* * * * * We Should Worry The porch was dark. The hour was late. The couple sat whispering among the shadows. “Mary,” called a voice, “it’s time for you to come in.” No movement. “Come in, Mary.” Still no movement. He asked: “Don’t you mind your mother?” “Not unless you do, Jimmy.” * * * * * Here’s Lookin’ Atchew! Boy—“What is a grass widow?” Father—“A woman whose husband died with the hay fever.” * * * * * Something to Worry About Among the things you read about but never see is a crease in a fat man’s trousers. * * * * * “Along the Road” I walked a mile with Pleasure; She chattered all the way, But left me none the wiser For all she had to say. I walked a mile with Sorrow And ne’er a word said she; But oh, the things I learned from her When Sorrow walked with me! * * * * * Broadway’s Leg Lane (From New York Times) HOMELESS HUSBANDS—If you want a friend, a pal—a WIFE!—look for one like the Lonely Lady in BEAUTY AND NICK. Such as she is rarely to be found in this, the age of sex and shekels—surely not in the endless procession of poppy-painted dames and damsels, young as youth, wrinkled as an O’Shanter witch; all with skirts so tight as to make them goat-gaited; so short that these bogus beauties have turned the most beautiful Avenue of the world into a mere leg lane—a free rival of the sash-clad ladies of a Broadway burlesque. * * * * * These Were the Good Old Days “Step up, boys! Ladies not allowed! See for yourself. And we all paid the two bits and saw a jackass.” * * * * * Let me introduce myself. My name is Sol. Any relation to Lysol? No, Ingersoll. Watch me! * * * * * Torch Pulls This One It’s a long road that has no roadhouse. _Our Rural Mail Box_ =_Bridget_=—Better put on your woolen socks, Bridget, or you will catch cold in your lungs. * * * * * =_Andy Gump_=—A continuous buzzing noise in your ears is not always a sign of serious mental trouble, or any other illness. It is probably the first indication that your wife needs a new hat. * * * * * =_Sweet Marie_=—You are mistaken, Marie. The Scottish Highlanders are not members of the Middlesex Regiment. * * * * * =_Weeping Winnie_=—Cheer up, Winnie. You are overdosed on pessimism and, in retrospection, I feel sure you have presented a very sad aspect to the cynics of humanity. * * * * * =_Queen Liz_=—Your singing lessons may keep the wolf away from the door, ’tis true, if the wolf hears you. * * * * * =_“You can’t pick me up—I’m not of that metal,” said the piece of glass to the bar magnet._=