MERRIER MOMENTS.

Auckland Star, Volume XLIX, Issue 57, 23 February 1918, Page 14

MERRIER MOMENTS.

He: The girl- who marries mc must have a sense of humour. She: And a queer one at that.

"The pen is mightier than the sword!" " Isn't it about time the ink got a little of the credit?"

Mistress: "How do you manage to make such a noise in the kitchen?" Cook: "Well, ju6t you try to break four plates without making a noise."

Hie Financial Measure.—Lady (entering bank, very business-like): " I wish to get a Liberty Loan bond for my husband." Clerk: "What size, please?" Lady: "Why, I don't believe I know exactly, but he wears a fifteen shirt,"

A SURE WINNER

Boy: "Want to buy a dog, mister!" Man: " What kind of a dog?" Boy: "Oh, he's a winner all right! He's part Irish terrier, part English bull, part. French poodle, and part Italian greyhound."

PATENT REVERSIBLE.

A Fatherland Poet was . busy of late In making the Kaieer a new Hymn of Hate; Perhaps ere ite echoes have time to grow dim, The Hung may be learning a new Hate of Him.

OBSOLETE PLEASANTRY.

"Where's that old joke about hash?" inquired the man who had just returned from an exploration. "Hash?" repeated the landlord. "Oh, yes! There wae once a time' when people could afford to eat meat and potatoes and onions all at once."

PAT'S PRECAUTIOX.

Mrs. Casey: Mc sister writes mc that every bottle in that box we sent her was broken. Are you sure yez printed "This side up with oare" on it? Caeey: Oi am. An' for fear they shouldn't see it on the top Oi printed it on the bottom as well.

SOME KECENT "HOWLERS."

Who wee Benaiah, the son of Jehoida? —He was a big, strong, heavy man. This we learn from the fact that he fell upon Shemiei, who died.

What is a trill (musical term) ?—A trill is a wriggle on two notes.

Who was John Wycliffe?—John -Wycliffe translated the Bible and sent out bare footmen to preach it. What is the feminine of peacock?— Weathercock.

WAITED TO VIZUALISE IT.

She cycled up to the butcher's shop and came in with a smiling face. "I want you to cut mc off twenty-five pounds of beef, please," she said.

The butcner was incredulous. "Twenty-five pounds?"

"Yes, please."

When he had finished, he asked her whether she would take it or have it sent home.

"Oh, I don't want to buy it!" she explained. "You see, my doctor tells mc I have lost twenty-five pounds of flesh through war-work, and I wanted to see what it looke like in a lump. Thank you so much."

A LIVELY JOB.

"Poor laddie," said the lady to the hotel elevator boy, "don't you* find this work rather trying ane monotonous?" "Not at all, ma'am. I like it. It's full of excitement. First of all, there's always the funny people coming in and out. Then there's ofEer things. Only yesterday a man tried to get out before the elevator was dow« and cracked, his skull. Then last week the machine broke, and the thing came straight down from the sixth floor to the bottom, and everybody was hurt 'cept mc. This here rope, too, looks a bit weak, but if 11 probably last till we get up, though I don't know what we'll do if it doesn't, 'cos the engineman is away till to-day, and hie helper is just married, and I'm in charge of everything, and I don't know nothing about it. So it ain't really what you'd call a dull life, is it!"

PURITY OF THE LAW.

At Bodmin Assizes once, a barrister, while pleading, was interrupted by the' judge:—

"Mr. Carter, you are wasting the time of the Court."

"Time of the Court!" retorted the truculent veteran, glaring fiercely at the bench. "Your Lordship means—your Lordship's dinner!"

The judge threw up his hands in despair, and Carter continued his harangue in peace.

The same redoubtable advocate was on another occasion defending a man charged with obtaining money under false pretencee.

"False pretences!" said he, with fine scorn. "Why, we all make them every day, barristers and solicitors and judges —the whole lot of us. Talk of the purity of the judicial ermine!" Here he pointed derisively to the learned judge, who sat cowering on the bench. "Why, it's only rabbit skin!"

Shouts of laughter greeted this irreverent statement, which investigation would probably show to be literally true

GETTING AT IT.

Henri had done his duty as a poilu, as was clearly evident from the empty left sleeve of his coat; and after completing convalescence, he resumed civilian work with his old employers.

During his two years' contact with British Tommies his smattering of English had developed into a fair knowledge of the language; so when his chief asked him if he could undertake business with a customer in London, he relied confidently, "Yes, yes."

He made the Channel crossing, ani had no difficulty in getting the right train for London. Owing to the unfortunate mischance that his firm had omitted to advise the Englishman of the proposed visit, when he called at that gentleman's house the following morning, he was unknown to the-maid.

"Is your master in, please miss?" he asked politely.

"Yes, sir," came the reply, "but he is not up yet."

"Oh, I understand—yet I do not understand," faltered Henri. "May I not see him?"

"Please call again in about an hour," said the maid, graciously; and Henri, after bowing profusely, walked away. When he again presented himself at the door, he asked, with a hopeful smile, "Ib your master—er —up yet?" and was completely nonplussed when he received the reply:—

"Yes, sir, but he is not down yet." "Then pray pardon mc, miss, if I Btupid am," pleaded the mystified but determined Henri. "But an hour ago you tell mc your master is in, but not up—and now you say he is up but not down! Can you tell mc, please—when will he be in zee middle?"