SOCIALISTS

“What’s the difference between a socialist and a plutocrat?”

“There are many; but the leading one is that the former fights for his principle and the latter for his interest.”

SOCIETY

“Dad, what’s a social scale?”

“Well, generally speaking old man, it’s a place where money is weighed.”

REGULAR CUSTOMER—­“I shall want a large quantity of flowers from you next week for my daughter’s coming out.”

FLOWER WOMAN—­“Yes, mum.  You shall ’ave the very best for ’er, pore dear.  Wot were she put in for?”—­Punch.

WILLIS—­“What makes you think it is easier for a rich man to land in Society than for an immigrant to land in America?”

GILLIS—­“In the former case the literacy test isn’t as strict.”

AUNT—­“You’ll be late for the party, won’t you, dear?”

NIECE—­“Oh, no, auntie.  In our set nobody goes to a party until everybody else gets there.”

Man it attracted to society by a desire to improve himself; and leaves it for the same reason.

SOCIOLOGY

Catalog Class:  “300 is the number for sociology.  Now what does that word mean to you, children?” One little girl stands up, smooths out her frock, straightens her bow, folds her hands, and, being properly adjusted to recite, exclaims:  “Sociology is a science that teaches you how to sew.”

SOLDIERS

Noah would have saved future soldiers a lot of trouble if he had swatted those two cooties when they marched up the gang plank of the ark.

SOUND

Sound travels at the rate of 400 yards per second.

Exceptions to this rule: 

Scandal:  1,000 yards.

Flattery:  500 yards.

Truth:  2-1/2 yards.

Alarm-clock:——?

SOUVENIRS

Secretary of State Lansing slipped out of the council chamber and went souvenir hunting in the palace.  Luck was with him, he said, for he found a remarkable piece of antique wall-paper.

Next day a frantic Japanese stenographer was looking for his shorthand notes.

SPECULATION

“My wife watches the sugar market closely.”

“Speculating?”

“In a small way.  She borrows when it’s high and pays back when it’s low.”

The old millionaire and his beautiful bride, after their quiet wedding, had a quiet wedding breakfast a deux.  Astrakhan caviar, eggs pompadour, a truffled chicken, fresh California peas, champagne—­so the quiet breakfast ran.

“My dear,” said the old millionaire, as the fruit course, a superb Florida melon, came on, “tell me, dear”—­and he laid his withered hand on her young one—­“do you love me for what I am or for what I was?”