Everybody gave the young couple the horse-laugh, but the young fellow took the old arm-chair home and put it in the house along with the glass eye and the corker. A few days after that they sat down to the breakfast-table—the fellow, the glass eye, the arm-chair and the corker—and while sitting at breakfast, talking over their cocoa, the husband said something over his cocoa, and then the wife said something over her cocoa, and they got into an argument over their cocoa, and finally he picked up the old arm-chair, over his cocoa, and passed it to his wife, over her cocoa, and broke it all to pieces—not the cocoa, but the old arm-chair. The old arm-chair was smashed all to pieces and out rolled fifteen million dollars in gold bull-con—bull-coin—gold bullion. You see, this wise old lady knew that the husband would break the old chair over his wife’s cocoa when he found she had a—— [Illustration: Out rolled fifteen million dollars in gold ] Well, the result was a divorce, and naturally the fellow that married the remnant—the girl—came to me, as I had been present at the execution—at the wedding—and he naturally looked upon me as a confidence man—as a confidant—and he asked me my advice. You see the corker’s brother, a big fellow that weighed about two hundred and looked it, had taken offense at the sister’s husband talking about family secrets and was out looking for trouble. So when the husband came to me for advice I told him to challenge the brother to a duel. He said he didn’t know anything about a duel. So I told him to go get a pair of gloves, go up to the brother and slap him in the face with the gloves. The next day the young fellow got a pair of gloves, went up to the big brother and slapped him in the face with the gloves. Then he came back to report to me. I says: “Well, did you get the gloves?” He says: “Yes.” I says: “What did you do after you got the gloves?” He says: “I did just what you told me to do. I took the gloves in my hand and went up to the big guy and slapped him in the face with the gloves.” I says: “Well, what did he do?” He says: “He knocked me down and took the gloves away from me.” [Illustration] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ WOULDN’T GOLF DIALECT DO? You’ve heard about the deacon, haven’t you? Deacon Jones? No? Well, well! I thought you had. The deacon went up to our minister one Sunday afternoon and told him he was looking for advice. The reverend gentleman desired to know on what particular subject he required advice. “I’ve taken to playing golf,” explained the other, “and I—er—I find it difficult to restrain—er——” “Ah, I see what you mean,” said the minister—“bad language.” “Exactly,” replied the pillar of the church. “Well, how would it be to put a stone in your pocket every time you found yourself using a wrong word, just as a reminder, you know?” “The very thing!” exclaimed the deacon; “thank you so much!” and departed.