MEN

"Daughter," said the father, "your young man, Rawlings, stays until a very late hour. Has not your mother said something to you about this habit of his?"

"Yes, father," replied the daughter sweetly. "Mother says men haven't altered a bit."

All mankind is divided into three classes: those that are immovable, those that are movable, and those that move.--_Arabian proverb_.

For every woman who makes a fool out of a man there is another woman who makes a man out of a fool.

The ideal man is as numerous as there are women to describe him.

If a woman is an hour late in returning home, and her husband is worried, she is flattered. If a man is three hours late he is angry if anyone is worried.

He was fond of playing jokes on his wife, and this time he thought he had a winner.

"My dear," he said, as they sat at supper, "I just heard such a sad story of a young girl today. They thought she was going blind, and so a surgeon operated on her and found--"

"Yes?" gasped the wife breathlessly.

"That she'd got a young man in her eye!" ended the husband, with a chuckle.

For a moment there was silence. Then the lady remarked, slowly:

"Well, it would all depend on what sort of a man it was. Some of them she could have seen through easily enough."

A little girl wrote the following composition on men:

"Men are what women marry. They drink and smoke and swear, but don't go to church. Perhaps if they wore bonnets they would. They are more logical than women, also more zoological. Both men and women sprang from monkeys, but the women sprang farther than the men."

             _Essay on Man_

  At ten, a child; at twenty, wild;     At thirty, tame, if ever;   At forty, wise; at fifty, rich;     At sixty, good, or never!

_See also_ Husbands.

METHODISTS

He came of good Methodist stock and they were telling him about the disciples. They told him quite a lot about them, and somehow he didn't seem quite satisfied.

At last he voiced his trouble:

"But were they all Disciples? Weren't there _any_ Methodists?"

MIDDLEMAN

"The first shall be last and the last shall be first," quoted the devout citizen.

"It makes no difference to me how you arrange 'em," replied the expert commercialist. "I'll get mine either way. I'm the middleman."

"Pop!"

"Yes, my son."

"What is a gardener?"

"A gardener is a man who raises a few things, my boy."

"And what is a farmer?"

"A man who raises a lot of things."

"Well, what is a middleman, Pop?"

"Why, he's a fellow who raises everything, my son."

MILITARISM

VILLAGE PACIFIST (as the Salvation Army passes)--"Oh, it's all right. I ain't sayin' 'taint. But it's fosterin' th' martial speerit jes' th' same."--_Judge_.

MILITARY DISCIPLINE

A colored gentleman was walking post for the first time in his life. A dark form approached him.

"Halt!" he cried in a threatening tone. "Who are you?"

"The officer of the day."

"Advance!"

The O.D. advanced, but before he had proceeded half a dozen steps the dusky sentinel again cried, "Halt!"

"This is the second time you have halted me," observed the O.D. "What are you going to do next?"

"Never you mind what Ah's gonna do. Mah orders are to call 'Halt!' three times, den shoot."

At twelve the other night one of our aviators who had liberty until ten-thirty was "hot-footin'" it back from a hop harbor in a neighboring ville. He passed the tracks, the "Y," and then started on the double past the sentry at the gate.

"Halt!" commanded the sentry.

"Halt nothin'," yelled the gob; "I'm two hours late now."

The railings of a big transport on its way to France were lined with very new soldiers when a massive gob hurried by, bent upon some urgent duty.

"Gangway! Gangway!" he shouted as he passed along the deck.

"Gee, that guy'll catch hell when they find him," murmured one of the recruits. "They been hollerin' for him all mornin.'"

"Hollerin' for who?"

"Why, that guy Gangway."

FRIEND--"How's your boy getting on in the army, Mr. Johnson?"

JOHNSON--"Wonderful! I feel a sense of great security. An army that can make my boy get up early, work hard all day, and go to bed early can do anything!"

He was a very young officer, who looked as if he should be wearing knee breeches.

One day when his company was up for inspection at the training camp, one of the men remarked in a tone of deep sarcasm. "And a little child shall lead them."

"The man who said that, step forward," was the immediate command. The entire company stepped out and repeated the quotation.

The lieutenant looked up and down the line. "Dismissed," he announced shortly.

