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The Best Selections from “Hearty Jokes and Drummers Yarns, An Up to Date Collection of Jests, Jokes, and Funny Stories; Laird & Lee Publishers, Chicago; 1896.

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“Laugh and be fat, sir.”

“Mirth is a great physician.”

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Level Headed.

Visitor — Three thousand dollars for the season is a pretty good offer, my friend.

League Umpire (employed last season) — Know it, but you must remember that several games are arranged to be played between the Boston and Chicago nines, and when I think of the Kelly Business, I prefer to do my umpiring just where I am.

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Histrionic Acerbity.

Swell Actor (meeting swell actress at photographer’s) — I know you are after that last one of me, aren’t you, Miss Slasher?”

Swell Actress — You are a perfect mind-reader, Mr. De Bloak. I’ve got to play Desdemona next week, you know, and I want something that will give me a pained expression every time I look at it.

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A Warning.

“Can you diwect me to the Pawk, me good woman?”

“Ter th’ Parruk, is it? Troth, yez wud do well ter kape away from theyre. It’s pitin’ yez in a cage they’ll be.”

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The crematory is the burn from which no traveler returns.

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Enfant Terrible (patting his Uncle Jack’s bald head) — Say, Uncle Jack, is that where you get spanked when you’re naughty?”

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A Spaniard in the first pages of his English grammar, desiring one evening at table to be helped to some boiled tongue, said, “I will thank you, miss, to pass me the language.”

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A correspondent asks the question: “How shall I stuff a deer’s head?” It depends upon the party asked. If she is a rich dear, tell her you love her for herself alone. If she is poor, insist that you would love her just as much as if she were an heiress.

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A trim creature — The milliner.

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How to make a Maltese cross — by stepping on his tail.

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Boss has named his dog, “Wellington,” because of the animal’s proficiency in rending a bone apart.

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Peculiar situations enforce the oppositeness of certain phrases. When you hear a daw sing you spontaneously exclaim, “Shut the daw!”

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A DEATH BLOW. — A cyclone.

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“Good-bye” is the cream of “Ta, ta.”

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A REGULAR SETTLER. — The evening sun.

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It is a wise child that resembles its richest relative.

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When a lady is sewing she is in reality not what she seams.

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A bushel of sand on the sidewalk is worth two in the sugar.

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Old Dick was like his dog, ’twas said,
In every particular,
And upright were the lives they led,
Their ways were pup-and-Dick-ular.

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A man who was at Joliet recently asked one of the prisoners how he came to be there.

“Want,” was the answer.

“How was that pray?”

“Well, I wanted another man’s watch. He wasn’t willing I should have it, and the judge wants me to stay here five years.”

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In the examination of a case for assault and battery, counsel, on cross-examining one of the witnesses, asked him what they had at the first place they stopped? He answered:

“Four glasses of ale.”

“What next?”

“Two glasses of wine.”

“What next?”

“One glass of brandy.”

“What next?”,

“A fight, of course.”

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My Patent Porous Plaster.

I take pleasure in giving to the public a few of the many touching testimonials I have received, concerning the curative qualities of my Allfiredhardtobeat Porous Plaster:




TOP NOTCH, Kan., May 1, 1887.


Dear Sir; I have used your sample plaster with great effect. I was wounded on the small of the reputation during the late war. For over twenty years I have been trying to draw a pension. I have tried the law’s embrocation and other remedies, but never drew a cent of my pension until I applied one of your plasters to my injured reputation. Now I draw my pension regularly every month. It is a great boon.


ABSALOM SWITCHOFF




DANUBE, N. Y., August 12, ’86.


dere Sire oncet I had a red dorg with no hare on hiz back and I wuz advized 2 putt 1 uv yer plasters on hiz back and it wuz sough sucsuksfell that I hayn’t got know dorg butt am happi.


Yers to kermand,
MISTER JOHN BROWN.


PINEVALE, Mass., Sept. 7, ’86.


Dear Sir: I have wanted to open my heart to you for a long time, but haven’t had the courage. My ailment was a dull and aching void in the region of the human affection divine. My front gate hinge gave out last week, and I applied one of your dear, delightful plasters to the seat of trouble. Before night my neighbor, Josiah Allsop, came over and asked me to go to spelling-school. We were married last night.


MRS. AUGUSTA ALLSOP.


MUSHVILLE, La., March 15, ’86.


Dear Sir: Have tried buying lottery tickets for ten years. Last week I drew a giant pumpkin and ten yards of rick-rack at a church fair. Cause — wore one of your Allfiredhardtobeat upon my waterproof smoke house.


K. DePEYSTER.




And now I hope the good public will please relieve me of the rest of my plasters. I send a coroner’s certificate and life insurance policy with each plaster.


H. S. KELLER.

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Something Like a Love!

