“Sure,” said the boy, “but youse mustn’t fergit that bank directors is paid high in Noo Yawk.”

At Any Cost

A darky preacher was lost in the happy selection of his text, which he repeated in vigorous accents of pleading.

“Oh, bredern, at de las’ day dere’s gwine to be sheep and dere’s gwine to be goats.  Who’s gwine to be de sheep, an’ who’s gwine to be de goats?  Let’s all try to be like de li’l white lambs, bredern.  Shall we be de goats, sisters?  Naw, we’s gwine to be de sheep.  Who’s gwine to be de sheep, bredern, an’ who’s gwine to be de goats?  Tak’ care ob youh souls, sisters; tak’ care ob youh souls.  Remember, dere’s gwine to be goats an’ sheep.  Who’s gwine to be de sheep an’ who’s gwine to be de goats?”

Just then a solitary Irishman who had been sitting in the back of the church, listening attentively, rose and said: 

“Oi’ll be the goat.  Go on; tell us the joke, Elder.  Oi’ll be the goat!”

Where Was Bill?

Bill Jones is a country storekeeper down in Louisiana, and last spring he went to New Orleans to purchase a stock of goods.  The goods were shipped immediately and reached home before he did.  When the boxes of goods were delivered at his store by the drayman his wife happened to look at the largest; she uttered a loud cry and called for a hammer.  A neighbor, hearing the screams, rushed to her assistance and asked what was the matter.  The wife, pale and faint, pointed to an inscription on the box which read as follows;

“Bill inside.”

All That Glisters is Not Gold

One day an Irishman was seated in the waiting-room of a station with an odorous pipe in his mouth.  One of the attendants called his attention to the sign:  “No smoking.”

“Well,” said Pat, “I’m not a-smokin’.”

“But you have a pipe in your mouth.”

“Shure, an’ I’ve shoes on me feet an’ I’m not walkin’.”

Her Affectionate Brothers

It was Commencement Day at a well-known girls’ seminary, and the father of one of the young women came to attend the graduation exercises.  He was presented to the principal, who said, “I congratulate you, sir, upon your extremely large and affectionate family.”

“Large and affectionate?” he stammered and looking very much surprised.

“Yes, indeed,” said the principal.  “No less than twelve of your daughter’s brothers have called frequently during the winter to take her driving and sleighing, while your eldest son escorted her to the theatre at least twice a week.  Unusually nice brothers they are.”

The Voice of the Lady

“Life” recently printed this extremely clever sketch by Tom Masson: 

It was a quiet Sunday rooming on a side street.  A playful breeze had lifted off the tarpaulin that covered the newsstand, and the magazines were enjoying a quiet hour by themselves.