Sandy had been photographed, and as he was looking intently at his "picter" Ian MacPherson came along.

"What's that ye hev there?" he asked.

"My photygraph," replied Sandy, showing it proudly. "Whit d'ye think o' it?"

"Man, it's fine!" exclaimed Ian, in great admiration. "It's just like ye, tae. An' whit micht the like o'

they cost?"

"I dinna' ken," replied Sandy. "I hinna' paid yet."

"Mon," said Ian, more firmly than ever. "It's awful like ye."

WHAT HE PREFERRED.

"And did you say you preferred charges against this man?" asked the Judge, looking over his gold- rimmed spectacles.

"No, Your Honour," was the quick reply of the man to whom money was owed; "I prefer the cash!"

"Wot was the last card Oi dealt ye, Moike?"

"A spade."

"Oi knew ut! Oi saw ye spit on yer hands before ye picked it up."

During the period after the university examinations, when an unusually large number of students flunked, one of the boys went to his professor, and said: "I don't think this is fair, sir; I don't think I should have a zero on this examination."

"I know it," replied the professor, "but we do not have any mark lower than that."

The long-suffering professor smothered his wrath and went down into the cellar. "Are you the plumber?" he inquired of a grimy-looking person who was tinkering with the pipes.

"Yes, guv'nor," he answered.

"Been in the trade long?"

"'Bout a year, guv'nor."

"Ever made any mistakes?"

"Bless yer, no, guv'nor."

"Oh, then, I suppose it is quite all right. I imagined you had connected up the wrong pipes, for the chandelier in the drawing-room is spraying like a fountain, and the bathroom tap is on fire."

A bright little newsie entered a business office and, approaching a glum-looking man at one of the desks, began with an ingratiating smile: "I'm selling thimbles to raise enough money to--"

"Out with you," interrupted the man.

"Wouldn't you like to look at some nice thimbles?"

"I should say not!"

"They're fine, and I'd like to make a sale," the boy continued.

Turning in his chair to fully face the lad, the grouch caustically inquired: "What 'n seven kinds of blue blazes do you think I want with a thimble?"

Edging toward the door to make a safe getaway, the boy answered: "Use it for a hat."

The lady was waiting to buy a ticket at the picture show when a stranger bumped her shoulder. She glared at him, feeling it was done intentionally.

"Well," he growled, "don't eat me up."

"You are in no danger, sir," she said. "I am a Jewess."

Sam, on board the transport, had just been issued his first pair of hobnails. "One thing suah," he ruminated. "If Ah falls overboard, Ah suttinly will go down at 'tenshun."

BLOOD RELATIONS.

Actor: "Are these poor relations of yours blood relations?"

Fulpurse: "Yes; they are ever bleeding me."

There had been a collision near Euston Station between a timber-cart and a cab.

The cart-driver said, with mock sympathy: "Oh, well, you can't help it! You're doin' yer bit, you an'

yer 'orse and yer blankety cabs all over age!"

"You're doin' yer bit, too, ain't yer?" was the cabby's rejoinder, "a'carrying of two lots o' wood- one in yer cart an' the other under yer blinkin' 'at!"

SCOTCHED!

A parsimonious farmer notorious for the small rations he doled out to his employees, said to a farmhand eating his breakfast, "Jock, there's a fly in yer parritch."

"That disna' matter," replied Jock gloomily, "it'll no' droon."

The farmer stared at him. "What do ye mean?" he asked angrily; "that's as much as sayin' ye hav'na'

enough mulk."

"Oh," replied Jock still more gloomily, "there's mair than enough for all the parritch I have."

THE BRUTE!

Mrs. Newlywed: "What does that inscription mean on that ring you gave me, Archie?"

Mr. Newlywed: "'Faithful to the last,' my dear!"

Mrs. Newlywed: "Oh! how could you? You always said I was the first."

THE WHOLE TRUTH.

Angus, a mason, was slipping out of the yard to get a "refresher" during working hours, when he suddenly ran into the boss.

"Hallo!" said the boss, pleasantly, "were you looking for me?"

"Ay," answered Angus, "I wis looking for ye, but I didna' want tae see ye."

THE CONSUMER INFLAMED.

"Ever get any nice butter?" queried old Grumpy.

"Supply in every day," replied his provision merchant suavely.

"Then why in thunder don't you sell it?" asked Grumpy.

HOW HE DID IT.

First Theatrical Manager: "Do you have any trouble with the girl who is playing the flapper in your new show?"

Second Theatrical Manager: "No; if she attempts to be skittish I just threaten to publish the photographs of her two sons who are lieutenants in the army."

REALITY.

A man, who is the father of a year-old youngster, met his pastor on Sunday afternoon.

"Why weren't you at church this morning?" was the first question of the spiritual adviser.

"I couldn't come," was the answer. "I had to stop at home and mind the baby; our nurse is ill."

"That's no excuse," said the pastor.

"It isn't? Well, next Sunday I'll bring him to church with me and see how you like it."