Page Nineteen 



An army oflicor, out to sec how his sentries were (hscharginfi; their 

 duties, overheard the following conversation : 

 "Halt! Who is there?" 

 "Friend— with a bottle." 

 "Pass, friend. Halt, bottle." 



From the Dodge Xews: 



The Englishman boasts he is a self-made man, and he worships his 

 maker. 



The Scotchman keeps the "Sawbeth" and everything else he can 

 lay his hands on. 



The Welshman pra^'s to the Almighty on Sunday and on everyone 

 else for the rest of the week. 



The Irishman doesn't know what he wants and won't be happy till he 

 gets it. 



First young lady : "These are fine apples." 



Mr. Akele}-: "Of course. They came from the same soil I was 

 raised on." 



First young lady: "Then they're Pippins." 

 Second young lady: "No, they're Baldwins." 



From The Home Sector: 



"Do you think, dearest, that you could manage on my salary?" 

 the fond youth asked. 



" I think I could, darling," the sweet girl responded; "but how would 

 you get along?" 



No matter how quiet things may be in other departments of the 

 Museum, John Clark is ahvays plugging away. 



It has been reported that the manufacture of Ford machines has been 

 suspended. But one observant employee tells us that this must be 

 another of John Seip's "rumors," as judging from the apparently ever 

 increasing numbers of Fords to be seen running about, the things are still 

 breeding. 



According to one of our reliable city dailies, a Western man has just 

 been arrested by the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. He 

 left his Ford out in a blizzard with no blanket on it. 



