"You're a hell of a feller when you're home, ain't ye?"
As I was going to the theater in Indianapolis I passed two ladies who were busily discussing a third.
"You know she can't hear very well," said one.
"No, I see she can't," said the other.
"Bobbie" Richardson was not feeling very well, and for the past four nights had been taking a couple of pills each night. The fifth night Mrs. Bobbie happened to glance over toward him just as he was about to take his two pills.
"Bobbie," she said with a gasp, "what are you doing?"
"I am taking a couple of my pills," replied Bobbie.
"My Goodness," said Mrs. Bobbie, "those are not pills; that is a bottle I gave Alice to keep her beads in."