WIT AND HUMOUR.

Evening Post, Volume LVI, Issue 98, 22 October 1898, Page 2 (Supplement)

WIT AND HUMOUR.

THE WAV WARS BEGIN. Tommy vas reading the war news. When lie fiuished lie came over to bis mother and said : — • Mamma, how do ware begin?' ' Woll. suppose the English hauled down the American ilag, and that the Americans ' Here Tommy's father intervened. 'My dear, ' he said, ' the English would not ' Mother : ' Excuse me, they would ' * Now, dear, who ever heard of such a thing ?' ' Pray do not interrupt !' 'But you are giving Tommy a wrong idea!' 1 I'm not, sir !' ' You are, madam !' * Don't call me madam 1 I won't allow you !' ' I'll call you what I choose !' ' I'm sorry I ever saw you 1 you are so ' Tommy (going out) : ' It's all right ; I think I know how wars begin.' AN HONEST KING. Whoever reads the following must own to a feeling of respect for the honest King. King Frederick VI. of Denmark, while travelling through Jutland, one day entered a village school, and found the children lively and intelligent, and quite ready to answer his questions. 'Well, youngsters,' he said, 'what are the namea of the greatest Kings of Denmark ?' With one accord they cried out, ' Canute the Great, Waldemar, and Christian IV.' Just then a little girl, to whom the schoolmaster had whisperel something, stood up and raised her hand. 'Do you know another ?' asked the King. « Yes, Frederick Vl.' ' What great act did he perform P' The girl hung her head, and stammered out, ' I don't know.' ' Be comforted, my child,' said the King, ' I don't know either.' THAT WAS THE QUESTION. Sandy Me , a Forfarshire farmer, had been spending an hour or two in the evening with a friend a couple of miles away. It was a moonlight night, and Sandy, after partaking freely of his friend's hospitality, was riding quietly home across the sheep pastures on his 'quid auld mare,' when they came to an open ditch which his mare refused to cross. ' Hoot awa', Maggie,' said the rider, ' this winna dae. Ye maun jist gang ower.' Ho turned back about a hundred yards, wheeled round, and gave the mare a touch of his whip. On she went at a brisk ennter ; but juat aB they reached the edge of the ditch she stopped dead, and shot Sandy clean over to the other side. Gathering himself up, Sandy looked his mare straight in the face, and said: — 'Vera weel pitched, indeed, ma lass. But hoo are yo goin' B to get ower yersel', eh?' TAKING DOWN THE CAPTAIN. A former commodore-captain of a famous Transatlantic line, whilst friendly and polite to his passengers when below, wub very much the reverse if approached when on duty. As he happened to be on deck one fine afternoon, a lady, quite unaware of this peculiarity, accosting him with some trifling query aa to the probable duration of the favourable weather, was both surprised and indignant to get curtly answered : — ' Don't know, ma'am— don't know. Better go and ask the cook.' The lady, though somewhat taken aback, was quite equal to the occasion, and rejoiued: — ' Oh ! I beg a thousand pardons. Exouse me, pray. * I thought I was addressing the cook!' Ho is a wise man who never lets his wife know that he can put up shelve* as well <ip a carpenter. • Mamma, what is classical rauaio ? ' ' Oh ! Don't you know ? It's the kind you have to like whether you like it or not.' The more wealth a man has, the more difficult is it for him to find out what people really think about him. Don't bo afraid to push your way in the world. The riphest man now living* was born without a penny in his pocket. 'It is said,' said one girl, 'that many men nowadays have a great deal more money than bruina.' ' Yes,' sighed another, ' and so little money at that.' Turner : What became of that girl to whom you wore so ordent a suitor P Downs (ruefully) : Clear case of mistaken identity. I didn't suit her. Arthur: Are you sure sho loves you? Jack : Yes. When I told her I had no money to marry on, she asked me if I couldn't borrow some. Od L dy (to policeman at the corner) : 'I wutit tho Jjank of England.' Polite Policeman : • I'm afraid I can't let you have it, mum.' 'Yes, air,' said fcho man in Cell 711, ' time was when I was admitted to the very best houses.' 'And what brought you here P' They caught me coming out.' Fred : There seems to be v lot more fuss mudo of Mias A.'s singing- than of Miss Kb, and I am suvo Mi«s K. has by far tho richer voice. Jack: Ah, yes, but Miss A. lias by far tho rioher father. ProfofiHor : Too bad ! One of ray pupils to whom I have given two oourses of instruct'on in the cultivation of the memory has forgotten to pay me, and the worst of it is, I otin't remember his name.' Goorgo. Wuabington, in his best estate, could not, suye a 'victim,' have been more truthful than tho author of tho following sign on a farmhouse window : ' Summer Hoarders Tttkou In.' ' Before wo wero married you used to write me .thgflo letters a day.' < Did I, roally ?' ' Yes, you did ; and now you get angry juat beeauee I ask you to write me a little bit of a cheque.' A, email damsel of twelve who disliked boys wrote un enaay upon them, in which she said: 'If I had my way half tho boys in tho world would bo girls, and the other half would be dolls.' 'Ladies and gontleinen,' said an Irish manager to an audience of three, 'aa there is nobody here I'll dismiss you all. The performance of this night will not be perfoiined, but will be repeated to-morrow evening.' Mrs. Taddells : Lot's see ! Susie Dimpling is about twouty years old, isn't Bho p Mrs. Wiflios : Susie Dimpling twenty ! Susie Dimpling will never see twenty again if who livos to be eighty. , George 111. wondering how the apple got into the dumpling is nothing to the small boy who, looking botween two nnout leaves of a magazine, f-aid, ' Mammy, how did they ever get tho printing 1 in there P' Olorgyman (showing a lady urouud the ohuroh) : Now, madam, you have seen the organ, the font, and the nave. I should next like to conduot you to the altar. Lady Visitor : Oh, thin is ho Hudden. Mrs. Lawnville: Which would yon rather do to-day — go to school or help me in the garden P Little Boy : I'd rather go to school. Mrs. Lawnville : Would you ? why P Little Boy : 'Cause teacher's ill, and there ain't agoiu' to be any. Mr. Portor was a smart, brisk, middleaged baohelor. One day at a lawn-tennis party ho was introduced to a widow, who, by a curious chance, happened to bear the same name as himself. He was quite equal to the ocousion. 'Mrs. Porter!' he exclaimed. 'Bless mo I The very lady that I have been in searoh of all those years 1'