Bill Jones is a country storekeeper down in Louisiana, and last spring he went to New Orleans to purchase a stock of goods. The goods were shipped immediately and reached home before he did. When the boxes of goods were delivered at his store by the drayman his wife happened to look at the largest; she uttered a loud cry and called for a hammer. A neighbor, hearing the screams, rushed to her assistance and asked what was the matter. The wife, pale and faint, pointed to an inscription on the box which read as follows:
“Bill inside.”
Customer—“Are these five or six wedding rings all you have in stock? Why, you’ve got a whole trayful of engagement rings.”
Jeweler—“Yes, sir, and it will take that whole trayful of engagement rings to work off those five or six wedding rings.”
They were newly married and on a honeymoon trip. They put up at a skyscraper hotel. The bridegroom felt indisposed, and the bride said she would slip out and do a little shopping.
In due time she returned and tripped blithely up to her room, a little awed by the number of doors that looked all alike. But she was sure of her own and tapped gently on the panel.
“I’m back, honey; let me in,” she whispered.
No answer.