When The Political Columnists Say

The Rich Man Has His Motorcar, His Country And His Town Estate, He Smokes A Fifty-cent Cigar And Jeers At Fate. He Frivols Through The Livelong Day, He Knows Not Poverty, Her Pinch. His Lot Seems Light, His Heart Seems Gay; He Has A Cinch. Yet Though My Lamp Burns Low And Dim, Though I Must Slave For Livelihood- Think You That I Would Change With Him? You Bet I Would!

Elections Are Won By Men And Women Chiefly Because Most People Vote Against Somebody Rather Than For Somebody.

An Extravagance Is Something You Buy Which Is No Earthly Use To Your Wife.

There Is No Accounting For Tastes, As The Woman Said When Someone Told Her Her Son Was Wanted By The Police.

We Deny That It Is Fun To Be Saving. It Is Fun To Be Prodigal. Go To The Butterfly, Thou Parsimonious Sluggard; Consider Her Ways And Get Wise.