Don’t think that love’s river continually flows; But just take a tip from a fellow who knows, And pay for the water for washing your clothes— It’s cheaper all round for the gringo. Yet, when you have read this, you don’t think I’m right, And, in spite of the caution, your love-thoughts take flight, Then take my advice, son; wed something that’s white! It’s best in the end for a gringo. If you happen to take a fair damsel to dine, Don’t squander your money to put up a shine, But order her beer (though she may ask for wine), Or you’ll sure be a fool of a gringo. Now, if you must drink, my advice to begin Is to stick to a whisky and soda ... or gin; And never forget that the bottle must win, For it’s never been beat by a gringo. So don’t go on thinking your inside’s a sieve; And now there’s a piece of advice I would give: If you ain’t good, be careful!... and then you may live To get your grey hairs as a gringo. Be slow to offend, and reluctant to blame; Be quick to forgive; and treat all men the same— You must hold a Straight Flush in life’s little game To be worthy the name of a gringo. * * * * * ’Sa Nice Day, Haintit? A stuttering man walked up to a boy who had a parrot in a cage and said, “Ca—ca—can tha—tha—that parrot talk?” “Well,” replied the boy, “if he couldn’t talk better than you I’d kill him.” * * * * * This Sounds Like Bull A visitor who was stopping at a hotel was much disturbed by the snoring of one of his friends sleeping in an adjoining room. Suddenly the snore ceased and death-like stillness oppressed the listener. Thinking that something had happened to his friend, he went into his room, and found him sitting up in bed. The friend said, “I was sleeping with my mouth open, and I think I have swallowed a mouse.” The hotel doctor was sent for, who adopted the novel expedient of calling in the services of the hotel cat, and placed a piece of toasted cheese some little distance from the patient’s mouth, thinking that the mouse, smelling the cheese, would come out to eat it and would fall a prey to the cat. While the remedy was working, the doctor went downstairs to get a drink, and the patient fell asleep and resumed his snoring. When the doctor returned the cat was missing. * * * * * Pat’s Hole Pat was hard at work digging a post-hole, when the boss strolled by. “Well, Pat,” said he, noting the progress of the work, “do you think you will be able to get all that dirt back into the hole again?” Pat looked doubtfully at the pile of dirt, and after some thought, said: “No, sor. Sure, I don’t think I’ve dug the hole deep enough.” _Mirrors of Life and Love_ BY PRINCESS BIBESCO Daughter of Margot Asquith