"The judge certainly did soak him," he said. "He sentenced him to
three years and ten days. Now I understand the three years all right;
but what the ten days were for I'd like to know?"
"That was the war-tax," said a quiet citizen who got abroad at the
tenth floor.
MRS. CASEY--"An' phwat are yez doin' wid thot incoom-tax paper,
Casey?"
CASEY--"Oi'm thryin' to figger out how much money Oi save by not
havin' anny."--_Life_.
The Tax? No wonder Men abhor it!
You raise a Crop, they fine you for it!
TEACHERS
FATHER (meaningly)--"Who is the laziest member of your class, Tommy?"
TOMMY--"I don't know, pa."
FATHER--"I should think you should know. When all the others are
industriously studying or writing their lessons, who is it sits idly
in his seat and watches the rest, instead of working himself?"
TOMMY--"The teacher."
The Literary Digest offers each week a prize of fifty dollars for the
best argument in compact form for better salaries for teachers. The
editor of The Reporter humbly submits to the editor of The Digest this
bit of pathos:
"What shape, madam, was the pocketbook you lost?"
"Flat. I'm a teacher."
The kindergarten had been studying the wind all week--its power,
effects, etc.
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