"Oh, she broke it?"

"No, she didn't break it."

"But it is broken?"

"Yes. She told me what her raiment cost, and I told her what my income was. Then our engagement sagged in the middle and gently dissolved."

A FUTILE EXPERIMENT

William Williams hated nicknames. He used to say that most fine given names were ruined by abbreviations, which was a sin and a shame. "I myself," he said, "am one of six brothers. We were all given good, old-fashioned Christian names, but all those names were shortened into meaningless or feeble monosyllables by our friends. I shall name my children so that it will be impracticable to curtail their names."

The Williams family, in the course of time, was blessed with five children, all boys. The eldest was named after the father--William. Of course, that would be shortened to "Will" or enfeebled to "Willie"--but wait! A second son came and was christened Willard. "Aha!" chuckled Mr.

Williams, "Now everybody will have to speak the full names of each of these boys in order to distinguish them."

In pursuance of this scheme the next three sons were named Wilbert, Wilfred, and Wilmont.

They are all big boys now. And they are respectively known to their intimates as Bill, Skinny, Butch, Chuck, and Kid.

THEY MEANT TO BE PAID

No man is ever willing to admit that he has any prejudices. But sometimes the facts confront him sternly, as in the case of the two gentlemen in the following dialogue:

BRIGGS: I wonder why it is that when men like Bryan and Billy Sunday accept good money we have a tendency secretly to despise them.

GRIGGS: Well, I presume because they are posing to be disinterested.

When they take away such big returns we set them down as hypocrites.

BRIGGS: But they have a right to make a living.

GRIGGS: You might say that of any one else--any get-rich-quick chap, for example, provided he can get away with it.

BRIGGS: But the get-rich-quick man is cheating his customers.

GRIGGS: Well, a good many people feel that both Bryan and Sunday are cheating their customers. I don't say they are, mind you. I am only giving that side of the argument, and, according to it, they are deluding their customers with false hopes. Bryan says that a combination of free silver, grape juice, and peace will cure all ills, and he gets five hundred dollars a lecture for saying it. Billy Sunday gets thousands of dollars for dragging h.e.l.l out into the limelight. They are both popular forms of amus.e.m.e.nt. They divert the mind. Why shouldn't they be paid? There are far worse moving-picture shows than Bryan or Sunday.

BRIGGS: You believe that, now, don't you? Be honest and say it's your genuine opinion, and not put it off on someone else.

GRIGGS _(Lowering his voice_): Well, I'll tell you, old chap. I believe it about Bryan, but not about Sunday. Sunday's all right. He hates money! How do you feel about it?

BRIGGS: You're wrong. I believe it about Sunday, but not about Bryan.

Bill Bryan is all right. He's a patriot. I wouldn't trust Sunday, but W.J. Bryan's whole thought is for others. (_Looking at his watch_.) Heavens! I didn't realize it was so late. I must rush off.

GRIGGS: Is it that late? I must hurry away also. Where are you going?

BRIGGS: I'm going to hear Sunday. Where are you going?

GRIGGS: I'm going to hear Bryan.

A POSER

When James B. Reynolds was a.s.sistant Secretary of the Treasury, Senator Root sent for Mr. Reynolds one day to discuss with him some matters concerning a trade conference in Paris which Mr. Reynolds had been selected to attend.

"I suppose," said Mr. Root, "you speak French?"

"Well, yes," responded Mr. Reynolds. "I know a little French. I have no trouble to make the waiters and the cab drivers understand me."

"I see," said Mr. Root. "But, Mr. Reynolds, suppose there should be no waiters and cab drivers at the conference?"

NO DANGER

Much sobered by the importance of the news he had to communicate, youthful Thomas strode into the house and said breathlessly:

"Mother, they have a new baby next door, and the lady over there is awful sick. Mother, you ought to go right in and see her."

"Yes, dear," said his mother. "I will go over in a day or two just as soon as she gets better."

"But, mother," persisted Thomas. "I think you ought to go in right away; she is real sick, and maybe you can do something to help."

"Yes, dear," said the mother patiently, "but wait a day or so until she is just a little better."

Thomas seemed much dissatisfied at his mother's apparent lack of neighborly interest, and then something seemed to dawn upon him, for he blurted out:

"Mother, you needn't be afraid--it ain't catching."

MIGHT DRAW BUSINESS

Burton Holmes, the lecturer, had an interesting experience while in London. He told some Washington friends a day or two ago that when he visited the theatre where he was to deliver his travelogue he decided that the entrance to the theatre was rather dingy and that there should be more display of his attraction.

Accordingly, he suggested to the manager of the house that the front be brightened up at night by electrical signs, one row of lights spelling his name "Burton" and another row of lights spelling the name "Holmes."

The manager told him it was too much of an innovation for him to authorize and referred him to the owner of the theatre. Mr. Holmes traveled several hours into the country to consult with the owner, who referred him to his agent in the city. The agent in turn sent Mr. Holmes to the janitor of the theatre.

"I talked with the janitor and explained my plan to him for about an hour," Mr. Holmes said. "Finally, after we had gone into every detail of the cost and everything else, the janitor told me that the theatre was a very exclusive and high-cla.s.s theatre, and that he would not put up the sign. I asked him why?"

"Because it would attract too much attention to the theatre," the janitor replied.

SAFE

The fine art of concealment is thus formulated by Carolyn Wells, writing in _Life_:

Once upon a time there lived an elderly millionaire who had four nephews. Desiring to make one of these his heir, he tested their cleverness.