St Marys College - Dial Yearbook (St Marys, KS)

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“Tell them I'll be gone for the clay.” said the lunatic as he awoke. Customer: “May I have my egg order changed to scrambled?” Waiter (ex-football star): “Signals over, break up the play. Doctor: “Congratulations, governor, you’re the father of triplets.” Governor: “I demand a recount.” WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS? I quit singing with the choir when they found out what was the matter with it. I le: “Would you paint a portrait of my late uncle. ” Him: “Bring him in.” I le: “I said my late uncle.” I Iim: “Well, bring him in when he gets here.”—Ex. Speak: “Can I—or rather—may I borrow your green and yellow tic?” Easy: “Sure: but why the formality?” Speak: “I can’t find it.”—Ex. McXamar: “Why. in my town it takes fifteen minutes to walk around the railroad station.” Wise Fellah: “Yeah—how many times?” An optimist is a guy that takes two pens to an exam. Will wonders never cease? Ye editor actually saw a Junior wearing all his own clothes to the Prom. Bill: “Why do they call her Dot?” Harrv: “She’s always trying to polka head into other people’s affairs.” OX THE FOURTH FLOOR ANNEX “Are you using your cap this afternoon?” “Yeh. why?” “Then you won’t mind lending me your hat.” If you are a Nut Sundae, you are probably a nut. Monday, too. . . . Laff that off! Treasurer: “If you want to cash this check you'll have to endorse it.” Luke: “What do you mean, endorse it?” The Treasurer explained the matter. But Luke taking pen and ink wrote on the hack of the check: “To Luke from Mother.” “There’s something big on foot.” said Hughes as he watched Doc Hayes go into the shop of the chiropodist. One Hundred inety

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tl)e ise yttzn As it will be fifty years hence: Lyle (social worker) : “And what is vour name, my good man?” Doc (convict) : “000.” Lyle: “O. but that’s not your real name.” Doc: “Xaw, that’s only my pen name.” John Ryan: “Hey. Ignatz. 1 got zero in my French course.” Ace: “That’s absolutely nothing to worry about.” English Prof: “Xever say ‘I ain’t going.’ You must say T am not going, he is not going, we are not going, they are not going.’ ” Frosh: “Ain’t nobody goiiv?” Trotsky: “You were at class this morning, weren’t you?” Redd : “Why do you ask ?” Trotsky: “Your suit looks as if you slept in it.” Prof: “How in the world do you ever expect to make a living?” Studc: “By writing.” Prof: “Writing what ?” Stude: “Writing home.” There was a young man from Calcutta, Who spoke with a sort of a stutta. I le screwed up his face, And tried to say grace, And blew his false teeth in the butta. “Jeetyet?” “No, jew?” “Yup.” Evathin’?” “Hesh.” “Wha-jeet ?” “Evathin'.” “Wha-jatnean— “Stubborn?” inquired the man from Kentucky. The muleteer wiped his forehead. “Stubborn?” he yelled. “Say, mister, that cuss is so mean that when his hind legs are pushing, his front ones are walking backwards.” Xick: “So you have to take another examination, eh. Mac? Didn’t you pass?” Mac: “Say. bo. 1 passed so well I was encored and now 1 have to do it all over again.” “This gives me a pain in the neck.” said the victim, as he mounted the scaffold. Hays: “Does Whosis belong to the four hundred?” Davey: “Yes. he’s one of the ciphers.” One Hundred. Eighty-nine

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Young Burns had just completed his course in Salesmanship. During the summer he got a joh. and here’s the report on his first “sale. Customer: “Do you mean to tell me that this stuff will remove my heard it I just pour it on my face?’’ Burns: “Absolutely! The other day the boss spilt some on the rug and we came back the next morning and found linoleum. SIX A. M. AT ST. MARY’S. AS THIS POETS WOULD PUT IT Ciiaucer A place ther ben in this fair land of ours her belles do wake the sunne at erly hours hull longe beforne his wonted tyme to ryse. And cok does quitte his dreams in grate surprvse At swich an erly morn: anon he crows His morwe-tyde; then sleepily he goes, l akes up his perche and soone ysleeps once more. But in Loyola Hall, 'pon everich floor. The College boxes are yanken out of bed Som by ther let and som eek by ther bed. 1 muc. fellow 1 loon When the sun peeps o’er the golf-course. Lifts its rim just o’er the golf-course. And dispells the ling’ring mist-clouds From the laughing golf-course creek. Then the bells do start their ringing. Well we hear their ringing starting : How we start to hear them ringing. Ringing on our sleepy hearing. Ever louder, louder, louder. Ring the bells in yard and hall Ever sadder, sadder, sadder. Grow the boys both large and small. Alas! for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun. C )h ! it is horrible. There a whole corridor-full. Sleep, they get none. I haul them out gladly. Make them dress madly. W hile their eyes constantly Ever keep closing;— Kick them out instantly. Xo shy reposing. Joe M. O’Leary. FAMOUS SAYIXGS OF FAMOUS MEX “It won’t be long now,” moaned Pete Foote, as they cut another poem from his humor column. One Hundred Ninety-one