“Look here,” said he, “I thought you said your husband would see me.”

“He has seen thee,” was the calm reply, “but he did not like thy looks and has gone another way.”

“My wife thinks we run a hospitable house.  What’s your notion of a hospitable house?”

“Oh, for me, I feel that it’s a hospitable house when in the come and go of company enough umbrellas are left to keep it supplied.”

HOSPITALS

A German, whose wife was ill at the Seney Hospital, Brooklyn, called the first evening she was there and inquired how she was getting along.  He was told that she was improving.

Next day he called again, and was told she was still improving.  This went on for some time, each day the report being that his wife was improving.

Finally one day he called and said: 

“How iss my wife?”

“She’s dead.”

He went out and met a friend, and the friend said: 

“Well, how is your wife?”

“She’s dead”

“Ooh!  How terrible!  What did she die of?”

“Improvements!”

HOTEL BIBLES

Safety

Once upon a time there lived an elderly millionaire who had four nephews.  Desiring to make one of these his heir, he tested their cleverness.

He gave to each a $100.00 bill, with the request that they hide the bills for a year in the city of New York.

Any of them who should succeed in finding the hidden bill at the end of the year should share in the inheritance.

The year being over, the four nephews brought their reports.

The first, deeply chagrined, told how he had put his bill in the strongest and surest safe deposit vault, but, alas, clever thieves had broken in and stolen it.

The second had put his in charge of a tried and true friend.  But the friend has proved untrustworthy and had spent the money.

The third had hidden his bill in a crevice in the floor of his room, but a mouse had nibbled it to bits to build her nest.

The fourth nephew calmly produced his $100.00 bill, as crisp and as fresh as when it had been given him.

“And where did you hide it?” asked his uncle.

“Too easy!  I stuck it in a hotel bible.”

—­Carolyn Wells.

HOTELS

A bellhop passed through the hall of the St. Francis Hotel whistling loudly.

“Young man,” said Manager Woods sternly, “you should know that it is against the rules of this hotel for an employee to whistle while on duty.”

“I am not whistling, sir,” replied the boy, “I’m paging Mrs. Jones’ dog.”

A tall, gaunt-looking person recently entered a hotel in a town where several fires had occurred and applied for a room at a price which entitled him to lodging on the top floor of the house.  Among his belongings the proprietor noticed a coil of rope, and asked what it was for.