SMITH—­“We are certainly in luck with our new cook—­soup, meat, vegetables and dessert, everything perfect!”

MRS. S.—­“Yes, but the dessert was made by her successor.”

THE NEW GIRL—­“An’ may me intended visit me every Sunday afternoon, ma’am?”

MISTRESS—­“Who is your intended, Delia?”

THE NEW GIRL—­“I don’t know yet, ma’am.  I’m a stranger in town.”

“And do you have to be called in the morning?” asked the lady who was about to engage a new girl.

“I don’t has to be, mum,” replied the applicant, “unless you happens to need me.”

A maid dropped and broke a beautiful platter at a dinner recently.  The host did not permit a trifle like this to ruffle him in the least.

“These little accidents happen ’most every day,” he said apologetically.  “You see, she isn’t a trained waitress.  She was a dairymaid originally, but she had to abandon that occupation on account of her inability to handle the cows without breaking their horns.”

Young housewives obliged to practice strict economy will sympathize with the sad experience of a Washington woman.

When her husband returned home one evening he found her dissolved in tears, and careful questioning elicited the reason for her grief.

“Dan,” said she, “every day this week I have stopped to look at a perfect love of a hat in Mme. Louise’s window.  Such a hat, Dan, such a beautiful hat!  But the price—­well, I wanted it the worst way, but just couldn’t afford to buy it.”

“Well, dear,” began the husband recklessly, “we might manage to—­”

“Thank you, Dan,” interrupted the wife, “but there isn’t any ‘might’ about it.  I paid the cook this noon, and what do you think?  She marched right down herself and bought that hat!”—­Edwin Tarrisse.

It is probable that many queens of the kitchen share the sentiment good-naturedly expressed by a Scandinavian servant, recently taken into the service of a young matron of Chicago.

The youthful assumer of household cares was disposed to be a trifle patronizing.

“Now, Lena,” she asked earnestly, “are you a good cook?”

“Ya-as, ’m, I tank so,” said the girl, with perfect naivete, “if you vill not try to help me.”—­Elgin Burroughs.

“Have you a good cook now?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t been home since breakfast!”

MRS. LITTLETOWN—­“This magazine looks rather the worse for wear.”

MRS. NEARTOWN—­“Yes, it’s the one I sometimes lend to the servant on
Sundays.”

MRS. LITTLETOWN—­“Doesn’t she get tired of always reading the same one?”

MRS. NEARTOWN—­“Oh, no.  You see, it’s the same book, but it’s always a different servant.”—­Suburban Life.

MRS. HOUSEN HOHM—­“What is your name?”

APPLICANT FOR COOKSHIP—­“Miss Arlington.”

MRS. HOUSEN HOHM—­“Do you expect to be called Miss Arlington?”