She Sleeps Alone At Last.

Sunday Morning May Be Cheery Enough, With Its Extra Cup Of Coffee And Litter Of Sunday Newspapers, But There Is Always Hanging Over It The Ominous Threat Of 3 P.m., When The Sun Gets Around To The Back Windows And Life Stops Dead In Its Tracks.

If Shakespeare Were Alive Today And Writing Comedy For The Movies, He Would Be The Head-liner For The Mack Sennett Studios.

I Don't Want To Be An Alarmist, But I Think That The Younger Generation Is Up To Something.... I Base My Apprehension On Nothing More Definite Than The Fact That They Are Always Coming In And Going Out Of The House, Without Any Apparent Reason.

One Cubic Foot Less Of Space And It Would Have Constituted Adultery.

I Never Liked Bananas Much Anyway. Two-thirds Of The Way Down Even One Banana I Am Willing To Concede Defeat Smilingly And Give The Rest To The Nearest Monkey.