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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (April 17, 1914)
THE TELEPHONE PEST. I know where there is a charming ! young wife. Who spends about one-third of her life Talking over the telephone, When she ought to be ’tending to duties at home. At eight in the morning her first mes sage she sends, Business stops at the other end. Drivers and teams cannot start on the run Until the first conversation is done. At ten in the morning comes ring number two. At twelve or later this second talk is through. She explans how she hates to leave the line. But he understands that hubby must dine. She can hardly wait for the old man to get done, For call number three begins at one. She tells him what she had to eat. Speaks of dancing and shuffling feet. The above call comes on a different ’phone. When he goes to eat she must ring him at home, For it would be one of the awfullest things If twenty minutes elapsed between rings. Call number four comes promptly at three; They laugh and talk, Lord deliver me, From what I consider the worst of germs. The worm you could call a “telephone worm. At four-forty comes call number five, Just wanted to tell him she’s still alive; This is wound up rather close to six', My appetite’s ruined, their—makes m6 sick. My day’s work ends about six-ten, I don’t know just what happened then, But I know what is a good safe bet: If we were open till midnight, they’d be talking yet. I then go home and sit and think, What she can see in that big tall gink, Lucky old hubby! He won her hand Before she met this other man. Then I think of that poor simp, Whi sits at his desk till his arms are limps, Busy pushing away at his pen— While his wife is talking to other men. And me! Poor me! Is the one to suffer, On account of her talking to this tall duffer, The telephone is now moved to my desk, Depriving me of my usual rest. I never wag much 'on this telephone game, But I paid a few visits on it just the same; I like to call where you get kissed and hugged, And you can’t enjoy these from a tele phone bug. —W. S. GILLESPIE. WHAT’S IN A NAME? A man may have a sounding name And still be quite unknown to fame; Napoleon St. Clair Bronson Greggs When last we met was peddling eggs. Birmingham Age-Herald. One would suppose a name so fine, Must be that of some great divine. But Chesterfield Maximilian Bates Each morning shines our number eights. —Youngstown Telegram. We’ve heard that in this life’s great game There’s very little in a name. Now, Constance Charity McNair Can heave a rolling pin for fair. —Yonkers Statesman. We’d say in such a circumstance The bearer never had a chance. Thus Andrew Jackson, never fear. Shall cut our yard again this year. —Fort Worth Star-Telegram. We’ve waded through this bunch of stuff And really think they’ve said enough, But Ophelia Marguerite McIntosh Continues to do our family wash. —Mineral Wells Hustler. She Knew. Fashionable Ladyi—Give me five yards of this goods, please. Clerk—But, madam, you will not need more than half a yard for a veil. Fashionable Lady—I don’t want it for a veil. I want it for a dinner gown.—Chaparral. At that, she didn’t need five yards. The Dutiful Knight. There lived a gallant cavalier, In all the land was not his peer, And ever did he without fear His knightly duty. But when, full oft, upon the stroke Of two his son and heir awoke, He walked the floor. It was no joke— His knightly duty. •—Illinois Siren. With Apologies. Staff Artist—How about another take-off on September Morn? Editor—Impossible! Staff Artist—Well, don’t get sore; that was merely a bare suggestion. M isunderstood. ’16—I want some winter under clothes. Clerk—How long? ’16—You boob, I don’t want to rent ’em; I want to buy ’em.—Tiger. Artificial. Eight-fifteener—Hasn’t your girl any class this hour? Queener—Nope. She doesn’t get up till nine o’clock, so it’s still on her dresser.—Stamford Chaparral. He—What’s the best way to tell a bad egg? She—-If you’ve got anything to tell a bad egg, there’s only one way— break it gently.—Princeton Tiger. Gasbag Bill—Why, when I was in Arizona I used to drive a cultivator over fifty acres a day. Cynical Sim—That must have been a harrowing experience. At the Infirmary. Fish—Doctor, will you please give me something for my head? Doctor—My dear boy, I wouldn’t take it as a gift. “Have you any valid reason for hanging around that convent the way you do?” “Nun.”—Minne-Ha-Ha. WITH A FAR-OFF LOOK. He—I wosh I had money. I’d travel She — How much do you need?— Judge. HOMICIDAL IMPULSE. A young lady asked the prayers of the congregation because she could not set eyes upon a certain young man without feeling as if though she must hug him to death. ELECTRIC. Charley Davis says he does’nt won der that his sweetheart is afraid of lightning—she is so awfully atrract- ive. His View. Friend—And were you ever in Venice? Mr. Richquick—Yes. Slowest town I was ever in. The sewers were bust ed all the time we were there!—Puck. “No man can serve two masters,’’ observed the good parson who was visiting the penitentiary. “I know it,” replied Convict 1313. “I’m in for bigamy.”—^Cincinnati En quirer. “Why so sad, Archibald?” “A friend of mine has gotten en gaged.” “Cheer up, you’ll get another girl." “Girl, hell!—where will I get a pres ent?”—Cornell Widow. First Stude—What are you going to do this summer? Second Stude—Take a good loaf. First Stude—Good! I’m going to a summer school, too. —• Wisconsin Sphinx. Old Lady Visitor—Poor man, what ever made you take up such a pro fession? No. 99765—Well, mum, I found I could open me gym locker.—Cornell Widow. He—Darling, why are you so sad? She (gulping down a sob)—Oh, dear est, I was just thinking this will be our last evening together until tomor row night!—Puck. Close. Star—Is your boarding house man ager stingy? Ving—Stingy! Why, it breaks his heart to feed the furnace.—Chaparral. Out, Damned Spot! He—Have you read “Freckles?” She (quickly)—Oh, no! That’s my veil!—Sun Dial. I Should Smile. Maiden—Do you day-dream much? Man—Oh, my, yes—you see, I’m a night watchman.'—Chaparral. OLD MAIDS. Some wicked wretch has most un kindly said: “ Old maids are ember whence the sparks have fled!” SHORT CEREMONY. “Have ’er?” “Yes.” “Have ’m?” “Yes.” “Married—two dollars.”