“Not oxactly.  It vhas a leedle mistake.”

“It’ll cost you $5.”

“Vheel, dot ain’t so bad.  I pay him oop und go home to preakfast.”

“Be careful next time.”

“Oh, I vill dot.  Next time I vhas tight I go home on some shtreets midout cars.  If I take some ice-wagon for my house I pelief I got cooled off pooty queek.”

SHARPER THAN A RAZOR.

A long-waisted man, with the nose of a fox and an eye full of speculation, walked up to a second-hand clothier, in Buffalo, the other day, and said: 

“See that overcoat hanging out down there?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’ve taken a fancy to it.  It’s rather cheeky to ask you to go down there, but I’ll make it an object; I won’t give but $8 for the coat, but I’ll give you $1 to buy it for me.  You are also a Jew and know how to beat him down.  Here are $9.”

The dealer took the money and started off, and in five minutes was back with the coat.

“Good!” chuckled the other.  “I reckoned you’d lay him out.  How much did you make for your share?”

“Vhell, ash dot is my branch shore, and I only ask six dollar fur de goat, I was about tree dollar ahead.”

A COMING DIVIDEND.

Last fall, when a would-be purchaser of railroad stock called upon Russell Sage and asked him regarding the outlook of certain stock, Mr. Sage replied: 

“Splendid idea!  That stock is certain to raise fifteen per cent.”

“Upon what do you base your calculations?”

“Upon the immense crops to be moved along that line.”

The other day the same gentleman again interviewed Mr. Sage regarding the same stock, and the great financier replied: 

“Best outlook in the world for that stock!  Certain to advance fifteen per cent.”

“Do you base your calculations upon last fall’s crops?”

“No, sir; it’s going to be an open winter, and the line will save enough in snow-plows to declare a dividend of five per cent.”

* * * * *

At a party:  Merchant—­“Ah!  How d’do, Mr. Blank?  How is your paper coming out?  I read it daily.  By the way, you are getting up a report of this grand assembly, I suppose?” Editor—­“No.  By the way, how is your store coming on?  My cook buys a good deal of you.  You are here drumming up custom, I suppose?”

* * * * *

“Yes,” said Mrs. Towers, as she expatiated upon the beauties of her flower-garden, “I have given it great care, and if you come over in a week or two, I expect to be able to show you some beautiful scarlet pneumonias.”

* * * * *

THE PRAIRIE FARMER

AND

YOUTH’S COMPANION