* * * * * _Oh, Myrt, do you know Aurora Borealis? They say she was all lit up last night._ * * * * * No, Geraldine, Sandy Hook is not a Scotchman. * * * * * I was walking down the street the other day and on the far side was a fellow who looked familiar. “Hello, Bill,” I says. “Hello, Tom,” says he. “My name ain’t Tom,” I says. “Well, my name ain’t Bill, either,” says he. With that, I looks at him an’ he looks at me an’ sure enough, it was neither of us. * * * * * Height of Speed _Our idea of a fast guy is one who can turn out the light and get in bed before the room gets dark._ * * * * * Why don’t girls figure that it costs money to press trousers? * * * * * Our Book Review When a girl reading a novel begins to wet her lips, the hero and heroine are about to meet. * * * * * _Girls will play fast and loose with men,_ _We know; so what’s the use?_ _So first we’ll hold the loose ones, then,_ _We’ll turn the fast ones loose._ * * * * * The angels that fear to tread where fools rush in must miss a lot of fun. * * * * * =_A woman is not a heroine, Geraldine, just because she is dying for a man._= * * * * * Ain’t It Awful, Mabel! Our friend Hooper writes us that last fall he was in Alaska; went out to spend the evening with his best girl and didn’t come back for six months. Some night, we’d say. * * * * * Height of Laziness A fellow who gets up at five o’clock in the morning so that he’ll have more time to loaf. * * * * * Har, Har, Ha! Heard a good joke this morning. Is it really a good one? Must be. My stenographer laughed until she almost fell off my lap when I told it to her. * * * * * A fast night makes a slow day. How well do I know it this morning. * * * * * Plug it Up He—My love for you is like a rushing brook. She—Dam it! * * * * * Oh, for a world of equal balance. Here we find some women with no husbands atall, atall, while others have husbands and assistant husbands. * * * * * _Women are like automobiles. Some are chummy roadsters and some are merely runabouts._ * * * * * A New Melody One of the latest song hits in Southern California is “And we will get a little bungalow in Hollywood and live our own sweet way.” * * * * * _Indeed, Aloysius, you’re right—socks are the most frugal things in the world. They wouldn’t think of dropping a scent until they’re washed. Hoping you are the same, I am,_ _Antiseptically speaking,_