Part 22 (1/2)

When the penniless lordling to get a rich wife Of his own nationality fails, He crosses the ocean with heart light and gay And robs the United States males.

HUSBAND--My dear, how would you like a book for a present?

WIFE--Very much.

”Well, what sort of a book would you like--a book of poems, for instance?”

”No; a bank-book.”

”That sounds like the charity bawl,” said the nurse, as the babies in the orphan asylum began to yell.

He went on a lark, So his wife did remark, And some angry words, too, did she mutter.

On a lark he went out, Of that fact there's no doubt, But he came in, alas! on a shutter.

CONDON--Have you been cured of that last attack of malaria?

DENBY--Oh, yes, Doctress Anna Curem knocked it silly. But her treatment left me with a worse disease than malaria ever was.

”You don't say so!”

”Yes, sir; I've got an incurable case of heart disease now.”

For years she'd heard her husband sadly say: ”Can't we have pies like mother used to bake?”

At last she cried: ”Of course we can, you Jay, When you make dough that papa used to make.”

YANKEE--”I say, Britisher, can you spell horse?”

ENGLISHMAN--”'Orse? Why, certainly. It honly takes a haitch and a ho and a har and a hess and a he to spell 'orse.”