The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1901-04-03

The bride Of a brief month crouched in
a corner of a divan-crouched among her
gorgeous pillows, while the bitter tears
streamed down and stained the delicate
fabrics. This was the end of her young
ambitions, her brave efforts TO make life
one grand. sweet song. AS she uttered
one last sigh of despair her mother en-
tered the room and flew to the divan,
casting her arms about her Frustrated
child.
my darling girl, what is it?' she
cried. "Confide in your mother What
is it that thus wrings your HEARTY?
"N-nothing, ma; n-nothing. B-but it
is all over"
What is all over?' questioned the
abused you!'
"No, ma said the bride, raising her
self upon her elbow and speaking with
tragic emphasis. "You remember what
my ambition has been for months?
Wwell!"-sobbing- cut both boomers
for one leg, and it was a remnant and
l can't match it anywhere"
My child,'' said her mother solemnly,
your trouble is indeed too great to
bear."-Leslies Weekly.
There was little dinner given to Viii
liam Marconi not long ago, of which
one incident is still remembered by the
u
company, growing enthusiastic over
toast to the inventor Of wireless telegra-
ply, made this climax to his peroration:
Gentlemen, | give you Marconi, the
Franklin, the Faraday, and the Helm
holtz of Italy" When the toast had
been drunk, the distinguished guest
thanked the party for the honor, and
added: 'But / must protest against the
action of the preceding speaker in MAX
ing me riplets.'-E'rank Lesie's Popu-
lar Monthly.
Visitor Cooking at the photograph al
bum)-"YCu have a fne-lcoking family Of
boys Mr.. Bilkerson. And they all seem
to have turned out remarkably well.
This is Henry, isn't it?'
Mr.. Bilkerson (proudly)-"Yes, that's
Henry. He's in the music-hall line. Gets
EGO week for merely singing what they
call topical song. Henry's a good deal
pher. He's jockey. Made $1,000 out
Of it last year. The one on the next page
is Oliver. He keeps a stock exchange
'bucketshop. Built fine house out of
what he made out of it last year and the
pretty well. Come out out with me to o0 the
stables L"
Visitor-"But you have another son,
haven't your
Mr.. Bilkerson (reluctantly)-"Y-e-e-s.
His names Gabriel. He's a professor of
Greek K or theology or something, of that
fellow in his way, but he doesn't seem
to get on. Come out to the stables, Mr..
Swackhammer, | want to show you my
new pair OF grays:'-Tit-Bits.
''Wel, no." said the loquacious land
lord of the tavern at Pettyville, trife
sarcastically; I'VE amt got any exclusive
cnt tnrio hot IL
400 Of this village, but we are afflicted
with what some Of the rest Of us are
mean enough to designate as the snob-
bish Smythe class. It consists Of Joneses,
who spell themselves 'Joughnes.' John
sons, who are. 'Johnstones,' 'Millars,
Brownies, 'Jenkynses,' and so forth all
of whom have given up croquet and golf,
and owe the balance Of us money!
Judge.
A popular Cleveland doctor tells the
Plaindealer this story Of a bright boy,
his own, who has reached the mature age
of after an early career marked by
many wild and mischievous pranks.
His restless nature has made him some
thing of torment to his teacher at
times, and one afternoon not long ago
she kept him after the others were dis
missed and had a serious talk with him.
Perhaps she was a little afraid that her
ground. Anyway, she finally said:
Il certainly will have to ask your IA
Their to come and see me-"
Don't you do it, said the boy.
The teacher thought she had made an
impression.
Yes" she repeated, e must send for
your father
''You better not said the boy.
"Why not?' inquired the teacher.
"'Cause he charges So VISIT said
the scamp
-:o:-
Doctor-"Good morning, Mr.. Lover |
What can do for your
Mr.. Lover-''I-I called, sir, toto ask |
for the hand of-of your daughter
"Humph! Appetite good?"
"How is your pulse?'
every rapid when-when I am with |
her: very feeble when away"
Troubled with palpitation?'
lawfully, when [ think of her.
'"Take my daughter; you'll soon be
cured. One guinea, please. ''-Tit-Bits.
The girl at the stationery counter was
talking to the girl from the necktie coun-
ter.
Il told him, | says. Now, look here I
unless you've got something to say? | |
says. / don't like TO hear man shoot
in off his mouth, L says. Just to hear |
himself talk, [ says. Some people,
says, are built that way I SAYS, and
they'll stand and CAB at YOU | says, |
till they talk the arm off YOU | says.
and after they got through [ says, you
don't know what they've been gabbin'
about 1 says. I amt got any use,' l
says, for those kind Of people, | says.
and what's more l says, L amt afraid |
to tell 'em So l says"
"What did he say to that?''
'He didn't say anything-the slob! l |
didn't give him a chance. Chicago
Tribune.
Mother-"Freddy, 1 hear you got a
thrashing in school today"
Freddy-"Yes, ma, the teacher
whipped me, but he is getting so old and
weak that it didn't hurt me much"
Mother-"Did you cry?'
Freddy-"Oh, yes; | bawled so you
could have heard it in the next street"
Mother-"Why did you do that?''
Freddy-"I wanted to make the old |
man feel happy once more. ''-Tit-Bits.