But I wasn’t the only one in misery, for there was a lady that came in shortly after I, and her jaw was swollen out like that. [Measure.] The doctor looked in her mouth and said: “My dear madam, you have evidently made a mistake—this is a dental office, not a quarry. You’ll have to take that to some place where they blast rock.”
I went into a cigar-store the other day, and walking up to the counter I said to the proprietor: “Let me have a Childs cigar.” “Pardon me, sir,” he said; “but what did you say you wanted?” “A Childs cigar, if you please,” I replied. “A child’s cigar? I am very sorry,” he said; “but we are not allowed to sell a child a cigar—but if a cinnamon cigarette will do you any good I can sell you one of those.”
“Let me have a Childs cigar”
I had a friend once that suffered terribly from a half-dozen different complaints. He woke up in the middle of the night once, and he didn’t know what ached him the most—the cold that had settled on his chest, his liver that was out of order, or the corn that he had on his little toe.
Anyway he got up, dressed himself and woke the druggist up to fix him some medicine that would give him some relief. The druggist fixed him up a powerful liniment, some pills and a corn-plaster, saying: “Rub your chest with the liniment for your cold, swallow the pills for your liver and use the corn-plaster for your toe.”
My friend kept repeating this to himself all the way back home, but when he got there he was all puzzled up. He stuck the corn-plaster on his chest, swallowed the liniment and tied the pills on his corn.