A motor car was held up in a busy street by a wagon drawn by two horses. The driver seemed in no hurry to get out of the way, and at length one of the occupants of the motor car exclaimed sarcastically:
"Here, I say, my man! What are those things you are driving? What are they for, I should like to know?"
"These 'ere, guv'nor?" answered the carter, flicking the horses with his whip. "Oh, these is wot is commonly called 'orses, an' they're sometimes used fer to take motorists to the 'orspital!"
"Do you think the motor will entirely supersede the horse?"
"I hope not," replied Farmer Corntossel. "There must be some market fur hay. I depend on what I make on hay to buy gasoline."
HOSPITALITY
Uncle Tobey was an hospitable soul. He wanted no guest in his house to be stinted. "Have some, have some," he invited cordially at the supper-table, sending around the platter for the third time; "we're going to give it to the pigs anyway."—Judge.