The husband promised. The next morning his wife received a postal-card: “Dear wife, I reached Dover all right. Yours aff.”
Though somewhat disappointed she thought her husband must have been pressed for time. Two days later, however, another card arrived, with the startling announcement: “Here I am in Paris. Yours ever.” And still later: “I am indeed in Paris. Yours.”
Then the wife decided to have a little fun and seized her pen and wrote: “Dear husband, the children and I are at Brixton. Yours.”
A few days later she wrote again: “We are still in Brixton.”
In her last communication she grew more enthusiastic: “Dear husband, here we are in Brixton. I repeat it, sir, we are in Brixton. P.S.—We are, indeed.”
In due time her husband reached home, fearing that his poor wife had temporarily lost her senses, and hastened to ask the meaning of her strange messages. With a winning smile she handed him his own three postal-cards.
Those Hits at “The Journal”
“Life” has the latest and best of those jokes aimed at this magazine, which seem so popular.
This time it is of a mighty hunter who has just killed, by a single shot, a tiger of incredible immensity.
After the great feat a friend standing by says to the man of brawn: