A moment later the proud husband was watching his wife as with the ease born of long practise she fought her way through the crowd and reached the counter. After a little while she returned waving triumphantly a folded paper, exclaiming: "Wasn't I lucky? I got the last one they had." "What is it?" "Why, don't you know? It's a divorce!" The young man grew pale. "I thought," he said, "you loved me." "Why, of course I love you, but I simply couldn't resist such a bargain as that.” She pointed to a sign. Charlie looked at it and read: THIS DAY ONLY! OUR REGULAR DIVORCES MARKED DOWN FROM $2.75 TO $1.69 NOT IN IT ANONYMOUS They built a church at his very door "He wasn't in it." They brought him a scheme for relieving the poor- Let them work for themselves, as he had done, If they hadn't wasted each golden minute- So he passed the poor with haughty tread- When men in the halls of virtue met A carriage crept down the street one day- The funeral trappings made a display- St. Peter received him with book and bell; A TWILIGHT IDYL BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE One summer evening, Mr. Ellis Henderson, a popular young man, went out walking with two of the sweetest girls in town. Mr. Henderson wore a little straw hat with a navy blue band, a cutaway coat, a pair of white trousers, a white vest, a buttonhole bouquet, and fifteen cents. The evening was very hot, and as they walked, they talked about the baseball match, the weather, and sunstrokes. By and by one of the young ladies gave a delicate little shriek. "00-00! What a funny sign!" "Ha-yes," said Mr. Henderson, in troubled tones, looking gently but resolutely at the wrong side of the street. "How funny it is spelled; see, Ethel." "Why," said Ethel, "it is spelled correctly. Isn't it, Mr. Henderson ?" "Hy-why-aw-why, yes, to be sure," said Mr. Henderson, staring at a window full of house-plants. "Why, Mr. Henderson," said Elfrida, "how can you say so? Just see, 'i-c-e, ice, c-r double e―m, cream'; that's not the way to spell cream.' And Mr. Henderson, who was praying harder than he ever prayed before that an earthquake might come along and swallow up either himself or all the ice-cream parlors in the United States, looked up at the chimney of the house and said: "That? Oh, yes, yes; of course, why certainly. How very much cooler it has grown within the past few minutes. That cool wave from Manitoba is nearing us once more." He took out his handkerchief and swabbed a face that would scorch an iceberg brown in ten minutes. "Is it true, Mr. Henderson," asked Ethel, "that soda fountains sometimes explode ?" "Oh, frequently," said he, and they scatter death and destruction everywhere. In some of our Eastern cities they have been abolished by law,-and they ought to do the same thing here! Why, in New York, all the soda fountains have been removed far outside the city limits and are now located side by side with powder houses." "I am not afraid of them," said Ethel, "and I don't believe they are a bit dangerous." "Nor I," echoed Elfrida, "I would not be afraid to walk up to one and stand by it all day. Why are you so afraid of them, Mr. Henderson?" "Because once I had a fair, sweet young sister blown to pieces by one of those terrible engines of destruction while she was drinking at it, and I can not look at one without growing faint." "How do they make soda water, Mr. Henderson ?" He was about to reply that it was composed chiefly of dirt and poison, when Ethel read aloud four ice-cream signs, and said, "How comfortable and happy all those people look in there." Then young Mr. Henderson, who had been clawing at his hair, and tearing off his necktie and collar, and pawing the air, shouted in tones of wild frenzy: "Oh, yes, yes, yes! Come in; come in and gorge yourselves. Everybody come in and eat up a whole week's salary in fifteen minutes. Set 'em up! Strawberry, chocolate, vanilla, pineapple, raspberry, lemon, peach, apricot, tutti frutti, nesselrode pudding, water-ice, cake and sherbet. Set 'em up! The treat's on me. Oh, yes, I can stand it. Ha, ha! I'm Astorbilt in disguise. Oh, yes; it doesn't cost anything to take an evening walk! Put out your frozen pudding! Ha, ha, ha!" They carried him home to his boarding house, and put him to bed, and sent for his physician. He is not yet out of danger, but will recover. The exact trouble is a mystery to the doctor, but he thinks it must be hydrosodia, as the sight of a piece of ice throws the patient into the wildest and most furious paroxysms. LAVERY'S HENS ANONYMOUS Michael Lavery, a thrifty Irishman, lived in a small cottage, on Devarsey Street, South Side, Chicago. It had no yard in front, and the rear was ditto. It had a cellar, however, and it occurred to Lavery that he might make something out of it by using it as a hen-house; but one cold night, during the following winter, the water-pipes burst, flooded the cellar, and drowned the chickens. Friends of Lavery told him the city would make good his loss if he made proper application. So Mr. Lavery went down to the city hall, and entering the room of the clerk, said: "Good marnin'. Me name is Michael Lavery, and I live in Devarsey Street, on the South Side, and I kape chickens in me cellar, and the water came in and drowned thim; what'll I do?" "What's that?" "Me name is Michael Lavery, and I live in Devarsey Street, on the South Side, and I kape chickens in me cellar, and the water came in and drowned thim; what'll I do?" "What's that?" "Me name is Michael Lavery, and I live in Devarsey Street, on the South Side, and I kape chickens in me cellar, and the water came in and drowned thim; what'll I do?" "The water came in and drowned your chickens; what will you do?" "Yis, sir." "Well, you step into the next room and see the mayor. You will find him at his desk; tell him what you want." "All right, sir, I will." (Exit Lavery to next room.) "Good marnin'. Me name is Michael Lavery, and I live in Devarsey Street, on the South Side, and I kape chickens in me cellar, and the water came in and drowned thim; what'll I do?" (Gruffly.) "What, sir?" "Me name is Michael Lavery, and I live in Devarsey Street, on the South Side, and I kape chickens in me cellar, and the water came in and drowned thim; what'll I do?" "What's that?" (Very loud.) "Me name is Michael Lavery, and I live in Devarsey Street, on the South Side, and I kape chickens in me cellar, and the water came and drowned thim; what'll I do?" "I don't understand one word you say, sir!" (Very softly and sarcastically, and working up into loud voice.) "Me name is Michael Lavery, and I live in Devarsey Street, on the South Side, and I kape chickens in me cellar, and the water came in and drowned thim; what'll I do?" "The water came in and drowned your chickens; what will you do?" "Yis, sir." "Well I can do nothing for you, so good-morning, sir!" (Clerk whispers to Lavery as he is passing out.) "Well, Mr. Lavery, what did he say to you?" "Kape ducks!" LISP ANONYMOUS Thome folks thay I listhp, Juth listhen while I call the cat: |