“Push,” said the button; “Take Pains,” said the window; “Never be led,” said the pencil; “Be up to date,” said the calendar; “Always keep cool,” said the ice; “Never lose your head,” said the hammer; “Make light of everything,” said the fire; “Find a good thing and stick to it,” said the glue. * * * * * =_Dear Old Skip_=—What are goofus feathers?—=_U. N. Omeal._= The fuzz on a peach. * * * * * =_Dear Admiral_=—What is the easiest way to catch a whiffempoof?—=_A. Fisher._= Throw a plug of tobacco in the water and hit him on the head with a club when he comes up to spit. * * * * * =_Dear Captain Bill_=—Why is it that flies can’t see in the winter time?—=_I. C. Fairlywell._= I suppose it is because they leave their specs behind in the summer time. * * * * * =_Dear Skipper_=—Can you dig me up a girl if I come to Robbinsdale to visit you?—=_Geehell._= Sure, but what’s the matter with me getting you a live one? * * * * * =_Dear Skipper_=—What is funnier than a one-arm man trying to wind his wrist watch?—=_Horace._= A glass eye at a keyhole. * * * * * =_Dear Skip_=—How is hash made?—=_Hi Water Shuz._= It isn’t made. It accumulates. * * * * * =_Dear Breezy Bill_=—What’s your idea of the height of optimism?—=_Peter Outt._= Changing your socks from one foot to the other so that the toes will not fit the holes. * * * * * =_Dear Captain Billy_=—Do you think that if I hired a pretty stenographer I would take more interest in my business?—=_J. G. P._= I don’t know whether you would take more interest in your business, but I know your wife will. * * * * * =_Dear Skipper_=—Who was the first original profiteer?—=_C. Serpent._= The whale that swallowed Jonah; he grabbed all the Prophet in sight. * * * * * In case your Ford misses, look in the exhaust pipe. _Pasture Pot Pourri_ Come, Kiss the Heroine! Dear Editor: While coming over to America on a steamer, the mate rushed up to me and threatened to blow up the ship if I didn’t give him a kiss. What did I do? I saved the lives of four hundred people. * * * * * Lives of ’skeeters all remind us, While short skirts are all the go, That to them existence must be Just one great big burlesque show! * * * * * =_Yes, Gus, ’tis sad but only too true that in Georgia the peaches grow on the limbs while at the beaches—but why break the monotony?_= * * * * * The hired hand, Gus, went to town the other night to a dance. When he got back he said that “nothing stands between certain dancers and pneumonia but a sense of loyalty to their employers.”