"Betty, why do you sit up at this hour of the night darning your stockings?" said mother, sharply; "don't you know it's 12 o'clock?"
"Oh, yes," laughed Betty, "but it's never too late to mend!"
"Now, why," remarked the little dog, in speaking to the tree,
"Would you say that the heart of you is like the tail of me?"
The tree gave the conundrum up. The pup, with wisdom dark,
Explained the matter saying, "It is farthest from the bark."
Butcher—I need a boy about your size, and will give you $1 a week.
Applicant—Will I have a chance to rise?
Butcher—Yes; I want you to be here at four o'clock in the morning.
A prominent man called to condone with a lady on the death of her husband, and concluded by saying, "Did he leave you much?"