ad taken half they suggested they could have
sold me to a junk dealer and got good money.

That evening our next door neighbor, Bud Taylor, came in and
advised me to take quinine and whiskey every time I felt a shooting
pain.

I took his advice, but at the end of the first hour the score was
98 to 37 in favor of the shooting pains, and the whiskey had such
an effect on the quinine that it made the germs jealous, so between
them they cooked up a little black man who advised me to chase Bud
out of the house, which I did by throwing medicine bottles at him.

That night the whiskey and quinine held a director's meeting with
the germs and then they wound up with a sort of Mardi Gras parade
through my system.

I was the goat!

When daylight broke I was a total wreck, and I swore that the next
person that said whiskey and quinine to me would get all his.

After breakfast another friend of ours, Jack Gibson, blew in, and
after he looked me over his weary eye fell on the decanter.

Then Jack smacked his lips and whispered that the best cure for the
grip was a glass of whiskey and quinine every time I felt chills
and fever, and he'd be glad to join me.

When loving hands picked Jack up at the bottom of the stairs he was
almost insulted, but he quieted down when my wife explained to him
that I was suffering not only from the grip but that I had also a
slight attack of jiu jitsu.

After weeks of study devoted to the subject I have come to the
conclusion that the only way to cure the grip is to stay sick until
you get better.

That's what I did!

JOHN HENRY ON COURTING

Are you wise to the fact that everything is changing in this old
world of ours, and that since the advent of fuss-wagons even the
old-fashioned idea of courtship has been chased to the woods?

It used to be that on a Saturday evening the young gent would draw
down his six dollars worth of salary and chase himself to the
barber shop, where the Dago lawn trimmer would put a crimp in his
moustache and plaster his forehead with three cents worth of hair
and a dollar's worth of axle-grease.

Then the young gent would go out and spread 40 cents around among
the tradesmen for a mess of water-lilies and a bag of peanut
brittle.

The lilies of the valley were to put on the dining-room table so
mother would be pleased, and with the peanut brittle he intended to
fill in the weary moments when he and his little geisha girl were
not making googoo eyes