POST—"Jokes."
MRS. LESSNER—"Do you think it's true that poor Lydia hasn't smiled since her marriage?"
MRS. SHORTWELL—"I think it's very likely. You know her husband is a professional humorist."
The good die young was never said of a joke.
Why are jokes preceded by the so-called title, which is virtually the conclusion, or what Twain termed the "nub"? The understanding of it implies the reading of the joke first, and yet it is hung at the very beginning in heavy type, demanding immediate attention. The reader learns rapidly, however, and will not be fooled. Nine times out of ten he will skip the title, complete the article, and then, from habit, unconsciously glance back for the grin in the title, Where the Point Lies.
It was a portly but very polite person who sat next to Jones in a railway station. "Pardon me," said he to Jones, "but what would you say if I sat on your hat?" "Suppose you sit on it and then ask me," sarcastically suggested Jones. "I did," said the portly person, imperturbably.—Judge.