ALLEGED HUMOUR.

Evening Post, Volume LXXV, Issue 122, 23 May 1908, Page 11

ALLEGED HUMOUR.

LITTLE MR. LITTLE. Little Mr. Little is a timid' little man, Whose little lifo is ordered on a very modest plan. He owns a little cottage, he runs a little shop, He hasn't any hankering to clamber to the top. He makes a little profit on the goods he has to sell, And when he seeks his little bed he- sleeps exceeding well. Little Mr. Little is a man you'd never note, His hat is five and ' something, and he wears a rusty coat. | The trolly rush uppete him, he never gets a seat, And half the leading men in town have trodden on his feet. But little children love him, though his clothes aro out of style, And dogs run out to meet him and wag their tails and s.-o^ile. Of learning ho has nothing, of talent not a spark, Ho doesn't own one quality commanding of remark With mind too small for envy or pride or guile or greed, This little Mr. Little is a funny sort, in-, deed / And yet the best of friends he has! In every block are scores, For little Mr. Little's heart is big as all outdoors. Newark Evening News. THE HOTTENTOT TOT. If a Hottentot taught a Hottentot tot To tot ere the tot could totter Ought the Hottentot tot To be taught to say "aught" Or "naught" or what ought to be taught her? Or— If to hoot and toot a Hottentot tot Be taught by a Hottentot tooter, Should the tootor get hot if tho Hottentot tot Hoot and toot at the Hottentot tutor? — Anon. THE FINAL STATION. Bobby is the son of a Methodist minister anu has had the experience of "moving" four times in the space of his eight years' lifo. He disapproves strongly of tho itinerant system, which is the bane of the Methodist clergy. Some time ago an elderly minister was visiting Bobby's father, and directed his attention to tho small boy, asking him many questions of a more or less theological nature. Finally the course of tho conversation turned to heaven, and Bobby was asked concerning the abode of the blest. "Yes," said the youngster, with a sigh of deep weariness, "I know. It's the last place we're going to move to." MR. DOOLEY ON PHILOSOPHERS. "What is a philosopher, says ye? A philosopher, Hinnissy, is a man that is thryin' to make a livin' be thinkin' about things that no man can think about without tho to' top iv his head blowin' off. It's a fjood thing they -have an exhaust valve. If they cudden't talk fhey'd surely explode, with gr-reat damage to surroundin' thought. But, thank tho Lord, whin they get to a point whin they- can think no longer without crackin', they blow out in pothry. Pothry id a kind iv headache cure f'd a philosopher. "Ye niver heerd iv a philosopher? Iv corse yo didn't. How shud yo? Nobody iver thought 'v calling in a philosopher whm th baby had th' croup, or th' stovepipo needed to be took down an' cleaned. If ye were in disthress iv mind yo wouldn't call up four-illevon-forty-four, Cambridge, Mass., an' ask if Doctor James was there in' wud ho como on an' locfe ye over. No sir But ye're as gr-reat a philosopher as Willum James. Ye know, f'r instance, that if ye get ye'er feet wet yell have a cold in ye'or head. It is a curyous phenomenon. Yo ought to have tV cold in yo er ankles-, but instead iv that it's in ye er nosc\ But ye don't thrry to find out why this here uncanny misfortune has happened to ye. Ye take a dose of rock an. rye, which affects ivryhody else's nose but ye er own, an' wrap up all ,iv ye'ersilf but ye'er noso in blankets, aii' th' next day ye'er noso is well. .Ye'or own philosophy which yo use ivry day f'r silfprotection tells ye that if ye 'don't want a cold in th' head yell keep yo'er feet dhry.' But if ye come around an' told me about this r.a something wondherful, if isn't a philosopher I'd be callin' yo." M'ADOO AND. THE ORACLE. "Once." said William M'Adoo. former assistant secretary of the navy and former police commissioner of Now York, "when I was younger, I went up-Stato in New York to make a political speech. Mrs.' M Ado 6 was with me. Wo- arrived in Albany on a chill, rainy, miserable October afternoon. It was cheerless at the hotel, cheerless in the city, and cheerless everywhere. Mrs. M'Adoo had a cold. I had a rold. The outlook for the meeting was not good , "We went out for a walk, despite the tain. We walked through the park, Mrs. the while reading me a lecture on the futility of politics, which I could not, answer, for what she Eaid was true. Just as she reached her peroration in which sho was telling me what an asa I was for remaining in politics or having anything to do with that pursuit, w© came on a. weighing machine. "It was one of those weighing machines that plays music, weighs you, and drops out a card telling your fortune — all for a. nickel. As Mrs. M'Adoo was getting to her closing and unanswerable sentences I stepped on the machine, dropped in my nickel, heard the music tinkle, and waited for the machine to deliver the card with my fortune. /"The machine clucked. The card came out, just bb Mrs. M'Adoo finished, in ' a , grand burst of declamation. I read the card. It said : 'Do not be discouraged, lour Becond marriage will bo happier than your first.' " ACTING THE PART. It is a natural instinct with honeymoon couples to shun publicity. • (< "Now, Henry," said one happy bride, 'I want you to understand distinctly that I do not wish to be taken for a bride. I am going to act exactly as if I were an old married woman, and I insist that you behave just like all old married men do." She the.v retired to dress for an evening walk. When she came down, however, Henry was nowhere to be seen. She sought for him, weeping, for two hours. Then he returned with some new-found friends. He had been ( to a whist party, and he met his grief-stricken bride with tffe hilarious question, "Well, ain't I doing tho married man like a daisy?" She never referred to the subject again, and everybody knew after that that they had just been married. Mistress (severely)— lf such a thing otecurs again, Norah, I shall have to get another servant. Norah — I wish yer would. There's quite enough work for two of us. The Artist — So you can't we my sketches, then. Would you mind tolling me what you think of them? The Editor— l can't now, there are some ladies in the next-rOom. "You must have a good appetite," remarked the thin man, enviously. "What do you take for it!" "In all my experience," replied tho plump one, "I have found nothing more suitable than food." "Do you • understand the language of stamps/" asked the friend of the man who was addressing an envelope. "No. Why?" "Because you stuck the stamp on that letter" upside down, and that means T hate you.'" "Humph! I don't think I'll change it. This letter is to one of my creditors." "Of all the men in our shop," began the grumbler, "tho worst luck has como to me" "Ah !" remarked the foreman, with a knowing smile, "the worst has come to I the worst, eh?" I "How did you and your husband discover that you were affinities ?" asked the I pretty young widow. "Heavens! We never did. Wo got married in a decent I way, neithei of of us haying any. reason.