Nobody had an idea.

“Mackintosh, as I’m alive!” declared the southerner.

Everybody laughed except the Englishman.  “It’s just like a Scotsman to be so obstinate!” he sniffed, and was much astonished when the rest of the party laughed more than ever.

A Scottish minister, taking his walk early in the morning, found one of his parishioners recumbent in a ditch.

“Where hae you been the nicht, Andrew?” asked the minister.

“Weel, I dinna richtly ken,” answered the prostrate one, “whether it was a wedding’ or a funeral, but whichever it was it was a most extraordinary success.”

See also Thrift.

SEASICKNESS

A Philadelphian, on his way to Europe, was experiencing seasickness for the first time.  Calling his wife to his bedside, he said in a weak voice:  “Jennie, my will is in the Commercial Trust Company’s care.  Everything is left to you, dear.  My various stocks you will find in my safe-deposit box.”  Then he said fervently:  “And, Jenny, bury me on the other side.  I can’t stand this trip again, alive or dead.”—­Joe King.

Motto for the dining saloon of an ocean steamship:  “Man wants but little here below, nor wants that little long.”

On the steamer the little bride was very much concerned about her husband, who was troubled with dyspepsia.

“My husband is peculiarly liable to seasickness, Captain,” remarked the bride.  “Could you tell him what to do in case of an attack?”

“That won’t be necessary, Madam,” replied the Captain; “he’ll do it.”

A clergyman who was holding a children’s service at a Continental winter resort had occasion to catechize his hearers on the parable, of the unjust steward.  “What is a steward?” he asked.

A little boy who had arrived from England a few days before held up his hand.  “He is a man, sir,” he replied, with a reminiscent look on his face, “who brings you a basin.”

“The first day out was perfectly lovely,” said the young lady just back from abroad.  “The water was as smooth as glass, and it was simply gorgeous.  But the second day was rough and—­er—­decidedly disgorgeous.”

The great ocean liner rolled and pitched.

“Henry,” faltered the young bride, “do you still love me?”

“More than ever, darling!” was Henry’s fervent answer.

Then there was an eloquent silence.

“Henry,” she gasped, turning her pale, ghastly face away, “I thought that would make me feel better, but it doesn’t!”

  There was a young man from Ostend,
  Who vowed he’d hold out to the end;
    But when half way over
    From Calais to Dover,
  He did what he didn’t intend.

SEASONS

  There was a young fellow named Hall,
  Who fell in the spring in the fall;
    ’Twould have been a sad thing
    If he’d died in the spring,
  But he didn’t—­he died in the fall.