The reform warden always made it a point to give each new arrival a chance to do the work with which he was familiar, if the penitentiary dealt in his line.  A tailor named Levinski arrived, and it was ordered that he be employed at that trade, if there was an opening.  There wasn’t.  He was asked if he was adept at anything else.  “Yes,” he replied, with a smile, “I am a crackerjack traveling salesman.”

PROFITEERS

The wicked garage-keeper was trying to figure out his income tax.

“If a man brings his car to me to be repaired, and it costs me sixty cents, and I charge him sixteen dollars, what per cent profit would I be making?” he demanded of his son and heir.

“I’m sure I don’t know, pop,” answered that young hopeful.  “You’ll have to get somebody who knows the rules of grand larceny to tell you that.  The rules for percentage wouldn’t cover it!”

“Say, Cy, I jest found out what a rube is.”

“Thet so, Hiram?  What is it?”

“Why, it’s one o’ them forty-one hour, ninety-five dollar a week labor guys that thinks a farmer is goin’ to sell him food cheap.”

Old Omar doubtless had us in mind when he spoke of the profit’s paradise to come.

Another reason why pickpockets seem to be on the increase may be because profiteering isn’t what it was a few months ago.

PROGRESS

I was explaining the other day, to a member of our organization, that there was no such thing as “standing still” in this world—­that we lost ground immediately we ceased to make progress.  Quick as a flash he put my thought in a few words when he remarked, “We’re either coming or going.”  That’s it exactly.  When we do not improve, learn, develop old ideas or find new ones—­we go backwards.  And you and I know how fast we go, when there’s no driving power to keep us going forward.—­E.  M. Statler.

“No, sah, Ah doan’t neber ride on dem things,” said an old colored lady looking in on the merry-go-round.  “Why, de other day I seen dat Rastus Johnson git on an’ ride as much as a dollah’s worth an’ git off at the very same place he got on at, an’ I sez to him, ‘Rastus,’ I sez, ‘yo’ spent yo’ money, but whar yo’ been?’”

  Beneath this starry arch,
    Naught resteth or is still;
  But all things hold their march
    As if by one great will. 
  Move one, move all: 
  Hark to the footfall! 
  On, on, forever.

  —­Harriet Martineau.

PROHIBITION

A bone-dry nation means a life full of sorrows without any chance of drowning them.

Classic Thoughts on Prohibition