The men thought they had gotten the better of him, but not for long, for that night at retreat when the orders for the following day were read they heard: "There will be a twenty-five-mile hike tomorrow with full equipment, and a little child shall lead them--on a damned good horse."

HE--"Have the car ready at the Admiralty at 4:30."

CHAUFFEUSE--"Very well."

HE--"I am accustomed to being addressed as 'My Lord!'"

SHE--"I am accustomed to being addressed as 'My Lady!'"

Aunt Nancy was visiting an army camp and as she approached some rookies were sitting on their heels and then rising to a standing position in perfect unison.

"What are the boys doing now?" she asked.

"Why, those are the setting-up exercises," explained an obliging sergeant.

"Humph," remarked auntie. "Looks to me more like settin' down exercises."

Passing a hand over his forehead, the worried drill-sergeant paused for breath as he surveyed the knock-kneed recruit. Then he pointed a scornful finger. "No," he declared, "you're hopeless. You'll never make a soldier. Look at you now. The top 'alf of your legs is standin' to attention, an' the bottom 'alf is standin' at ease!"

A sergeant was trying to drill a lot of raw recruits, and after working hard for three hours he thought they seemed to be getting into some sort of shape, so decided to test them.

"Right turn!" he cried. Then, before they had ceased to move, came another order, "Left turn!"

One hoodlum left the ranks and started off toward the barracks-room.

"Here, you!" yelled the angry sergeant. "Where are you going?"

"I've had enough," replied the recruit in a disgusted tone. "You don't know your own mind for two minutes runnin'!"

The day after the second draft quota had reached Camp Devens a rookie strolled into camp after dark. As he was going past a sentry, he was challenged.

"Who goes there?"

"Machine gun 301," answered the rookie.

"Advance to be recognized."

"Aw, you don't know me. I've only been here a coupla days."

"How did that private ever get in here?" asked a corporal of a captain as he looked at a boy who seemed to be a physical weakling.

"Walked in backward," said the captain, "and the guard thought he was going out."

"Remember, my son," said his mother as she bade him good-by, "when you get to camp try to be punctual in the mornings, so as not to keep breakfast waiting."--_Life_.

A young American artist who has just returned from a six-months' job of driving a British ambulance on the war-front in Belgium brings this back, straight from the trenches:

"One cold morning a sign was pushed up above the German trench facing ours, only about fifty yards away, which bore in large letters the words:

"'GOTT MIT UNS!'

"One of our cockney lads, more of a patriot than a linguist, looked at this for a moment and then lampblacked a big sign of his own, which he raised on a stick. It read:

"'WE GOT MITTENS, TOO!'"

"Who goes there?" the sentry challenged.

"Lord Roberts," answered the tipsy recruit.

Again the sentry put the question and received a like answer, whereupon he knocked the offender down. When the latter came to, the sergeant was bending over him. "See here!" said the sergeant, "why didn't you answer right when the sentry challenged you?"

"Holy St. Patrick!" replied the recruit; "if he'd do that to Lord Roberts, what would he do to plain Mike Flanagan?"

A mud-spattered dough-boy slouched into the "Y" hut where an entertainment was in progress and slumped into a front seat.

Firm, kindly, and efficient, a Y.M.C.A. man approached him, saying: "Sorry, buddy, but the entire front section is reserved for officers."

Wearily the youth rose.

"All right," he drawled, "but the one I just got back from wasn't."

A well-dressed stranger strolled up to a colored prisoner, who was taking a long interval of rest between two heaves of a pick.

"Well, Sam, what crime did you commit to be put in those overalls and set under guard?"

"Ah went on a furlong, sah."

"Went on a furlong? You mean you went on a furlough."

"No, boss, it was a sho' nuff furlong. Ah went too fur, and Ah stayed too long."

An officer of the A.E.F. relates the following: "We had a bunch of negro troops on board and it was a terrible experience to them, as most of them had never been away from home before. They were very religious and used to pray all over the ship. One big buck held a prayer right outside my window, thus: 'O Lord, if Thou doesn't do another thing on this trip, call this ocean to attention.'"

CAPTAIN (speaking to raw recruit trying to drill)--"What was your occupation before entering the army?"

ROOKIE--"Traveling salesman, sir."

CAPTAIN--"Stick around; you'll get plenty of orders here."

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