Sing a song of springtime, things begin to grow;
Four and twenty bluebirds darting to and fro;
When the morning opened the birds began to sing.
Wasn't that a pretty day to set before a king!
The King was on the golf links, chopping up the ground;
The Queen was in the garden, planting seeds around.
When the King returned, after many wasted hours,
"Don't ever say," the Queen exclaimed, "that you are fond of flowers."
* * *
Mike Neckyoke drives a taxi in Rhinelander, Wis., and you have only one
guess at what he used to drive.
* * *
From Philadelphia comes word of the nuptials of Mr. Tunis and Miss
Fisch. Tunis, we leapingly conclude, is the masculine form!
* * *
We have the card of another chimney sweep, who is "sole agent for wind
in chimneys and furnaces." His name is MacDraft, which may be another
nom de flume.
* * *
The anti-fat brigade may be intrigued to learn that Mr. George Squibb of
Wareham, Eng., sought death in the sea at Swanage, but was unable to
stay under the water because of his corpulence.
* * *
Not long ago a mule broke a leg by kicking a man in the head, and this
week a horse broke a leg in the same way; in each case the man was not
seriously injured. Is this merely luck, or is evolution modifying the
human coco?
* * *
More building is the solution of the unemployment problem. The
unemployed are never so occupied and contented as when watching the
construction of a sky-scraper.
* * *
Her publishers having announced that Ellen Glasgow has "gone into
leather," Keith Preston explains that going into leather is "like
receiving the accolade, taking the veil, or joining the American Academy
of Arts and Letters." And we suppose that when one goes into ooze
leather, or is padded, one may be said to be fini.
* * *