ace, and he might have added
that the place seems to be everywhere.

"Do Englishmen understand American slang?"

"Some of them do. Why?"

"My daughter is to be married in London, and the earl has cabled me to
come across."

SMILES

Smile! Never let your face look like a funeral; look like a search
warrant. The bud that cannot blossom dries up in the stock. Smile, if
you have to force it.

When your voice sounds like a benediction, when your face looks like
an old lemon, folks are sure to sidestep you.

What you give out you are reasonably sure to take in.

Look for a fight and someone will put a black circle round your left
eye.

Remember this: The face is more legible than an open book. You can
read the face at a distance and get it all at a glance. The book
compels you to thumb the leaves.

Smile, you son-of-a-gun, smile!

_If I Knew_

If I knew the box where the smiles are kept,
No matter how large the key,
Or strong the bolt, I would try so hard
'Twould open, I know, for me.
Then over the land and sea, broadcast,
I'd scatter the smiles to play,
That the children's faces might hold them fast
For many and many a day.

If I knew a box that was large enough
To hold all the frowns I meet,
I would like to gather them, every one,
From nursery, school and street.
Then, folding and holding, I'd pack them in,
And, turning the monster key,
I'd hire a giant to drop the box
To the depths of the deep, deep sea.

"Can you tell me what a smile is?" asked a gentleman of a little girl.

"Yes, sir; it's the whisper of a laugh."

SMOKING

"Have a cigar?"

"No--don't smoke now."

"Sworn off?"

"Nope; stopped entirely."

"Your wife doesn't kick about your smoking up the curtains."

"Nope, she can't have both curtains and coupons."

It was on a passenger train. The conductor in passing through observed
a man with a cigar in his mouth. "Hey, you can't smoke in here," he
bawled out.

"I'm not smoking," quietly replied the passenger.

"Well, you've got a cigar in your face," shot back the conductor.

"Suppose I have," continued the other good naturedly. "I've got feet
in my shoes and I'm not walking."

_Mark Twain: A Pipe Dream_

Well I recall how first I met
Mark Twain--an infant barely three
Rolling a tiny cigarette
While cooing on his nurse's knee.

Since then in every sort of