It was too droll. He laughed heartily as he slid under the table. * * * * * A Single Woman’s Geography Cape of Good Hope—Sixteen. Cape Flattery—Twenty. Cape Lookout—Twenty-five. Cape Fear—Thirty. Cape Farewell—Forty. * * * * * Men Men are what women marry. They have two feet, two hands, and sometimes two wives, but never more than one collar button, or one idea at a time. Like Turkish cigarettes, men are all made of the same material, the only difference being that some are a little better distinguished than others. Generally speaking, they may be divided into three classes, husbands, bachelors, and widowers. Bachelors are a commodity, husbands a necessity, and widowers a luxury, especially when making love. _Arthur Neale’s Page_ I took my girl out last night, but when I tried to kiss her she smacked my face and carried on something terrible. When I got back to her house with her again I said: “Katie, what’d you want to lose your head for like that tonight?” She said: “Well, maybe I did lose my head. But I kept my reputation, thank God!” * * * * * Something to Worry About In the new Folies Bergere show, Paris, the girlies are clad entirely in paint, news dispatches state. * * * * * “Are your feet insured?” I asked A dancing girl from France. No answer. Then she said at last: “It’s not that kind of dance.” * * * * * In any newspaper you can find pictures of charming women underneath which it reads: “Miss So-and-So, 20 years of age.” (Why do those printers always leave out that word “was”?) * * * * * As I was toying with the N. Y. Coffee Cake in the Times Square Automat the other day, I sighted an old friend I hadn’t seen for several years. I went up to him and said: “Why, Billy, where have you been keeping yourself all these years?” He said: “Well, early in 1914 I went to Paris to study art.” “Is that so?” I said; “and did you get far with your studies?” “Well,” he said, “it was like this. When I arrived there in June, 1914, we began by taking studies from the head. In July it was head and shoulders; and in August, in August that darned war started. Bad luck to the Germans!” * * * * * _To make their dresses nowadays,_ _Girls use a lot of cloth._ _But looks as if in future days,_ _It’s hardship for the moth._ * * * * * HE: “I’d be tickled to death to teach you to swim.” SHE: “I’d be tickled to death if you did.” * * * * * _I saw a statue yesterday,_ _And on the quiet between us,_ _I think it’s quite correct to say_ _The lady’s name was Venus._ _Unveiled in such and such a year_ _Was written at the base._ _But those who took the veil, ’twas clear,_ _Did not again replace._