_Dear Sir_: Seeing as you say how fish is good for the brains, what kind of fish shall I eat?
_Dear Miss_: Judging from the composition of your letter I should advise you to eat a whale.
A hungry customer seated himself at a table in a quick-lunch restaurant and ordered a chicken pie. When it arrived he raised the lid and sat gazing at the contents intently for a while. Finally he called the waiter.
"Look here, Sam," he said, "what did I order?"
"Chicken pie, you black rascal!" the customer replied. "Chicken pie? Why, there's not a piece of chicken in it, and never was."
"Dat's right, boss--dey ain't no chicken in it."
"Then why do you call it chicken pie? I never heard of such a thing."
"Dat's all right, boss. Dey don't have to be no chicken in a chicken pie. Dey ain't no dog in a dog biscuit, is dey?"
His FIANCEE--"And he's lost his front teeth."
His MOTHER--"But he didn't drop the ball!"--_Life_.
A boy stood with one foot on the sidewalk and the other on the step of a Ford automobile. A playmate passed him, looked at his position, then sang out: "Hey, Bobbie, have you lost your other skate?"
A farmer noticing a man in automobile garb standing in the road and gazing upward, asked him if he were watching the birds.
"No," he answered, "I was cranking my Ford car and my hand slipped off and the thing got away and went straight up in the air."
A lady in a southern town was approached by her colored maid.
"Well, Jenny?" she asked, seeing that something was in the air.
"Please, Mis' Mary, might I have the aft'noon off three weeks frum Wednesday?" Then, noticing an undecided look in her mistress's face, she added hastily--"I want to go to my finance's fun'ral."
"Goodness me," answered the lady--"Your finance's funeral! Why, you don't know that he's even going to die, let alone the date of his funeral. That is something we can't any of us be sure about--when we are going to die."
"Yes'm," said the girl doubtfully. Then, with a triumphant note in her voice--"I'se sure about him, Mis', 'cos he's goin' to be hung!"
"They tell me you're working 'ard night an' day, Sarah?" her bosom friend Ann said.
"Yes," returned Sarah. "I'm under bonds to keep the peace for pullin' the whiskers out of that old scoundrel of a husban' of mine, and the Magistrate said that if I come afore 'im ag'in, or laid me 'ands on the old man, he'd fine me forty shillin's!"
