There is many a cup ’twixt the lip and the slip.—­Judge.

One swallow doesn’t make a summer, but it breaks a New Year’s resolution.—­Life.

DOCTOR (feeling Sandy’s pulse in bed)—­“What do you drink.”

SANDY (with brightening face)—­“Oh, I’m nae particular, doctor!  Anything you’ve got with ye.”

  Here’s to the girls of the American shore,
  I love but one, I love no more,
  Since she’s not here to drink her part,
  I’ll drink her share with all my heart.

A well-known Scottish architect was traveling in Palestine recently, when news reached him of an addition to his family circle.  The happy father immediately provided himself with some water from the Jordan to carry home for the christening of the infant, and returned to Scotland.

On the Sunday appointed for the ceremony he duly presented himself at the church, and sought out the beadle in order to hand over the precious water to his care.  He pulled the flask from his pocket, but the beadle held up a warning hand, and came nearer to whisper: 

“No the noo, sir; no the noo!  Maybe after the kirk’s oot!”

When President Eliot of Harvard was in active service as head of the university, reports came to him that one of his young charges was in the habit of absorbing more liquor than was good for him, and President Eliot determined to do his duty and look into the matter.

Meeting the young man under suspicion in the yard shortly after breakfast one day the president marched up to him and demanded, “Young man, do you drink?”

“Why, why, why,” stammered the young man, “why, President Eliot, not so early in the morning, thank you.”

WIFE (on auto tour)—­“That fellow back there said there is a road-house a few miles down the road.  Shall we stop there?”

HUSBAND—­“Did he whisper it or say it out loud?”

A priest went to a barber shop conducted by one of his Irish parishioners to get a shave.  He observed the barber was suffering from a recent celebration, but decided to take a chance.  In a few moments the barber’s razor had nicked the father’s cheek.  “There, Pat, you have cut me,” said the priest as he raised his hand and caressed the wound.  “Yis, y’r riv’rance,” answered the barber.  “That shows you,” continued the priest, in a tone of censure, “what the use of liquor will do.”  “Yis, y’r riv’rance,” replied the barber, humbly, “it makes the skin tender.”

Ex-congressman Asher G. Caruth, of Kentucky, tells this story of an experience he once had on a visit to a little Ohio town.

“I went up there on legal business,” he says, “and, knowing that I should have to stay all night, I proceeded directly to the only hotel.  The landlord stood behind the desk and regarded me with a kindly air as I registered.  It seems that he was a little hard of hearing, a fact of which I was not aware.  As I jabbed the pen back into the dish of bird shot, I said: