Part 7 (1/2)

”My friend,” said the long-coated old man, solemnly, ”have you made preparation for the day of judgment?”

”Sir,” replied the young man, ”that's how I make my living.”

”Young man!”

”I'm employed in the sheriffs office.”

”George, you look exhausted,” she said to him as he was putting on his hat and coat.

”Yes,” he answered, glancing towards his daughter at the piano.

”I'm played out.”

Of the heroine in one of the latest sensational novels it is said: ”Her eyes chained him to the spit.” She must have been links-eyed.

”Do I bore you?” asked the mosquito, politely, as he sunk a half-inch shaft into the man's leg.

”Not at all,” replied the man, squas.h.i.+ng him with a book. ”How do I strike you?”

”How did that fight between the bridge tenders end?”

”It was fought to a draw--and they both fell in!”

What kind of essence does a young man like when he pops the question? Acquiescence.

MAs.h.i.+NGTON--What's the matter with your clock? It's stopped.

TAILOR--I never wind it up. I use it as a motto.

”What do you mean?”