The boy took him about
three doors away and there was the bank. Paying the fee, the man
said, "That was half a dollar easily earned, son."
"Sure," said the boy, "but youse mustn't fergit that bank directors
is paid high in Noo Yawk."
_At Any Cost_
A darky preacher was lost in the happy selection of his text, which
he repeated in vigorous accents of pleading.
"Oh, bredern, at de las' day dere's gwine to be sheep and dere's
gwine to be goats. Who's gwine to be de sheep, an' who's gwine to be
de goats? Let's all try to be like de li'l white lambs, bredern.
Shall we be de goats, sisters? Naw, we's gwine to be de sheep.
Who's gwine to be de sheep, bredern, an' who's gwine to be de goats?
Tak' care ob youh souls, sisters; tak' care ob youh souls. Remember,
dere's gwine to be goats an' sheep. Who's gwine to be de sheep an'
who's gwine to be de goats?"
Just then a solitary Irishman who had been sitting in the back of the
church, listening attentively, rose and said:
"Oi'll be the goat. Go on; tell us the joke, Elder. Oi'll be the
goat!"
_Where Was Bill_?
Bill Jones is a country storekeeper down in Louisiana, and last
spring he went to New Orleans to purchase a stock of goods.
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