Swing (Feb-Dec 1951)

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ait, he searched her face for some 18 to their fate. But she only said, "Aren't we ppy, George? Don't you love me THE POETESS 89 y more John, who was Anne Boleyn?" asked teacher. Anne Boleyn was a flat iron." 'What on earth gave you that idea?" teacher queried. 'Well," replied John, "It says in this tory book, 'Henry, having rid himself Catherine, pressed his suit with Anne leyn.' " A A beetle can lift 500 times his own light — it is not known what breakfast bd he uses. "This is my past.' And he gave it all up forever. "Yes, I love you," he sighed as he drew close all the warmth that wa* cool as ice, and all the softness that was as brittle. Two snowy-haired old ladies, jouncing along in an antiquated automobile through York, Pennsylvania, made an illegal turn. The traffic cop had to blow his whistle vigorously and repeatedly before they came to a stop. "Didn't you hear my whistle, lady?" he asked. Wide-eyed and innocent, the little lady looked at him. "Yes, indeed," she said, "but I never flirt while driving." The twelve year old offspring of a friend confided that he was burdened with an ever-increasing worry. The boy had been signing his father's name to his report cards ever since the third grade, and last term the teacher wondered why his dad's writing seemed to be improving. A guest cornered by his host's seven vear old son, bought his way to freedom by dropping a quarter in the lad's piggy bank. "You must be rich by now," he said. The boy eyed the bank balefully. "No," he snapped. "Between Sunday school and this darned pig, I'm broke all the time." ▲ An inquisitive oldster asked a youngster what the papers cost him. "Three cents," answered the lad. "What do you sell them for?" "Three cents," was the answer. "Goodness, son," said the man, "you can't make any profit doing business that way. Why do you sell papers for what they cost you?" "Oh," answered the newsboy, "I do it because it gives me a chance to holler all I want to."