The So-called Human Race Part 47

Sir: A tailor in Denver advertises: "If your clothes don't fit we make them."

W. V. R.

Heard, by R. M., in a department store: Shoe-polish demonstrator: "And if you haven't already ruined your shoes with other cleaners this will do the work."

FAREWELL!

(_By Poeta._)

Comet, Comet, shining bright In the s.p.a.ces of the night, Every hour swinging higher From the Sun of thy desire; Astral vagrant, stellar rover, Dipping under, dipping over Path of Venus, Earth, and Mars Till there's naught beyond but stars; Cutting, in thy lane elliptic, Thro' the plane of the ecliptic, Far beyond pale Neptune's track-- Good-by, Comet! Hurry back!

AN UNCOMMONLY HAPPY THOUGHT.

(_A. J. Balfour, Letter to Mary Gladstone, 1891._)

"It is unfortunate, considering that enthusiasm moves the world, that so few enthusiasts can be trusted to speak the truth."

THE SECOND POST.

[The editor of the Winneconne, Wis., Local to his flock.]

Dear Subscriber: You probably know that the Local editor and his wife have been away from Winneconne most of the time during the last ten months. Every month we expected to get back again. The suspense was somewhat hard. During the meantime Mrs. Flanagan, each week, would worry and talk about the paper as much as ever. The doctor desired to have it off her mind. During the meantime she did not want the plant closed for even a short time. Now it has been decided to take a holiday vacation, during which time Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan will release themselves from all business cares and build up in health. No doubt, you will realize the delicate situation of the affair, and bear with us in the matter until the Local again resumes its regular publication dates, for surely both of us are very much attached to the paper, the town, and its people, and the surrounding country.

M. C. Flanagan.

THE DAY OF "DON'TS."

Thanksgiving was a holiday I welcomed when a boy, But now it is a solemn feast without a jot of joy.

It used to be a pleasure to attack the toothsome turkey, But now when I approach the bird I'm anything but perky.

A mult.i.tude of dismal "Don'ts" impair my appet.i.te; A fear of what may happen me accompanies each bite.

There hovers round this holiday a heavy cloud of dread That never lifts till I am safe, with water-bag, in bed.

I used to drink a gla.s.s of wine, but that is bad, I'm told, So now I ship in water--just as much as I can hold.

To fail to fletcherize my food were fatal, without question; I never touch the stuffing, as it taxes the digestion.

When the lugubrious feast is done I hasten from my chair To open all the windows wide, and let in lots of air; And then I sit around an hour and chew a wad of gum Until the fullness disappears from my distended tum.

That pleasant, dozy feeling I compel myself to shake, For should I venture on a nap I'd never, never wake; And if I sneeze I take alarm and hasten out of doors, To start a circulation in my poison-clotted pores.

The fact that I am still alive is due, I'm glad to say, To heeding all the dinner "Don'ts" that went with yesterday.

It was, from soup to raisins, by and large, and all in all, The solemnest Thanksgiving meal that ever I recall.

A BALANCED TUITION.

Sir: The fourth grade teacher in Roland, Ia., is Viola Grindem.

Fortunately for the kids the high school princ.i.p.al is Cora Clement.

T. B.

"We wish the cooperative factories, a success," says an esteemed contemporary on our left. So do we, with this prediction, that if success is achieved it will be by the same methods that are employed in the iniquitous capitalistic system.

Although the name topic bores us to distinction, as a young lady of our acquaintance puts it, we should feel we were posing if we neglected to find room for the following:

Sir: Deedonk, can you provide a chaise longue in the Romance language department of the Academy for George E. Ahwee of Colon, Panama?

Rusty.

We knew what was meant, and yet it gave us a slight start to read in a Minnesota paper, "Pickle your own feet while they are cheap and clean."

OPINION CONCURRED IN.

Sir: My heart with pleasure filled when I saw that Riquarius quoted it as I always want to do, "with rapture fills." While I realized it is the height of presumption to think I could improve on Wordsworth, don't you agree with me that rapture is more expressive than pleasure?

Jay Aye.

"Rapture" might be preferred for another reason: the accent falls on a stronger syllable. Suppose George Meredith had used "pleasure" in his lines--

"Lasting, too, For souls not lent in usury, The rapture of the forward view."

Every good poet has left lines that could be bettered for another ear.

Probably Wordsworth leads the list.

TRANSCENDENTAL CALM.

Sir: Remember the story about Theodore Parker and Emerson? While they were walking in Concord a Seventh Day Adventist rushed up to them and said, "Gentlemen, the world is coming to an end." Parker said, "That doesn't affect me; I live in Boston." Emerson said, "Very well. I can get along without it."