I hold every man a debtor to his profession.--_Bacon_.
"The deer's a mighty useful beast From Petersburg to Tennyson For while he lives he lopes around And when he's dead he's venison."
A young theologian named Fiddle Refused to accept his degree; "For," said he, "'tis enough to be Fiddle, Without being Fiddle D.D."
"I am so exasperated! I attended the meeting of the Social Equality League, and my parlor-maid presided, and she had the audacity to call me to order three times."--_M. L. Hayward_.
HOSPITAL PHYSICIAN--"Which ward do you wish to be taken to? A pay ward or a--"
MALONEY--"Iny of thim, Doc, thot's safely Dimocratic."
Our young hopeful came running into the house. His suit was dusty, and there was a bump on his small brow. But a gleam was in his eye, and he held out a baby tooth.
"How did you pull it?" demanded his mother.
"Oh," he said bravely, "it was easy enough. I just fell down, and the whole world came up and pushed it out."
The dentist is one who pulls out the teeth of others to obtain employment for his own.
One day little Flora was taken to have an aching tooth removed. That night, while she was saying her prayers, her mother was surprised to hear her say: "And forgive us our debts as we forgive our dentists."--_Everybody's_.
One said a tooth drawer was a kind of unconscionable trade, because his trade was nothing else but to take away those things whereby every man gets his living.--_Haglitt_.
A popular soprano is said to have a voice of fine timbre, a willowy figure, cherry lips, chestnut hair, and hazel eyes. She must have been raised in the lumber regions.--_Ella Hutchison Ellwanger_.
Harold watched his mother as she folded up an intricate piece of lace she had just crocheted.
"Where did you get the pattern, Mamma?" he questioned.
"Does your head feel better now, Mamma?" he asked anxiously.--_C. Hilton Turvey_.
A Washington car conductor, born in London and still a cockney, has succeeded in extracting thrills from the alphabet--imparting excitement to the names of the national capitol's streets. On a recent Sunday morning he was calling the streets thus:
At this point three prim ladies picked up their prayer-books and left the car.--_Lippincott's Magazine_.
Andrew Lang once invited a friend to dinner when he was staying in Marlowe's road, Earl's Court, a street away at the end of that long Cromwell road, which seems to go on forever. The guest was not very sure how to get there, so Lang explained: