unding fact" that since the dawn of history fewer
than three hundred and fifty great men have lived. We too are astounded.
We had no notion there were so many.

* * *

"Great Britain," says Lloyd George, "must be freed of ignorance,
insobriety, penury, and the tyranny of man over man." That ought not to
require more than three or four glacial periods.

* * *

The Woman's Club asks for "jingles for the jaw." Well, here are two from
C. L. Edson. Try them on your jaw:

THE TREE TOADS.

A tree toad loved a she toad
That lived up in a tree;
She was a three-toed tree toad,
But a two-toed toad was he.

The two-toed tree toad tried to win
The she toad's friendly nod;
For the two-toed tree toad loved the ground
That the three-toed tree toad trod.

But vainly the two-toed tree toad tried--
He couldn't please her whim;
In her tree toad bower
With her V-toe power,
The she toad vetoed him.

THE RIDER AND THE ADDER.

Miss Tudor was a rider in a famous circus show;
For a pet she had an adder--and the adder loved her so!

She fed the adder dodder. It's a plant that live on air,
Could you find an odder fodder if you hunted everywhere?

Miss Tudor bought some madder. It's a color rather rare,
And it made the adder shudder when Miss Tudor dyed her hair.

Her hair was soft as eider when she tried her madder dye;
Then, it had an odder odor--and was redder than the sky.

The adder couldn't chide 'er. It could only idle stare,
But a sadder adder eyed 'er when the rider dyed 'er hair.

* * *

One of our readers was dozing in the lobby of a Boston hotel when he was
aroused by an altercation near the cigar stand. A was wagering B that
the name of the heroine of "The Scarlet Letter" was Hester Thorne, B
maintaining that it was Hester Prim. The manager of the hotel was about
to call the police, forgetting that there were none, when the
gum-chewing divinity behind the case awarded the decision to B, and the
crowd reluctantly dispersed.

We have on hand a column of favorite wheezes sent in response to our
invitation, and the only reason we have not printed them is the
preponderance of our own stuff. Naturally, or not, we are better amused
by the wheezes of contributors. Frexample the following evoked a smile:

"On the train running into Tulsa," wrote a gadder, "a native was fooling
with the roller curtai