My wife shoved her head out of the window, and says:
"Is that you, Billy, dear?"
My name's not Billy. I got divorced.
Talking of graveyards, I took a trip to Philly last week.
Say, I never had such fun since I sold my automobile.
The circus began at Hoboken and continued all the way down.
When I got to the station I noticed an Irishman sitting out of harm's way, holding his jaw.
"What's the matter, old man?" says I; "toothache?"
"Yes, bedad," says he, "but I'm going to get rid of it."