The occupants of a Pullman sleeper were diligently trying to get some rest, but could not. There was a very thirsty woman in one of the berths who kept the whole car awake by her perpetual song of—“Oh, I am so dry. I am so dry. My, but I am dry. Dear me, what shall I do? I am so dry.”
“Hello, Porter!” at last sang out a gentleman across the way, “For Heaven’s sake give that woman some ice water, and plenty of it. I want to get some sleep.”
The Porter brought a glass of water. He brought a second glass. She drank them both—and took up her song afresh—
“My, but I was dry. I was so dry. I never was so dry in all my life. Dear me, but I was dry.”
“Oh, Great Scott, woman,” sang out the man across the way, “dry up, and let me sleep!”
A TIMELY ANSWER
In the good old days of the rod of birch a Philadelphia school teacher was very partial to one of his boys, and very severe to another. One day they were both tardy. Rod in hand he called them both up on the floor. “James, my boy,” said he to the favorite regretfully, but kindly, “why were you late to-day?” “You see, sir,” replied James, “I was asleep, sir, and I dreamed I was going to California, and I was down on the wharf, and I thought the school-bell was the bell of the steamboat.” “That will do, my boy,” said the teacher, glad of an excuse to shield his favorite, “always tell the truth, my boy. And now, sir,” said he to the other sternly, “and where were you?” “You, see, sir,” said the other candidly, “I was down on the wharf waitin’ to see Jim off!”
THAT TERRIBLE INFANT
Annie had a beau. She also had a small brother of the proverbially troublesome age of five. One day at the dinner table they were teasing Annie about Mr. Lovejoy—that was the beau’s name—and Annie declared that she didn’t like him one bit, and said moreover that Mr. Lovejoy “had a soft spot in his head.” That called off the dogs, for a time at least, but her brother Bobbie took note.
The next evening Mr. Lovejoy called to see Annie. They were both in the parlor. He was sitting on the sofa, and she occupied a chair on the other side of the room. Bobbie strolled into the room, climbed up on the sofa and began a very diligent examination of Mr. Lovejoy’s head. He felt all over it, and looked puzzled. Mr. Lovejoy was puzzled likewise, and at length said, “Why, Bobbie, what are you examining my head for? Are you studying phrenology?” “No,” said the boy, “Sister Annie says you have a soft spot on your head somewhere, and I was just trying to find it!”