Ikey, eleven years of age and of unmistakable Hebrew persuasion, was taken out of school and put to work in a nearby store, where he was rewarded with the princely honorarium of a dollar and a half per week. For the first three weeks, Ikey brought home the pay envelope on Saturday night and turned it over to his mother. On the fourth Saturday, however, he was five cents short. “Ikey,” said his mother, “where is that other nickel?” “I need that nickel, ma,” replied Ikey. For the next three weeks this dialogue was repeated when the week’s pay was turned in. The following Saturday Rachel had further cause for suspicion, for there was only $1.40 in the pay envelope. “Ikey,” she said, “what have you done with that dime?” “Ma,” said Ikey, “I had to have that dime myself.” “Now, Ikey, tell your mother the truth; are you going with a woman?” * * * * * Overwhelmingly A member of Congress recently became a parent. On announcing the news the doctor exclaimed gleefully: “I congratulate you, sir; you are the father of triplets.” The congressman was astonished. “No, no, no,” he replied, with more than parliamentary emphasis, “there must be some mistake in the returns. I demand a recount!” * * * * * Cassidy’s Routing Employed in the Great Northern yards in Minneapolis is a switchman whom we will call Cassidy. One day Cassidy entered the superintendent’s office without removing his cap or pipe. “I want a pass to Duluth,” he said. His evident show of disrespect peeved the superintendent. “Well, Mr. Cassidy, you haven’t approached me in quite the proper manner,” he answered gruffly. “Here you have your cap on your head and your clay pipe stuck in your mouth. Do you believe this is showing proper respect for your superior officer? If you desire a pass to Duluth, you must leave this office at once, walk around for an hour or two, and come back. As you step in my office, you will ask for the superintendent of the Great Northern; I will reply, ‘I am the superintendent of the Great Northern, what can I do for you?’” Cassidy promptly departed. He had been gone about an hour, when he came back, pipe in his pocket and cap in his hand. He walked briskly into the superintendent’s office and inquired in a rather superior manner, “Are you the superintendent of the Great Northern?” “I am, what can I do for you?” was the reply. “You can go to hell, I’ve got a pass over the Northern Pacific.” * * * * * It is always good to be nice, but not always nice to be good. _Limber Kicks_ Bow Wow This is so the entire world through, You imagine a maiden loves yough— Like the wind bends the bough, You are bent by the rough, Then left and forsaken—bough-wough. * * * * * Before marriage, With wondrous care, She seeks the mirror And bangs her hair.