“Mike,” he exclaimed, “I nearly got caught. I was just about to walk into my home when I saw, through the window, the boss eating a midnight supper with my wife.” * * * * * Here’s to Gretchen in the kitchen Frying doughnuts in the grease, With her lover bending o’er her, Coaxing, begging for a piece Of the doughnuts in the grease. * * * * * Little Miss Muffet, who sat on a tuffet, Eating her lunch one day, When a speeder espied her and drew up beside her, And both of ’em beat it away. * * * * * Foolish Bunk _We cannot see any head or tail to this story, but as my good friend Neely sent it in, I’ll publish it for his benefit.—CAPTAIN BILLY._ A young man had an appointment for a lesson in phrenology and also an appointment to meet his sweetheart. He was undecided which to keep, when the girl telephoned. Learning of his difficulties, she asked him if he had a coin in his pocket. He replied affirmatively. “Well, flip it,” she said. * * * * * Not a Scotch Soldier! Scene: Hotel verandah in Rhodesia. Time, 8:30 a. m., early 1919. Personae: A South African Scottish N. C. O. in the garb of old Gael, and civilian, to whom the former is telling the war tale. Enter Indian waiter, who breathlessly addresses the soldier: “You are wanted, sir, at once, at Room 23, and the lady says she feels bad this morning.” “Great Scot! What lady? Excuse me, you fellows.” Precedes his hasty flight upstairs, where he had already noted that morning the presence of a very dainty pair of lady’s shoes outside the door of No. 23. Knocking at the door, it was partially opened, and the fair unknown, peeping through the crack, no sooner caught sight of the kiltie than she exclaimed: “My God! What do you want here?” Soldier: “The coolie waiter said you wanted me badly.” Lady: “The ⸺ fool! Why, I sent him for a Scotch and soda!” * * * * * I was born in Kentucky, Raised in Tennessee. If you don’t like my peaches, Don’t shake my tree. Oh, tell me how long Must I have to wait, Will you jazz with me now Or must I hesitate. _Classified Ads_ Getting Rid of Grandma (From the Mount Horeb, Wis., Times.) Krohen Bros. have been doing a land-office business butchering hags for individual families in town. * * * * * Objection Sustained? (From the Clarendon (Eng.) Mercury.) WANTED—A really plain but experienced and efficient governess for three girls, eldest 10. Music, French and Latin required. Brilliancy of conversation, fascination of manner, and symmetry of form objected to, as the father is much at home, and there are grown-up sons. * * * * * Arise, Ye Dead, and Walk (Sign in Seattle Street Car.)