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About The west shore. (Portland, Or.) 1875-1891 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 11, 1890)
WEST SHORE. 185 DON'T BLAME HIM. "Oh, dear! dear!" "What's the matter?" " Why, just at I looked at that man a gnat flew in my eye, and I had to wink." "Well?" " Well, he winked, too." ECONOMICAL. " I think we'll make oar own soap here after," remarked Mrs. Snodgrasa. " Where will yon get your lye? " asked her husband. " From yon ! " and Snodgrass, who bad juit been explaining his late return the night before, glned his eyes to the morning paper. " Yoor generosity deserves a prompt re turn," wrote the editor on the back of a man uscript and addressed an envelope to the donor. THE COUNTY FAIR. Great yellow posters stare from fences round, That tell of wonders at Die county fair. Then comes the day. Both maid and mal rem bear Green tidies, quilts, lamp mats and broidered gownd, And place them where they never can be found. The farmer brings his biggeBt squashes there, Which, with potato, cabbage, apple, pear, Would even Mother Ceres much astound. Within the pens the ram with horn that curls, Fat hog and cow compete to draw a crowd. Gaunt youths with broad brim hats and high heel boots Chew ginger bread and gum with giggling girls; While from the track vociferations loud Are mingled with the band's discordant toots. H. L. W. SHE SMILED TOO HEARTILY. Jack And did Miss Sweetfigures smile upon your suit? Jim Smile ! She did more she laughed at It ! AT THE PENITENTIARY. Warden Well, what would you like to work at while you are here? New Arrival At my own trade, if you please, sir. Warden What is that? New Arrival I'm an Arctic explorer, sir. Amy Mr. Dolley seems to be in a grave study. Mabel Yes ; he's buried in thought. LOVE'S LABOR LOST. T was bright autumnal weather; The golden sun bad set; Mabel and I together Were lingering even yet. The dews from heaven distilling Dropped down with noiseless flight But still we seemed unwilling To say the last good-night. We told each other stories That we had known of yore The elfin monarch's glories, The faries' magic store ; Aladdin's genii's labors, And Bluebeard's murdered wives, And Jack, whose trusty saber Cut short the giants' lives. And ever love grew stronger, With Mabel at my side; Till at the last no longer Could I my fond heart hide. I spoke; and when I ended, My cheeks with passion pale, She softly murmured " Splendid ! A splendid fairy tale!" R. H. TmiERINQTON. IT BROKE HIS HEART. Doluver Very sad suicide, that, In Rome; Count Barberinl, young, accomp-llshed- Fompano Do you mean the man who married the Bumblethorpe heiress? Doluver Yes. Fomi'ano What was the cause? Doluver Don't know exactly, but It is rumored that she absolutely refused to let him thrash her. r iv a " I- 'ffc'is lit 1pm& i Mr P'b INCREASED THE EDITION. Irate Visitor See here, I sent for a copy of your but week's issue, and you sent me a photograph of a baby. Editor Well, that's it; be was born lat week. JUST A YOUNG ONE. " They had a big tornado in Kansas while, I was there," remarked an eastern visitor to a Dakota native. " Did it drive wheat straws through inch boards?" " Not that I heard of." " Then it wasn't much of a tornado." " Who is that talking so loudly ? " "Why, that's Bobbett, the celebrated pugilist." " I never heard of his fighting anyone." " Oh, he doesn't fight; but be has Issued more newspaper challenges than any man in the world." Lumbermen and mariners keep a log book. The pig-pen is mightier than the quill. Never mind Matter. Scraps of history Battles. " Say, Ive got a fins scheme, where you can double your money in a month!" "You ought to take it to the watchmakers." " What for?" "Why, they handle all kinds of snide movements." Two attenuated specimens of the genus dude were strolling down Washington street the other day In the wake of an ex ceedingly tall and amply pro portioned dame, when one of them ventured the remark to his companion "She's tall, Fwed, Isn't she?" The Insulted annton quickly turned about, and transfixing the startled youths with her flashing eyes, said, in a deep and terrible voice "Stall-fed, eh? II you were stall-fed lor a couple of weeks maybe your clothes wouldn't flop around like Mother Hub bard wrappers on pair of broomsticks." IDEAS ARE DEAR. She looked at him, With gate that might Well charm the heart Of an anchorite, And softly said, With smile so sweet, A saint would draw To her tiny feet, "I've an Idea" A ruth of love Too strong to hold Came o'er his heart And made him bold. He selied her hand And slowly said While coyly drooped Her gold-crowned head. " You've two eyes, dear." W. NO PROSPECT OK IT. " No," said the man, " I can't give nuthln'. Charity begins to hum, you know." " It will be a long time before your charity la lively enough to hum," replied the collector. HER NOTIONS OF GRAMMAR. Mihs n Hen And those dear little squirrels that sorted under the hedge last summer, where are they now? Miks Rustic Oh, they're holed up for Die win ter. Mms i Hub Ugh I My dear, your notions of grammar make me shiver; I presume you mean held up. A BRUTE. He (looking dreamily Into Ills cnp)-What's this?-A miracle? She (Indignantly) Why, no; that's coffee, and good colTee, too! Hs-Well, Isn't that miracle?