they have put the whole question of the food supply into the hands of the Minister of the Interior.”