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Such was his toil, when one night coming home, / Such swell uncivil, who'd been out to roam / In search of lark, or some delicious gig / The mind delights in, when 'tis in prime twig,

“What's Chub trying to invent now?” queried Bob, as he and Susie started around the house on the trail of Perkins. “I think it's smokeless powder,” replied Susie. “Great hanky-pank!” gasped Bob.

From the fireproof, shrinkageproof plywood house will come the intermittent buzz of the electric refrigerator keeping the farmer's frozen dessert hard till he comes in from the barn […]