Master: Without what?
Maid: Without food or raiment.
Master: Give her food and bring her hither.
The cost of high living has evidently not struck Philadelphia yet; for in the window of a little store on North Ninth Street there is a sign—
"A glass bowl—a goldfish—a tadpole and one seaweed—all for 8 cents."
There must have been a crook around New York this winter, for hanging up over the workmen's lockers in the garage where I keep my car is a sign saying—
"Keep Out. We Mourn Our Loss."