EDITOR:  Did you meet the office boy with the waste-paper basket as you came upstairs?

YOUTH:  Yes, yes, I did.

EDITOR:  Well, he was carrying out your ideas.

NO PLACE FOR HIM

On the western plains the sheepman goes out with several thousand head and one human companion.  The natural result is that the pair, forced on one another when they least want it, form the habit of hating each other.

An ex-sheepman while in a narrative mood one evening was telling a party of friends of a fellow he once rode with.  “Not a word had passed between us for more than a week, and that night when we rolled up in our blankets he suddenly asked: 

“‘Hear that cow beller?’

“‘Sounds to me like a bull,’ I replied.

“No answer, but the following morning I noticed him packing up.

“‘Going to leave?’ I questioned.

“‘Yes,’ he replied.

“‘What for?’

“Too much argument,’”

IN THE OLD DAYS

Lord Northcliffe at a Washington luncheon was talking about the British Premier.

“Mr. Lloyd George is the idol of the nation,” he said.  “It is hard to believe how unpopular he was, at least among the Unionists, once.  Among the many stories circulated about Mr. Lloyd George’s unpopularity at that time there was one which concerned a rescue from drowning.  The heroic rescuer, when a gold medal was presented to him for his brave deed, modestly declared: 

“’I don’t deserve this medal.  I did nothing but my duty.  I saw our friend here struggling in the water.  I knew he must drown unless someone saved him.  So I plunged in, swam out to him, turned him over to make sure it wasn’t Lloyd George, and then lugged him to safety on my back.’”

TAKING NO CHANCES

A big darky was being registered.

“Ah can’t go to wah,” he answered in re exemption, “foh they ain’t nobody to look afteh ma wife.”

A dapper little undersized colored brother stepped briskly up and inquired, “What kind of a lookin’ lady is yoh wife?”

TOO PERSONAL

Upon the recent death of an American politician, who at one time served his country in a very high legislative place, a number of newspaper men were collaborating on an obituary notice.

“What shall we say of the former senator?” asked one of the men.

“Oh, just put down that he was always faithful to his trust.”

“And,” queried a cynical member of the group, “shall we mention the name of the trust?”

AN ACROBAT IN THE SQUAD

Sergeant (drilling awkward squad):  “Company!  Attention, company!  Lift up your left leg and hold it straight out in front of you!”