“We’ve had him nearly two weeks now, and he hasn’t said a word to anybody.”
—The letter S, we must confess.
Was never made in vain,
For, take it from your “stars and stripes,”
But tar and tripe remain.
—“Is that really a glass eye?” said Maude to the optician.
“Yes, miss.”
“How strange! it is not transparent. How does the wearer see through it?”
—A little girl, aged nine, called her father to her bedside the other evening.
“Papa,” said the little diplomat, “I want to ask your advice.”