More Toasts Part 206

More Toasts Part 206

TRADE


When they beat their swords into plowshares, the next move is to beat their compet.i.tors into foreign markets.


TRADE MARKS


Most of the wrinkles in a business mans face are trademarks.


TRADE UNIONS


TEACHER--"If a man gets four dollars for working eight hours a day, what would he get if he worked ten hours a day?"


JOHNNY--"Ten hours a day? Hed get a call-down from de union."


"What are you doin of, James?"


"Sharpenin a bit o pencil."


"Youll ave the Union after you, me lad. Thats a carpenters job,"


TRAMPS


TRAMP--"Madam, I was at the front--"


KIND-HEARTED LADY--"My poor man. Another victim of that terrible war.


Heres a dollar. Tell me how you got into these straits."


TRAMP-"I was going to say that I was at the front door an n.o.body answered, so I came around to the back. Thankee, mum."


MRS. SUBBUBS (to tramp)--"Out of work, are you? Then youre just in time. Ive a cord of wood to be cut up and I was just going to send for a man to do it."


TRAMP--"That so, mum? Where does he live? Ill go and get him."


BOXCAR HARRY--"Beg pardon, maam, but do you happen to have some pie or cake that you could spare an unfortunate wanderer?"


LADY OF THE HOUSE--"No, Im afraid not. Wouldnt some bread and b.u.t.ter do?"


BOXCAR HARRY--"As a general rule it would, maam; but, you see, this is my birthday."


TRAVELERS


A party of tourists were going through a small town, having the time of their lives, laughing and joking. One of them thought she would have some fun, and called to a little girl standing near, "Are there any shows in town?" To which the little girl answered, "Only the one you people are making."


The value of travel oftentimes depends upon who travels.


Mrs. Williams, who had recently returned from abroad, was attending an afternoon tea given in her honor.


"And did you actually go to Rome?" asked the hostess.


"I really dont know, my dear," replied Mrs. Williams. "You see, my husband always bought the tickets."


_See also_ Americans; Destination.


TREES


I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree.


A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earths most flowing breast.


A tree that looks at G.o.d all day And lifts her leafy arms to pray;


A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair;


Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain.


Poems are made by fools like me, But only G.o.d can make a tree.


--_Joyce Kilmer_.