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Newspaper Page Text
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They were trying an Irishman
charged with a petty offence in an
Oklahoma town, when the judge
, "Have you any one in court who
will vouch for your good character?"
"Yis, your honor," quickly replied
the Celt; "there's the sheriff there."
Whereupon the sheriff evinced
signs of great amazement. "Why,
your honor;" declared he, "I don't
even know the man."
- "Observe, your honor," said the
Irishman, triumphantly, "observe
that I've lived in the country for over
Ltwelve years and the sheriff doesn't
know me yitl Ain't that a character
-, o o
The happy pair had just become
.engaged. "What joy it 'will be," she
exclaimed, "for me to share all your
griefs and sorrows!" "But, darling,"
-.he protested, "I have none." "No,"
she answered, "but when we are mar
ried jou will have!"
WAS USED TO IT
A gentleman took a country friend
to the opera one pight to hear the
"Meistersinger" performed. He was
very anxious to see the effect of
Wagner's glorious music on the coun
tryman, and watched htm keenly dur
ing the rendering of the overture,
which, grand as ft is, is a little noisy,
more especially when the bang of the
drums and the crash of the cymbals
occur at intervals.
But the countryman's face remain
ed absolutely unmoved. At last the
gentleman could bear his friend's in
difference no longer.
"Doesn't this glorious, volume of
sound affect you?" he said.
"Oh, not in the least," was the calm
reply. "You forget I am a boiler
maker." o o
At a fishing contest in which about
two dozen fishermen were taking
part one of them had brought with
him a stone jar containing beer. The
contest had been in progress an hour
when the competitor with the beer,
wishing to ask a friend who sat ai
the extreme end of the line of con
testants to have a drink, called a
boy and 'told him to take the jar to
Mr. Robinson, with the request that
he should "have a pulL" The boy
took the jar, and after a long time
returned with it quite empty.
"Why, whece's' all-fche beer gone?"
asked the man who had sent him.
"Please, sir," said the lad, "they
was all of them Mr. Robinsons when
A woman was complaining to her -dairyman
about the quality of his
milk. "Short of grass feed, mum,"
said the milkman. "Bless you, these
cows of mine are just as sorry about
it as I am. I often stands and watches
'em cryin'. You don't believe it?"
"Oh, yes, I believe it," said the cus
tomer, dryly; "but I wish in future
you'd see that they don't drop thei
tears into our can."