“Amelia, for thee — yes, at thy command, I’d tear this eternal firmament in a thousand fragments; I’d gather the stars one by one as they tumble from the regions of ethereal space, and put them in my trousers pocket; I’d pluck the sun, that Oriental god of day, that traverses the blue arch of heaven in such majestic splendor — I’d tear him from the sky, and quench his bright effulgence in the fountain of my eternal love for thee!”

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Ella says that she loves the bustle in a large city. It does look rather ridiculous in the country, that’s a fact.

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Trust him little who praises all; him less who censures all, and him least who is indifferent to all. In fact, don’t trust anybody if you can get ready money.

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The recent failure of a glue factory has cast a gluem over the community. The extraordinary pressure on the humor market, and the small supply above ground just now, is our only excuse for this.

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In a prize fight in New York the other day a woman knocked a man out in four rounds. Come to think of it, women ought to be very lively sparrers. The exercise of putting up the back hair and fastening skirts develops all the muscles of the arms.

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A Case of Kleptomania.

Once when Mr. Justice Byles was trying a prisoner for stealing, a medical witness was called, who said that in his opinion the accused was suffering from kleptomania, “and your lordship of course know what that is.” “Yes,” said Byles, quietly, “it is what I am sent here to cure.”

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In France, love is a comedy; in England, a tragedy; in Italy, an opera; in Germany, a melodrama; in America, a business affair.

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“There is more pleasure in giving than receiving,” was the proverb that a mother was trying to instill into a youthful mind. “That’s true about castor oil, mother,” was the answer she got.

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“Jack, please don’t. You muss my hair.” But Jack kept right on, on the ground that if he mussed he must.

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“He that loves noise must buy a pig,” says Spanish proverb. In most cases, however, a baby will answer just as well.

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A Liverpool paper asked: “Is there a wife in the city to-day who makes her husband’s shirts?” The following answer was received by return mail: “I do, but he won’t wear ’em.”

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English Tourist — Aw, yaas, I acknowledge the beauty of American women; but you all lack tact, don’t ye know? American Girl — Possibly. “Aw, yaas; you have not the finesse of European ladies, don’t you know.” “Have you noticed such a lack in me?” “Aw, yaas.” “Then I must confess myself beaten. I thought I was acting as if I enjoyed myself.”

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Sutherland Edwards has published a novel called “What is a Girl to Do?” That depends somewhat. If she wants to climb over a fence, she is to look cautiously in every direction, gather her skirts in one hand, then change her mind and crawl under.

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THE FATE OF ST. LOUIS DRUMMERS.

Some drummers were sitting about the Palmer House rotunda the other night swapping chestnuts when a local man “roasted” the following: A Chicago drummer sold his last bill of goods, died, and went to the infernal regions. There he was shown about the place by Lucifer himself. He was shown the pits of molten lead for New York drummers, and the sulphur caves designed for the torture of Minneapolis drummers, and the lake of fire awaiting his own clan. Then he was taken to a room of great heat, where a number of drummers were suspended by the neck. “This,” said Lucifer, “is the drying-room.” “The drying-room?” asked the drummer. “Yes,” responded the other; “these are St. Louis drummers. They are too green to burn at first, so we hang them up to dry.”

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Host — “Did you notice my servant’s diamonds? What do you think of that?”

Guest — “Yes, I noticed them. I think if the diamonds are all right, the girl is not all right, and vice versa.”

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A Reminder

Barber (shaving youth) — Do you know, sir, this reminds me of the story I was reading to-day.

Youth — “No, you don’t say so! What was the story?

Barber — Hunted Down.

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The collector at Bombay has among his curiosities a Chinese god marked “Heathen idol,” and next to it a sovereign marked “Christian idol.”

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The literary style of asking for a plate of ham at the Savage Club Saturday dinner is, “I’ll thank you for an elegant extract from Bacon.”

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“That is rather a shabby pair of trousers you have on for a man of your position.”

“Yes, sir; but clothes do not make the man. What if my trousers are shabby and worn, sir! They cover a warm heart, sir.”

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Affable Spectator — Isn’t it exhilarating to see those skaters enjoying themselves so much?

Silent Stranger — I’m deaf as a post, can’t hear a word you say.

Affable Spectator — Indeed! how did it happen?

Silent Stranger — Fell on the ice when a boy, and burst my ear-drums.

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How to put away jellies so that they will not get mouldy? — Why, leave the pantry-door open, and if there are any children in the house they’ll solve the problem for you in five minutes.

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The deacon’s wife wanted to jot down the text, and leaning over to her scapegrace nephew, she whispered: “Have you any cards about you?” “You can’t play in church,” was the solemn, reproving answer, and the good woman was so flustrated that she forgot her text.

