Merrier Moments

Auckland Star, Volume XLVII, Issue 49, 26 February 1916, Page 17

Merrier Moments

"Jones has offered to Bell his motorcar at a low figure." "Which is broke, Jones or the machine I" "Young man, ■we need brains in our business." "I know you do. That's why I'm looking for a job here." Schoolmistress: "Well, Freddie, dear, what did you learn yesterday?" New Boy (after deep thought): "You ougnt to know—you teached mc." Little Jimmy (looking up from his picture book): "I say, ma, am I descended from monkeys?" Mr. Growler (with emphasis) : "Not on my side of the house, Jimmy!" "If you want eggs to keep, they must be laid in a cool place," said a mistress to her servant. "I'll mention it to the hens at once, ma'am," replied the domestic. A CASE OF CRUELTY. " An irato mother had her little son by the ear, and held a menacing cane. "I'll teach you to tie a kettle to the cat's tail," said the mother. "It wasn't-our cat," said the boy. "No, it wasn't, but it was our kettle," said the mother.

WHEN WOMEN GET THEIR RIGHTS. Househusband: "Yes, I'll give you a good, square meal after you saw some wood." Trampetto: "My back's too lame, but, instead, I could lecture on Suffrage before your literary society."

THE INSPECTOR WAS "STUCK." \ An inspector was visiting a country school. He wan asking some of the children questions. After a while he said to a junior class: "Now, I want some of you to ask mc a question that I can't answer." After a few vain attempts a small boy said: "Please, sir, if you were stuck in a pool of mud up to your neck, and a brick wn.'s thfown at..ybur head, would you duck?" POINTED EVIDENCE. Little Clara's parents often discuss reincarnation, and the small maiden has acquired »omc of the phraseology. "Mamma," she said one day: "My kitten must have been a paper of pins in a previous state of existence." "Why do you think so?" asked her mother. "Because I can feel some of them in her toes yet," was the logical reply. TWO CONVERSATIONS. (In a New York Bar Saloon.) "Say!" cried a glad-eyed American dude oil Easy Street to his friend, Van Iloutcn, son of a big dough handler down town, "who was the moss-rose I saw 70U two-stepping with about egg-and-niilk time on Broadway this bright morn?" "Why," re'pliea . Van, "just one of Hammcrstcin's 'third-row stunts at twenty dollars per. Guess as a goodlooker she wins by many blocks and then some." Dude: "Is that so? Reckon you'd side-tracked her if Pops had happened on to you." Van: "Sure thing! He'd made mc rattle-step for Home, Sweet —say, bartender, is this a booze joint or a laze ground for hoboes? Get busy with, the throat-coolors !" Dude: "Wai, Van, you've gotten the goods right there. Shall you make good and give mc the invite to the •Wilt laou? I wilt!' scene?" Van: "Not for mine! Although, as a passer-out of the kiss-kiss, hers are all No. 4 size, and they cling -at that; but Pops would hand mc the ice pitcher, likewise the frozen mit, should I win. out with anything 'but a cracker on Madison Square and a Boston accent." Dude: "Shall wo flag hop it way down to Deltnonico's?" Van: "Sure!"

Her Father: "Blanche, why doesn't Mr Linger go home earlier?" Blanche: "I'm wiry, dad." "How could Maude descend to marrying a mere circus contortionist f" "She wanted a man she could twist round her finger." Prison Warder: "We try to get every inmate work with which he is familiar. What's your trade?" New Prisoner: "I'm a professional pedestrian." . - "Henry, how do you like my new hat?" "Well, dear.to tell the truth " "Stop them! If you're going to talk that way about it, Henry, I don't want to kpow!" Eriend: "That .new gardener seems to be a very hard worker." Suburbanite: "Yes, that , B his speciality." Friend: "What? Working V Suburbanite: "No, seeming to." NOT FAIEI TO LOOK TJPOK. Traveller: Porter, have I time to kiss my wife good-by? Porter: The lady in gray over there, 6ir? Traveller: Yes. Porter: You have time enough, oil right. TIME NO OBJECT. An American post office official was ence making a motoring tour of inspection through Southern Utah. That State employs some of its coavicts in the construction of roads. While on a narrow road the party stopped at a shallow creek, which they were about to ford, in order to put water in the radiator. A convict, hauling a load of crashed 6tone, pulled up behind them. The chauffeur was delayed a bit, and Mr. Burgees turned to the convict, saying apologetically: — "We'll pass on in just a moment." "Oh, I'm in no hurry," the convict placidly replied. "I've got twenty years." ROOSEVELT (JN WILSON. (Lines from an unwritten poem.) He never touches any meat; Cuuucd beans arc what he loves to eat; lie dare not drink Ills grape-Juice neat; lIU lire-blood has no more of heat Than you can find lv driving sleet. He thinks In his profound conceit TtuU he U of the world's elite; He Is disgustingly discreet; His policy, half blulT, half bleat. Invariably spells retreat. I've rearrbed the lexicon of Skeat In vain for epithets to treat, * In any manner lit and meet, This acid iiriK. inane, effete, 'Who ,-:iin, lv mine and Lincoln's scat. So when I see him th 'J'lio pedant absolute, complete, Klsh-like ami sialic from head to feet, 1 lons to batter, bash, and beat * This blamed Byzintlne Logothcte!

(In a London Saloon Bar.) Gilded Youth: "I say, Harold, dear old fellow, who was the awfully jolly little creature in a taxi with you this morning—what?" Harold: "Oh—cr—that was Cissy,you know. She's just got on at the Empire. Awfully pretty—what!" Gilded Youth: "Awfully, rather. Lucky the Pater didn't see you, dear old sportsman." Harold: "Rather, awfully. The Guvnor, you know, is frightfully down on anything that hasn't a pedigree. Would cut mc off with a shilling, and all that sort of rot, don't you know." Gilded Youth: "Really?" Harold: "Yes. Wairts mc to , marry into some beastly fearful county family—makes mc thiraty to think of it. I sny, iliss Mo/bel, would you please give ire two more gins and Angostura. Thanks awfully." Gilded Youth: "Awful bores, Guv*nora are, aren't they—what?" » Harold: "Rather. Shall we take a breather down to the Carlton?" Gilded Youth: "I'm yours, dear old thing."