Pasture Pot Pourri
Reading edition
I didn’t like her apartment so I knocked her flat.
A parson in London, England, has been unfrocked for kissing a servant girl. This smacks of intolerance.
Give It Up
If big feet, knock-knees and bow legs won’t make a girl wear long skirts, what chance has modesty?
An Ambition
I’ve mortgaged the house and mortgaged the cow,
And mortgaged the things that are,
And all the things I expect to have,
To purchase a motor car.
And when I first roll out in it
My joy will be sublime
If I can run over my brother-in-law
And get away in time.
A man in Brandon, the other day, was fined one thousand dollars for selling a bottle of whiskey, and a man in Humboldt, found guilty of seduction, was let off on suspended sentence. Uplift is making great advances.
Clothing dealers think that it’s all over with the overall.
The man who does not possess a private cellar is in a fair way to possess a private cell.
Bohemia! Bohemia! The world of hopes and fears, Of themes and dreams and cigarettes, free lunches, beers and tears.
A recruiting officer says soldiers make good husbands because all they want is plenty to eat and beans once a week. Hm! And we imagined beans were something to eat.
A Good Excuse
Flooterpush gazed sadly upon Jane Emily the handmaiden.
“Jane Emily,” said he, severely pointing to a half-empty bottle of the fluid which cheers and occasionally inebriates, “somebody’s been at this whiskey.”
“Well, I’ve never touched your whiskey,” retorted the girl.
“Are you sure, Jane Emily?”
“Sure! O’ course I’m sure! Why, the blessed cork wouldn’t come out!”
My Hosiery, My Hosiery
Silk stockings coming down, is the joyful scream that hits up from the headlines.
’Smatter, garters going up?
See where the girls are putting wings on their slippers. That ought to speed up the high flyers.