“I’m so glad you’ve come. We’re going to have a young married couple for dinner.”
“I’m glad too. They ought to be tender.”
“I pay as I go,” declared the pompous citizen.
“Not while I’m running these apartments,” declared the janitor. “You’ll pay as you move in.”
Among seven distinguished men who were to speak at the opening exercises of a new school was a professor well known for his lapses of memory. But his speech was clear that night, and as he seated himself his loving wife felt that he had fully earned the burst of applause that followed, and she clapped her little hands enthusiastically. Then her cheeks crimsoned.
“Did you see anything amusing about the close of my address, my dear?” asked the Professor as they started for home. “It seemed as if I heard sounds suggestive of merriment about me.”
“Well, dear,” said she, “of all the people who applauded your address, you clapped the loudest and longest.”