“Don’t yo’ all know it’s wrong to shoot craps?” piped the preacher as he
discovered a portion of his congregation pursuing the Goddess of Chance.
“Yas, suh,” admitted one parishioner, languidly, “an’ bulieve me, Ah’s
payin’ fo’ mah sins.”
* * * * *
_A Tiresome Job_
(From Minneapolis Journal)
LOOK—I must sell my shoe hospital, as I am getting tired of sitting.
6383, Journal.
* * * * *
“You’re a stingy old tight wad, Bill.”
“How do you make that out, Joe?”
“Why I heard your wife say that if you owned the Atlantic Ocean you
wouldn’t even give a clam a gargle.”
* * * * *