Page 2 Advertisements Column 2

Evening Star, Issue 16911, 7 December 1918, Page 2

A «treet preacher was holding forth to a gaping crowd on the terriblo fate of Lot’s wife. Ho was telling them how she had looked around, and in a moment was turned into a pillar of salt. “'Was it not wonderful?” ho exclaimed. “W as 11 n wonderful?” “ Och, ehr.ro, an bogorra! cried Pat, from the outskirts of the crowd, “ I know a far more wonderful woman than that!” “You what?” exclaimed the preacher, aghast. “ Why, there’s Bridget Malone,” Pal rattled on. “h'ha was walkin’ down the street t’other day, an’ she looked round an’ round, an’ then, all at wanst, she turned into a margarine qU “N<>w, boys,” said the teacher in the juvenile Sunday scliool class, “our lesson to-dav teaches us that if wc are good while here on earth, when we die we will go to a place of everlasting bliss. But suppose we are bad. then what will become of us?” “We’ll go to a place of everlasting blister,” promptly answered the small boy at the pedal extremity of the class.