“I’ve found the lady, sir.”

“Good!  Where is she?”

“At my place.  I married her yesterday.”

“I would die for you,” said the rich suitor.

“How soon?” asked the practical girl.

HE—­“I’d like to meet Miss Bond.”

SHE—­“Why?”

“I hear she has thirty thousand a year and no incumbrance.”

“Is she looking for one?”—­Life.

MAUDE—­“I’ve just heard of a case where a man married a girl on his deathbed so she could have his millions when he was gone.  Could you love a girl like that?”

JACK—­“That’s just the kind of a girl I could love.  What’s her address?”

“Yes,” said the old man to his young visitor, “I am proud of my girls, and would like to see them comfortably married, and as I have made a little money they will not go penniless to their husbands.  There is Mary, twenty-five years old, and a really good girl.  I shall give her $1,000 when she marries.  Then comes Bet, who won’t see thirty-five again, and I shall give her $3,000, and the man who takes Eliza, who is forty, will have $5,000 with her.”

The young man reflected for a moment and then inquired:  “You haven’t one about fifty, have you?”

FOUNTAIN PENS

“Fust time you’ve ever milked a cow, is it?” said Uncle Josh to his visiting nephew.  “Wal, y’ do it a durn sight better’n most city fellers do.”

“It seems to come natural somehow,” said the youth, flushing with pleasure.  “I’ve had a good deal of practice with a fountain pen.”

“Percy” asks if we know anything which will change the color of the fingers when they have become yellow from cigarette smoking.

He might try using one of the inferior makes of fountain pens.

FOURTH OF JULY

“You are in favor of a safe and sane Fourth of July?”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Growcher.  “We ought to have that kind of a day at least once a year.”

One Fourth of July night in London, the Empire Music Hall advertised special attractions to American visitors.  All over the auditorium the Union Jack and Stars and Stripes enfolded one another, and at the interludes were heard “Yankee Doodle” and “Hail Columbia,” while a quartette sang “Down upon the Swanee River.”  It was an occasion to swell the heart of an exiled patriot.  Finally came the turn of the Human Encyclopedia, who advanced to the front of the stage and announced himself ready to answer, sight unseen, all questions the audience might propound.  A volley of queries was fired at him, and the Encyclopedia breathlessly told the distance of the earth from Mars, the number of bones in the human skeleton, of square miles in the British Empire, and other equally important facts.  There was a brief pause, in which an American stood up.

“What great event took place July 4, 1776?” he propounded in a loud glad voice.