The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1911-06-04

lnte llgenCe OF women. lHJelllBeHL
men hesitate to say that women are
their mental interiors. But the con
ceit of stupid men reminds me of
Sandy MACPHERSON. Sandy, in a pub
lie house, told an Englishman that
all the great poets were Scotch. But
how about Shakespeare? cried the
Englishman. Can you say he was
Scotch? His talents was the reply,
would justify that supposeetion,' -
Kansas City Star.
A Missourian from the O2arks re-
Gently went to the city to see the
sights, the Spokane Spokesman Re
view claims. He had never been in
big city before. He walked down
the street, looking in the windows
and enjoying himself hugely. At one
place he saw a sign reading. "Wo-
mans Exchange"
The mountaineer hurried into the
store. which was filled with various
specimens of feminine handicraft.
is this the Woman's Exchange?"
he asked.
1T is" answered very tai, very
saunt and very spinsterlike person
behind the counter.
BE you the woman" and he eyed
her keenly.
J guess | am"
wall, I guess I'll keep SAL" he
said apologetically, hurrying out
Kansas City Star.
Upon the floor lay a glittering
sovereign. The shOpman was busy at
the counter. no one else was by.
Quivering with excitement, Jimmy
Slant dropped his glove upon the
spot, and then casually stopped to
gather up his fallen gauntlet. But his
hand was trembling so violently that
he fumbled, missed the coin, and rose
with the glove alone clasped in his
digits.
He dropped his glove again. He
stopped again. He failed again.
AS he was; about to make his third
effort to pick up the elusive gold
piece. The voice of the shopman
sounded above him.
May / sell you a bottle of this
sire"
"Er-what is it?" inquired Slant
with his eye upon the glove
Liquid glue, sir" replied the shop
man b,andly. "It sticks. Answers
George Gould was making one O
u his last trips as president of the
y Missouri Pacific. His private ca
was laid out on a siding for som,
[ reason or other, and he got out tt
o stretch his legs. An old Irishman wa.
tapping the wheels. Gould went u
e to him.
e Morning. How do you like tn,
z wheels?% '.' - .~' 's-''N
/. Not worth a darn said the Irish
man.
n well. how do you like the carr
It's good enough for the wheels.
!, What do you think of the road?'
1T matches the car"
. Gould looked at the old chap fo
{ a minute.
Maybe you don't know who am.
Yes, do" retorted the Irishman
You're George Gould, and | knew
your father when he was presiden
, of the road. And, by COB, he's goins
to be president of it again"
"Why, my father is dead" sale
Mr. Gould.
Il know that" replied the Irish
man, and the road is going to hell
G Chicago Tribune.
Every fisherman has his fish story
every hunter his bear story-anc
every traveller his sea story. A Ger
' tain public parsonage comments on
the last type:
There was never q ship yet that
did not have one person on board
who boas'ed eternally of the number
Of times he had crossed the Atlantic
Now ii is thirty-nine times. now it is
ninetusiX times. Every ship carries
this one passenger, who seems to
have devoted his whole life to max,
b ing 4 record for Atlantic crossings.
| once heard Detroit girl poke a
little fun at 20 passenger of this
type. He said to her:
DO you know this is my fifty-sev.
, enth crossing?"
) "ls it?" she said, indifferently. 1T
is my ninety-eighth
Really" the man exclaimed.
: oh, yes. indeed she exclaimed.
nbCo nCDCN lr unnE nv