It was published in 1938.
Here are a few choice excerpts:
Billy Sunday was once preaching at Los Angeles about discarding false gods and idols. After the sermon, Charlie Chaplin came up, and when Sunday shook hands with him, Bill said:wait. his moustache... was fake?
"Well, Charlie, where is that moustache?"
Quick as a flash Chaplin answered:
"It was false, Billy, so I discarded it."
Fine music and fine poultry were two things of which little Ella's father was very fond. Recently he bought a phonograph and among other records was one of a very brilliant aria by a great coloratura soprano. The baby listened closely to the runs of the bewildering music until the singer struck some high appreggios and trills at the close, when she exclaimed:hooo! Poultry!
"Daddy, listen! She's laid an egg!"
Former President Taft told this story on himself. "There is a lad of my acquaintance in New Haven," he said, "who used to bite his nails. 'See Here,' said his nurse to him one day, 'if you keep biting your nails like that, do you know what will happen to you?'HAHAHAHAHA. Taft was fat.
'No,' said the youngster. 'What?'
'You'll swell up like a balloon and burst.'
'The boy believed his nurse. He stopped biting his nails at once. About a month after the discontinuance of his habit he encountered me at a luncheon. He surveyed me with stern disapproval. Then he walked over and said to me accusingly:
'You bite your nails!'"