“Willie,” said the teacher, “take that gum out of your mouth this instant, and put in your feet.”
William was considered the brightest boy in his grade; upon hearing a lesson recited in class once or twice he knew it quite well. Thus, while the other fellows were compelled to study hard he scarcely found it necessary to open a book. At the expiration of the term one of the questions in the written geography was, “What is the equator?”
William, always to be depended upon, wrote without delay:
“The equator is a menagerie lion running around the center of the earth.”
He was an earnest minister, and one Sunday, in the course of a sermon on the significance of little things, he said:
“The hand which made the mighty heavens made a grain of sand; which made the lofty mountains made a drop of water; which made you made the grass of the field; which made me made a daisy!”
A young Scotchman, bashful but desperately in love, finding no notice was taken of his visits to the house of his sweetheart, summoned up sufficient courage to address the fair one thus: