"And neither do you let your friends
Forget it!" Jane replied.
—Childe Harold.
A negro bricklayer in Macon, Georgia, was lying down during the noon hour, sleeping in the hot sun. The clock struck one, the time to pick up his hod again. He rose, stretched, and grumbled: "I wish I wuz daid. 'Tain' nothin' but wuk, wuk from mawnin' tell night."
Another negro, a story above, heard the complaint and dropped a brick on the grumbler's head.
Dazed he looked up and said:
"De Lawd can' stan' no jokes. He jes' takes ev'ything in yearnist."
The late H.C. Bunner, when editor of Puck, once received a letter accompanying a number of would-be jokes in which the writer asked: "What will you give me for these?"
"Ten yards start," was Bunner's generous offer, written beneath the query.