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About Josiah

There lived a chap whose only aim
    Was to be called a flyer:
An empty-headed ass — his name
    Was to be brief, Josier.


He once engaged a maid to court,
    And costly things he’d buy her;
Which she pronounced “delightful sport,”
    Which much upset Jo’s-sire.


For he declared it was a sin
    Such costly things to buy her;
“I’ll not supply you with the tin,”
    Thereat arose Jo’s-ire.


But useless ’twas to grow enraged
    When gifts he did deny her,
She cried, “No longer we’re engaged,”
    His name was then Jo-sigher.


Day after day of love denied,
    He ambled sadly by her;
His speeches would the maid deride,
    For wealthier Jos-eye her.


At last one day he took his gun
    And cried, “Farewell, Marier;
Ah, ha!” he yelled, “this life is done,”
    Fizz, bang! Oh, ho, Jo’s-higher.



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Medical Professor — What would you do in case you happened to discover that there was still life in a body that you were dissecting?

Student — If the life was very still, sir, I should proceed.

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Fogg — What do you think of Dole?

Bogg — I think he is one of the biggest liars I ever knew.

Fogg — Of course. He said I was a fool the other day.

Bogg — Indeed! Well, I may have misjudged him.

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A Shining Star.

“Oh, Miss,” said the love-sick swain, “if I were but yon bright star, how brightly I would shine for you.” “What a pity,” said she, musingly, “that you can’t shine here.” He went out directly.

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A pair of slippers — Two eels.

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Mistress (to new servant): We have breakfast generally about eight o’clock.

New servant — Well, mum, if I ain’t down to it, don’t wait.

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First Connoisseur — There is a certain ingenuousness about the picture that I admire exceedingly.

Second Connoisseur — It is certainly artless, if that’s what you mean.

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“I wonder why Miss Highflier sings in such a falsetto voice,” remarked Mrs. S. “It’s positively painful to hear her screech.” “I can’t imagine,” replied Sarcasticus, “perhaps she has falsetto teeth.”

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After the Accident.

She — Were you hurt much? Mr. De D. — Aw, Miss Claiwa, I was knocked senseless, don’t you know. She — O, I’m so glad you escaped; they told me you had been injured.

Mr. De D. wonders what she meant.

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An editor lost his best gold pen and holder a few days ago. After making a thorough search all over the office, and accusing a dozen people of its theft, he happened to remember where he last placed it, and, bending down the top of his ear, discovered no less than fourteen penholders of various styles which he had lost during the past two years.

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“Does this razor go easy?” asked a barber of a victim who was writhing under a clumsy instrument.

“Well,” replied the poor fellow, “that depends upon what you call the operation. If you are skinning me it goes tolerably easy; but if you are shaving, it goes rather hard.”

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“See here, doctor,” said a patient, “isn’t it time you physicians came down a little in your price? It makes a great deal of difference, you know, when a fellow has been sick, how much he has to pay when he gets well.” “I’ll see that it makes no difference to you,” grimly responded the doctor.

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A SOFT ANSWER.

First Boarder— (To new waitress) “So you are the new girl, are you? and what are we to call you?”

Waitress — “Pearl, sir.”

Smart Boarder — “Are you the Pearl of great price?”

Waitress — “No, sir; I am the Pearl that was cast before the swine.

Silence only broken by the buzzing of flies in the milk pitcher.

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HE WAS A GOOD ONE.

A king’s jester one day found his majesty bent over the washbowl, engaged in his morning ablutions. In a spirit of fun the jester gave the king a resounding slap on the most exposed part of his sacred person. Deeply enraged, his majesty ordered the instant execution of the audacious joker, but finally consented to pardon him, if he should make an apology more outrageous than the original insult. The condemned humorist thought a moment, and offered his apology: “Your Majesty will forgive me; I did not know it was you. I thought it was the Queen.”

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Good Reasons.

Bagley — Bailey, you have a general reputation for talking to yourself in the street.

Bailey — Yes, you see I like to talk to a sensible man, and I like to hear a sensible man talk.

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Equine Rectitude

Stout Lady — “I’ll give you a dollar if you get me to the depot in ten minutes.”

Hackman — “Sorry I can’t oblige you, ma’am. You might corrupt me, but you can’t bribe that horse.”

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SLIGHTLY MIXED

Smart Boy — “Say, mister, you’ve got your saddle on wrong.”

Gentleman from the country — (Indignantly) “Guess you don’t know which way I’m goin’, smartee!”

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Reporter (to minister) — That was a very fine extempore sermon, sir.

Minister — Ah, glad you liked it. I have the manuscript at home if you wish to print it.

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Commercial Drummer to Chambermaid, on doorstep — “Now, my pretty maid, as you say there is no one at home, and my hands are full, you have a rare chance to take advantage of an unprotected man, and steal a sugarplum from my rosy lips."




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