Wedded, in Chicago, Otho Neer and Lucille Dimond. Fashion your own setting. * * * Oh, dear! Rollin Pease, the singer, is around again, reminding sundry readers of the difficulty of keeping them on a knife. * * * "THOSE FLAPJACKS OF BROWN'S." (_Postscriptum._) I'll write no more verses--plague take 'em!-- Court neither your smiles nor your frowns, If you'll only please tell how to make 'em, Those flapjacks of Brown's. D. W. A. Three cupfuls of flour will do nicely, And toss in a teaspoon of salt; Next add baking powder, precisely Two teaspoons, the stuff to exalt; Of sugar two tablespoons, heaping-- (All spoons should be heaping, says Neal); Then mix it with strokes that are sweeping, And stir like the Deil. Three eggs. (Tho' the missus may sputter, You'll pay to her protest no heed.) A size-of-an-egg piece of butter, And milk as you happen to need. Now mix the whole mess with a beater; Don't get it too thick or too thin. (And I pause to remark that this meter Is awkward as sin.) Of course there are touches that only A genius like Brown can impart; And genius is everywhere lonely, And no one but Brown has the art. I picture him stirring--a gentle Exponent of modern Romance, With his shirttails, in style Oriental, Outside of his pants. * * * THE DICTATERS. Sir: I have lost a year's growth since I went into business in answering questions about the letters that appear after my communications--HAM/AND. H. A. M. Letters from the vice-president of the Badger Talking Machine Company of Milwaukee are signed JAS/AK. What do you make of that, Watsonius? The following was typed at the end of a letter received t'other day: "HEE/HA." Recurring to the dictaters, letters from the O'Meara Paper company of New York are tagged JEW/EM. Irene, she works for David Meyer, Likes her job, not peeved a bit. But when she ends a letter she Marks it with this sign, DAM/IT. Ferro. * * * Hint to students in the School of journalism: Always begin the description of a tumultuous scene by saying that it is indescribable, and then proceed to describe it until the telegraph editor chokes you off. * * * To our young friend who expects to operate a column: Lay off the item about Miss Hicks entertaining Carrie Dedbeete and Ima Proone; it is phony. But the wheeze about the "eternal revenue collector" is still good, and timely. * * * "I am a cub reporter," writes W. H. D., "and am going to conduct a column in a few weeks, I think." Zazzo? Well, you can't do better than to start with the announcement that Puls & Puls are dentists in Sheboygan. And you might add that if the second Puls is a son the firm should be Puls & Fils. * * *