  She sketched a husband strong and brave On whom her heart might lean; None but a hero would she have— This girl of 17. Her fancy subsequently turned From deeds of derring do; For brainy intercourse she yearned When she was 22. The years sped on, ambition taught A worldly-wise design; A man of wealth was what she sought When she was 29. But Time has modified her plan; Weak, imbecile, or poor— She's simply looking for a man Now she is 34. Our Village Industrial Competition.—Husband (just home from the City). "My angel!—crying!—whatever's the matter?" Wife. "They've—awarded me—prize medal"—(sobbing)—"f' my sponge cake!" Husband (soothingly). "And I'm quite sure it deserv——" Wife (hysterically). "Oh—but—'t said—'twas—for the best specimen—o' concrete!" Couple talking to a man. "FOR THIS RELIEF——?" "I'm sorry to hear your wife is suffering from her throat. I hope it's nothing serious?" "No, I don't think so. The doctor's forbidden her to talk much. It'll trouble her a good deal, I expect, and she won't be herself for some time." |
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