TO MONTHLY STATEMENTS OF INDEBTEDNESS.

Evening Post, Volume XCVI, Issue 42, 17 August 1918, Page 11

TO MONTHLY STATEMENTS OF INDEBTEDNESS.

(By a Miserable Wretch.) Rise on, thou bills, rise on! To heights ne'er reached before Rise on! What though my income will not soar? What though I've no less mouths to feed? What though I have the same old need Of clothes and rent and books to read? Never you mind! Rise on! Rise on, thou bills, rise on! Bejond the bounds of sight Rise on! It's true that I can't join your flight; It's true that I. must feed the fount Upon whose golden stream, you mount; But plea-se don't stop on my account; Never you mind! Rise on! ' (They rise on.) -Puck. We hoped to get some coal or coke. Alas, our hopes went up in smoke. "Well, wifie, to-day's my birthdaj." "Oh, goody—goody! Can I have a new hat, dear?" Funeral Director: Are you a mourner? Jones: Me? No. I guess I'm the only chap ho didn't owe money to. "What do you think of Scribbler's new story, 'The Boundary Line'?" "It is well named, anyway, for it's the limit.'^ Sergeant: A lot o£ those shoes are too small for our men, general. Shall we order new ones? General: Certainly not! Cut down the solctiers' feet. ' Reginald: I once proposed to a girl in. a conservatory. Percy: With what result? Reginald: A lot of expensive plants were nipped by the frost! "What is tho secret of Wvse's success as a bill collector?" "When a debtor tolls him to call next day at o'clock he calls at 3 o'clock an 3 catches him in." I "Is my son getting well grounded in the ! classics ?" asked a millionaire. "I would put it even stronger than that," replied the private tutor. "I may say that he is actually stranded on them!" Wife: I wish you had a nice place, where we could give a dance. Husband: Just for the pleasure of inviting some of your friends, eh? Wife: Yes; and the pleasure of not inviting some.

She: What an atrocious nocktie! I wouldn't trust you to select anything, you have co little taste. He (chuckling): You forget that I selected you, my dear. She: You think you did, but you didn't, really.

"Father," Baid an enquiring youth, "when a hen sits on an egg for three ■weeks and it don't hatoh, is the egg* spoiled?" "As an article of diet, my 6on, it is henceforth a failure, but for political purposes it has its uses."

Friend of the Family (after hearing of the engagement).—"So you're losing another daughter, Mr. Weloff?" Mr. Weloff—"Well, I'm not 6ure. I don't know how it will turn out, but it rather strikes me, from what I hear about the young man, that I'm taking on another son."