More Toasts Part 161

PROFANITY

When father came home to dinner he observed a vacant chair at the table. "Where's the boy?" he asked, nodding to the chair.

"Harry is up-stairs," came in a tone of painful precision from the mother.

"I hope he is not sick."

There was an anxious pause. "No, he is not sick," continued the mother. "It grieves me to say, Richard, that our son, your son, has been heard swearing on the street. I heard him myself."

"Swearing!" exclaimed the father. "I'll teach him to swear!"

And with that the angry parent started up-stairs in the dark. Half-way up he stumbled and came down with his chin on the top step.

When the confusion had subsided Harry's mother was heard saying from the hallway: "That will do, Richard, dear. You have given him enough for one lesson."

Sometime ago a pious young clerical prevailed on a rather profane aviator to take him for a flight. After attaining several thousand feet the motor suddenly stopped, revealing to the uttermost the aviator's gift of profanity.

The alarmed pastor excitedly demanded if there was any danger. The pilot replied sarcastically that there would be prayer instead of profanity if there was any danger.

The motor "cut in" again and the flight continued. Suddenly the motor stopped again and notwithstanding the pilot's efforts, accompanied by the usual lurid language, he was forced to alight. Just as he flattened out for his landing, the pilot was disconcerted by hearing the parson exclaim in fervid tones: "Thank G.o.d the aviator is still swearing."

Small Ann's mother had been disturbed to hear her using the word "devil." "My dear," said she, "that is a word we do _not_ use in polite society, and I never want to hear you say it again."

She noticed that her admonition was carefully heeded. Then on Sunday evening, about two weeks later, the mother inquired what the day's lesson had been about. "Why, mother," was Ann's answer, "it was about when our Lord was tempted by the--by--by--the--the _gentleman that keeps h.e.l.l!_"

Young William was evincing much interest in the evening paper, but finally a puzzled look came over his countenance.

"Mother," said he, finally, "what does D--d stand for?"

"Doctor of Divinity, my son. Don't they teach you the common abbreviations in school?"

"Sure; but that don't seem to sound right here."

"Read it out aloud."

"WITNESS: I heard the defendant say, I'll make you suffer for this.

I'll be doctor of divinity if I don't!'"

"Say, Sam, why do you-all carry that parrot around with you on the wagon?"

"Well, yo' see, boss, I'se a membah of the chu'ch, but de mule ain't, so I hauls the pa'ot to fu'nish the cussin' fo' de mule."

FATHER--"I'm ashamed to see you crying because a bee stung you. Act like a man."

BOBBIE--"Y-yes, and th-then you-you'd gim-me a li-lickin', like you s-said y-you would i-if yon ever h-heard m-me usin' that k-kind of l-language."

PROFESSIONS

An ambitious young man went to a university professor and said: "Sir, I desire a course of training which will fit me to become the superintendent of a great railway system. How much will such a course cost, and how long will it take?"

"Young man," replied the professor, "such a course would cost you twenty thousand dollars, and require twenty years of your time. But, on the other hand, by spending three hundred dollars of your money and three months of your time you may be elected to Congress. Once there you will feel yourself competent to direct not one but all the great railroad systems of our country."

The reform warden always made it a point to give each new arrival a chance to do the work with which he was familiar, if the penitentiary dealt in his line. A tailor named Levinski arrived, and it was ordered that he be employed at that trade, if there was an opening. There wasn't. He was asked if he was adept at anything else. "Yes," he replied, with a smile, "I am a crackerjack traveling salesman."

PROFITEERS

The wicked garage-keeper was trying to figure out his income tax.

"If a man brings his car to me to be repaired, and it costs me sixty cents, and I charge him sixteen dollars, what per cent profit would I be making?" he demanded of his son and heir.

"I'm sure I don't know, pop," answered that young hopeful. "You'll have to get somebody who knows the rules of grand larceny to tell you that. The rules for percentage wouldn't cover it!"

"Say, Cy, I jest found out what a rube is."

"Thet so, Hiram? What is it?"

"Why, it's one o' them forty-one hour, ninety-five dollar a week labor guys that thinks a farmer is goin' to sell him food cheap."

Old Omar doubtless had us in mind when he spoke of the profit's paradise to come.

Another reason why pickpockets seem to be on the increase may be because profiteering isn't what it was a few months ago.

PROGRESS

I was explaining the other day, to a member of our organization, that there was no such thing as "standing still" in this world--that we lost ground immediately we ceased to make progress. Quick as a flash he put my thought in a few words when he remarked, "We're either coming or going." That's it exactly. When we do not improve, learn, develop old ideas or find new ones--we go backwards. And you and I know how fast we go, when there's no driving power to keep us going forward.--_E. M. Statler_.