“John, are you happy there?” she asked.

“Yes, d-e-a-r.”

“Are you happier than you were on the earth.”

“Yes, d-e-a-r.”

“Ah,” she breathed.  “Heaven must be a wonderful place.”

“I g-u-e-s-s s-o, b-u-t I-m n-o-t t-h-e-r-e y-e-t.”

“Well,” said Farmer Corntossel, “I reckon I’ve done a pretty good afternoon’s work.”

“But all you did,” commented Jud Tunkins, contemptuously, “was to sit on the fence and whittle.”

“Yes; but what I whittled up was the family ouija board.”

PARENTS

When Ma Is Sick

When Ma is sick she pegs away;
She’s quiet, though; not much t’ say. 
She goes right on a-doin’ things,
An’ sometimes laughs and even sings. 
She says she don’t feel extra well. 
But then it’s just a kind o’ spell. 
She’ll be all right tomorrow sure,
A good old sleep will be the cure. 
An’ Pa he sniffs an’ makes no kick,
For women folks is always sick,
An’ Ma, she smiles, lets on she’s glad—­
When Ma is sick it ain’t so bad.

             When Pa Is Sick
  When Pa is sick, he’s scared to death,
  An’ Ma an’ us just holds our breath. 
  He crawls in bed, an’ puffs and grunts,
  And does all kinds of crazy stunts. 
  He wants “Doc” Brown, an’ mighty quick,
  For when Pa’s ill he’s mighty sick. 
  He gasps and groans, an’ sort o’ sighs,
  He talks so queer, an’ rolls his eyes. 
  Ma jumps an’ runs, an’ all of us,
  An’ all the house is in a fuss. 
  An’ peace and joy is mighty skeerce—­
  When Pa is sick, it’s something fierce.

“Come upstairs, and let me wash your hands,” said mother, when she arrived with her little daughter for tea at granny’s.

“I don’t want to go up,” wailed Winnie, aged four.

“Let her wash them down in the kitchen,” called grand-mamma.  “She can do it just as well.”

“No,” her mother said firmly.  “I want her to come up with me!”

Winnie went upstairs as slowly as possible.

“Oh,” said she, turning a wrathful tearful face to her mother, “Why don’t you obey your mother?”

             Three Children
  Three children sliding on the ice
    Upon a summer’s day. 
  As it fell out they all fell in,
    The rest they ran away. 
  Now, had these children been at home,
    Or sliding on dry ground,
  Ten thousand pounds to one penny
    They had not all been drowned. 
  You parents all that children have,
    And you too that have none,
  If you would have them safe abroad
    Pray keep them safe at home.

WILLIE—­“I guess my dad must have been a pretty bad boy.”

TOMMIE—­“What makes you think that?”

WILLIE—­“Because he knows exactly what questions to ask me when he wants to know what I have been doing.”—­Puck.