Bring me a dry Martini, waiter, and chase it with something that’s wet. I went to a pink tea yesterday and I haven’t got over it yet. I heard they’ve discovered the North Pole, waiter, Gee, I wish I had it here now, They couldn’t come any too cold for me to put on my aching brow.
’Twas a stormy night at sea, waiter, and the waves ran mountains high, Personally, I was souzed to the gills and today I am awfully dry. Yes, ’twas a frightful night on the sea, and many are missing, I think, But as near as I can remember, I never missed a drink.
The one in blue got my spark, waiter, her side pal got my clock. Oh, I don’t want to know the time, waiter, just lead me down to the dock, Yes, lead me down to the dock, waiter, for a watery grave I pine, The place for a man that’s pickled is over his head in the brine.
Just tell them I am at the “Murray” cure, waiter, that I died as a hero should; Up to my neck in the cold old suds, guaranteed drawn from the wood. Say, after I’ve sank in the deep, waiter, you’ll do me one favor, I hope, Tell ’em if I blow up bubbles that ’twasn’t from eating soap.
Who puts me in my little bed And spanks me till my face is red? My Mother.
All to myself I think of you— Think of the things we used to do, Think of the things we used to say, Think of each happy yesterday; Sometimes I sigh and sometimes I smile, But I keep each olden, golden while All to myself.
Brevity is the sole of wit, and the sole charm of a maiden’s skirt.
It’s the first straw hat which shows how the wind blows.
I suppose the maid does all the hard work?
If you want to see something swell, put a sponge in water.
If you were with me in my new Cadillac On a road with no trolley about it, A long way from town, would you start to walk back? Maybe you would—but I doubt it.
While we live, let’s live in clover, For when we’re dead, we’re dead all over.
Wallace Jackson called on Miss Jennie Barnett as usual.
It is refreshing to know that the woman who was brought up for biting a man in self defense has been bound over to keep the piece.
Washington woman wants the Congress to impose a tax upon bachelors varying from one dollar a year for men from 21 to 24 to $5 for men of 65 or over. She should reverse her scale and tax the bachelors while they are useful. A bachelor of 65 is not worth taxing—from a woman’s standpoint.