nd make up, and the wedding bells would ring
just as soon as Oscar's salary grew large enough to tease a
pocketbook.

But these days the idea is altogether different.

Children are hardly out of the cradle before they are arrested for
butting into the speed limit with a smoke wagon.

Even when they go courting they have to play to the gallery.

Nowadays Gonsalvo H. Puffenlotz walks into the parlor to see Miss
Imogene Cordelia Hoffbrew.

"Wie gehts, Imogene!" says Gonsalvo.

"Simlich!" says Imogene, standing at right angles near the piano
because she thinks she is a Gibson girl.

"Imogene, dearest," Gonsalvo continues; "I called on your papa in
Wall Street yesterday to find out how much money you have, but he
refused to name the sum, therefore you have untold wealth!"

Gonsalvo pauses to let the Parisian clock on the mantle tick, tick,
tick!

He is making the bluff of his life you see, and he has to do even
that on tick.

Besides, this furnishes the local color.

Then Gonsalvo bursts forth again, "Imogene! Oh! Imogene! Will you
be mine and I will be thine without money and without the price."

Gonsalvo pauses to let this idea get noised about a little.

Then he goes on, "Be mine, Imogene! You will be minus the money
while I will have the price!"

Gonsalvo trembles with the passion which is consuming his
pocketbook, and then Imogene turns languidly from a right angle
triangle into more of a straight front, and hands Gonsalvo a bitter
look of scorn.

Then Gonsalvo grabs his revolver and, aiming it at her marble brow,
exclaims, "Marry me this minute or I will shoot you in the
top-knot, because I love you."

Then papa rushes into the room and Gonsalvo politely requests the
old gentleman to hold two or three bullets for him for a few
moments.

Gonsalvo then bites deeply into a bottle of carbolic acid and just
as the Coroner climbs into the house the pictures of the modern
lover and loveress appear in the newspapers, and fashionable
Society receives a jolt.

This is the new and up-to-date way of making love.

However, I think the old style of courting is the best, because you
can generally stop a jag before it gets to the undertaker.

What do you think?

JOHN HENRY ON SUMMER RESORTS

Me for that summer resort gag--Oh! fine!

I fell for a Saratoga set-back this summer but never no more for
mine.

At night I used to sit up with the rest of the social push and
drink highballs to make me