It has saved more money for individuals with backbone than a year’s output of padlocks.

It has made itself Prohibition’s greatest aid.

It has killed genius and thwarted ambition.  It has turned love into hate and success into failure.

It has kept kings off thrones and poets out of Arcadia.

It has caused good men to tremble and scoundrels to rejoice.

Will it ever make a change for the better?

No.

NOTHING

  Mysterious Nothing! how shall I define
    Thy shapeless, baseless, placeless emptiness? 
  Nor form, nor colour, sound, nor size is thine,
    Nor words nor fingers can thy voice express;
  But though we cannot thee to aught compare,
    A thousand things to thee may likened be,
  And though thou art with nobody nowhere,
    Yet half mankind devote themselves to thee. 
  How many books thy history contain;
    How many heads thy mighty plans pursue;
  What labouring hands thy portion only gain;
    What busy bodies thy doings only do! 
  To thee the great, the proud, the giddy bend,
    And—­like my sonnet—­all in nothing end.

  —­Richard Parson.

NURSES

FREDDIE—­“Are you the trained nurse mama said was coming?”

NURSE—­“Yes, dear; I’m the trained nurse.”

FREDDIE—­“Let’s see some of your tricks, then!”

OBEDIENCE

A certain woman demands instant and unquestioning obedience from her children.  One afternoon a storm came up and she sent her little son John to close the trap leading to the flat roof of the house.

“But mother,” began John.

“John, I told you to shut the trap.”

“Yes, but mother—­”

“John, shut that trap.”

“All right, mother, if you say so—­but—­”

“John!”

Whereupon John slowly climbed the stairs and shut the trap.  Two hours later the family gathered for dinner, but Aunt Mary, who was staying with the mother, did not appear.  The mother, quite anxious, exclaimed, “Where can Aunt Mary be?”

“I know,” John answered triumphantly, “she is on the roof.”

OBESITY

See Corpulence.

OBITUARIES

Upon the recent death in a Western town of a politician, who, at one time, served his country in a very high legislative place, a number of newspaper men were collaborating on an obituary notice.

“What shall we say of the former Senator?” asked one of the men.

“Oh, just put down that he was always faithful to his trust.”

“And,” queried a cynical member of the group, “shall we mention the name of the trust?”—­Puck.

See also Epitaphs.