Traveler—I said this is a hot day!
Old Farmer (climbing the fence and approaching the buggy)—Beg pardon, I'm a little hard o' hearin'. What is it?
Traveler—I merely said that this is a hot day.
Old Farmer—Oh, go to thunder!
—Owl.
[JOURNAL OF SOLOMON SIDESPLITTER.]
"Martha, does thee love me?" asked a Quaker youth of one at whose shrine his heart's fondest feelings had been offered up. "Why, Seth," answered she, "we are commanded to love one another, are we not?" "Ah, Martha! but doest not thee regard me with that feeling that the world calls love?" "I hardly know what to tell thee, Seth; I have greatly feared that my heart was an erring one; I have tried to bestow my love on all; but I may have sometimes thought, perhaps, that thee was getting rather more than thy share."