Darkness cleaving to darkness, she hung close to him, pressed herself into the soft flow of his kiss, pressed herself down, down to the source, and core of his kiss, herself covered and enveloped in the warm, fecund flow of his kiss that traveled over her, flowed over the last fiber of her, so they were one stream, one dark fecundity and she clung at the core of him with lips holding open the very bottomest source of her. * * * * * Drummers, Front and Center, March! The Sunday School teacher had been telling her class about the benefits of being good. At the end of her discourse, she turned to a bright-eyed little miss and asked: “Where do good little girls go when they die?” “To heaven,” was the prompt reply. “And where do the bad girls go?” “To the depot to see the traveling men come in.” * * * * * Justification _“Brass shines with use; good garments would be worn;_ _Houses not dwelt in, are in dust forlorn._ _Beauty not exercised, with age is spent—_ _Nor one or two men are sufficient!”—Marlowe._ * * * * * Starting the Day Right A pretty stenographer had been transferred by the firm to another city. The first morning after the change had been made, she came into her new office, hung her hat and coat on the rack and meandered leisurely to the boss’ desk. “Well,” she said, “I suppose you start in the day here the same as we do in Blanktown?” “Why, yes, I suppose so,” replied the boss. “Well, come on, then, kiss me so I can start working.” _Questions and Answers_ =_Dear Captain_=—Why is it that people say I remind them of a river?—=_T. Bone._= Perhaps it is because your mouth is bigger than your head. * * * * * =_Dear Skipper_=—What is meant by a triumvirate?—=_Bob O. Link._= Agnes, Mabel and Becky. * * * * * =_Dear Cap_=—I have often wondered where all the jokes came from.—=_Al Fresco._= I don’t know, where were you born? * * * * * =_Dear Bill_=—My feet are always cold. Do you know anything I could do for them?—=_Jean Ology._= Did you ever try shining your shoes with stove polish? * * * * * =_Dear Captain_=—I found a pair of ice tongs in my parlor. What shall I do?—=_Art I. Choke._= Demand a reduction in your ice bill. * * * * * =_Dear Cap. Bill_=—Judging from your last letters to me your fountain pen must leak all of the time. Why not get a new one?—=_Maggie Zeen._= No, you are mistaken. It leaks only when I’ve got ink in it. * * * * * =_Dear Cap_=—Can you give me an example of the height of curiosity?—=_Otto Mattick._= A woman sticking her finger into a bowl of soup to see if it leaves a dent. * * * * *