My Dear Son—As this is the fourth leg you have lost (according to your
letters), you ought to be accustomed to it by this time. Try and hobble
along on any others you may have left.
* * * * *
She had been hoping against hope that Bill would get leave of absence
so they could spend their wedding anniversary together. But, alas! he
was unsuccessful in his application. Knowing how disappointed his wife
would be he sent an order to a local store for a treadle sewing machine,
knowing that would be her choice of a present.
The crate arrived before Bill’s letter of explanation, and on examining
it the good lady gave a loud scream, and seizing a hatchet, proceeded to
open it.
Why, what’s the matter, Mrs. Smith? cried a neighbor, who happened to be
present.
Pale and faint, Mrs. Smith pointed to an inscription on the crate. It
read—
Bill inside!
* * * * *
Rear Admiral Osterhaus, at a luncheon in New York, said of a naval
disappointment.
It was as disappointing as absent-minded Ibsen’s Christmas dinner.
Ibsen, you know, ran absent-mindedly one Christmas night into the
restaurant of a railway station and asked—
Look here, waiter, did you say I had twenty minutes to wait or that it
was twenty minutes to eight?