—Mrs. Pennifeather: "Goodness gracious! I wonder what in the world has become of all my tarts?"
Mr. P.: "Where did you put them?"
Mrs. P.: "Right on the window-sill here."
Mr. P.: "That accounts for it. You have carelessly exposed them to the son."
—It is his exalted position that makes the weather cock vane.
—Father (severely): "My son, this is a disgraceful condition of affairs. This report says you are the last boy in a class of twenty-two."
Henry: "It might have been worse, father."
Father: "I can't see how."
Henry: "There might have been more boys in the class."
—Sunday School Superintendent: "Who led the children of Israel into Canaan? Will one of the smaller boys answer?"
No reply.
Superintendent (somewhat sternly): "Can no one tell? Little boy, on that seat next to the aisle, who led the children of Israel into Canaan?"
Little Boy (badly frightened): "It wasn't me. I—I jist moved yere last week f'm Missoury."
—The concave mirror is not exactly a humorist, but it makes some very amusing reflections.
—"Boy, I read in your eyes that you have told a lie."
"Papa, that is impossible. You cannot read without spectacles."
—Sauso: "Why did you yell 'Stop thief!' at the man who was running toward the railroad station?"
Rodd: "I saw that he was going to take a car."
—A chilly salutation— "Shake!"
—Weeks: "I'm afraid Brown is not very steady. I don't think he will stick to his business."
Wentman: "Oh, yes he will. You forget he is working in a glue factory."
—"Do you distrust fat men, captain?"
"Well, no," returned the old sea-dog, "not exactly; but I always give them a wide berth."