Part 19

The possessor of the forty-dollar suit took hold of one of the coat sleeves of the ten-dollar suit and pulled on it. It stretched. Then straightening up he said:

"See here, boy, the fust big rain yo' gets ketched out in dat coat of yourn is gwine to say, 'Good-by, nigger, f'om now on I'se gwine to be yo' vest.'"

* * *

"Do you think I shall live until I'm ninety, doctor?"

"How old are you now?"

"Forty."

"Do you drink, gamble, smoke, or have you any vices of any kind?"

"No. I don't drink, I never gamble, I loathe smoking; in fact, I haven't any vices."

"Well, good heavens, what do you want to live another fifty years for?"

* * *

"I say, Madge, it's bitterly cold. Hadn't you better put something on your chest?"

"Don't worry, old thing. I've powdered it three times."

* * *

_Father:_ "Well, son, you certainly made a fool of yourself! That girl robbed you of every cent you had."

_Son:_ "Well, dad, you have to hand it to me for picking them clever."