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TO THE DEALER \THO \TANTS THE BEST

OVERLOOKING A GOOD BET? The Californio dealer who is not stockins and feoturins Ponderosa Pine Mouldings certainly is overlooking o sure bet. Fine, bright, kiln-dried, uniformly soft-textured, ond accurately machined, E\flAUNA KLAMATH PINE Mouldinss are buildins trade for o growing number o[ progressive California dealers. You can't lose.

HELL !

They say sometimes "It's cold as Hell." Sometimes they say "It's hot as flell."

When it rains hard "It's flell," they cry; It's also Hell when it is dry; They hate like Hell to see it snow; It's a Hell of a wind when it starts to blow; Now how in Hell can anyone tell What in Hell they mean by this word Hell?

This married life is Hell, they say; When they come home late there's Hell to pay; It's Hell when the kid you have to. tote; When he starts to bawl, it's a Hell of a note; It's Hell when the doctor sends his bills

For a Hell of a lot of trips and pills; When you get this you'll know, real well, Just what is meant by this word Hell.

Hell yes! Hell no! and Oh Helt! too; The Hell you don't ! The Hell you do !

And what in the Hell? And the Hell it is?

The Hell with yours ! The Hell with his !

Now, Who in the Hell? and Oh Hell, where?

And, What in the Hell do you think I care?

But the Hell of it is-it sure is HellWe don't know what in the Hell is Hell !

Light And Airy

"Aha, my dear Nincompoop, I see by the paper this morning that there are a tremendous number of casualties."

"Forsooth, my dear Hotsytotsy, and what paper?"

"Egad, my dear Nincompoop, the fly paper."

MOTHER'S DAY

This is Her day; though every day is hers; Brimmed as it is with urgent tasks and deeds; The dear young mother who must daily meet Small children's constant needs.

This is Her day; the mother who has seen Her children grow like young corn in the sun; Tall, straight and clean-who takes a keen delight And pride in every one.

This is Her day; the mother grown quite old, Who folds her hands and slowly rocks her chair, And nods and smiles across the gathering dusk At a child-who is not there.

This is Their day; the mothers of the world, And the whole nation pauses, as it should, To honor them who know the poignant pain; The joy of motherhood.

-Grace Noll Crowell in Church School Publications.

Her Choic

Mother: "Daughter, don't y want to be the kind of girl that people look up {q?']

Flapper: "Naw. I wan look around at.1' be the kind of girl that folks

Chronology

Conductor: "How old are you, ?,, Little Boston Girl: "If the ation doesn't object, f'd prefer to pay full fare a my own statistics."

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