“My dear,” grinned the fatuous chump to his wife, “that girl over there is smiling at me.” “That’s nothing,” replied the better half, “when I first saw you I laughed like hell.” * * * * * Joys of Matrimony Papa—“Has the young man who has been calling on you given you any encouragement?” Daughter—“Oh, yes, father! Just think last night he asked me if you and mother were pleasant to live with.” * * * * * Scotty’s Wail O wad some power the giftie gie ’em, To see their legs as others see ’em! It was frae monie a short skirt free ’em, And foolish notion, That toothpicks and piano legs Inspire devotion. * * * * * Did It Ever Happen to You? Met a pretty girl one day, Took her down to see a play; Bought her candy, cake and cream, And other things that she had seen. Thought I was in good all right, When I took her home that night, Hung around and begged a kiss, And what think you she said, this miss? “Of all the cheap skates I ever lamped with my ‘once overs,’ You are the crustiest two by twice, hair-brained gazeke on Gawd’s earth, Shake those gunboats of yours and evaporate. GOOD NIGHT!” * * * * * Answer This One, Girls He—“I am going to ask you a question. If you answer ‘yes,’ you mean ‘no,’ but if you do not answer, I am to have a kiss.” She, after much deliberation—“All right, ‘shoot’.” He—“If I should kiss you, would you be angry?” She—“——” _Limber Kicks_ Gal O’ Mine _When first I kissed my little gal,_ _And felt her sweet embraces,_ _I knew I’d found an “only pal”_ _And would soon get down to cases._ _Alas, it proved a ghastly joke,_ _My friends began to snicker;_ _I found myself K. O.’d and broke,_ _Dang that gal. of liquor._ * * * * * “I will be true while you’re away,” Thus ran the damsel’s song. “I will be true; but, oh, I say, Don’t be away too long.” * * * * * Beware, Oil Men! By Casper Y. Homing. Oh, mother, may I go out to swim, Way down behind the willers, I’ll hang my clothes on a hickory limb, And won’t go near the drillers. * * * * * Hibrow Poetry _Her petticoat was georgette blue,_ _Her dress was cheese cloth red,_ _When she passes ’tween me and light,_ _I always turn my head._ * * * * * Courting Up to Date “The demure, shrinking type of maiden used to be able to walk to the altar with the matrimonial bacon,” complains Miss Etta Kette, “but the one who brings home the husband now-a-days seems to be the one who grabs him and bites her initials in his cheek.” * * * * * A Sundodger Baby—“I want my bottle.”