MERRIER MOMENTS.

Auckland Star, Volume LIV, Issue 293, 8 December 1923, Page 18

MERRIER MOMENTS.

He: What is the cause of so __„. divorces ? ~»uj She: Marriages. "Ah, I wish I could find some p_.ee where I could be cut off entirely fro-, the world!" "Try a telephone-box." "I'd like to know one thing," began the club bore. "Don't you?" interrupted the secretary icily. Mary had a little lamb, It had no ribbon bows on. To tell the truth it had no fleeceThat little lamb was frozen. "t'eorgie. I shouldn't slide down the banisters like that." "Wouldn't you, grandma? Show mc how you'd doit." She: "What is bis hobby?" He: "Antiques." She: "Is that one" of them with him?" "What did the toothpaste say to the tooth-brush: "I will meet you outside the tube." "These jellies all seem the same ! flavour to mc. dear." Mrs. Flatbush: "But you can tell the difference by the labels.'"' Mr. Flatbush: "Possibly. 1 never thought of tasting the labels." First Diner-out: Why did you tip that boy so handsomely when he gave you your coat ? Second Ditto: Look at the coat he gave mc! Angry Customer: Waiter! How many times have I called you? Waiter (very haughtily): You'll have to keep count of that, sir. I have other things to do! He: I've made hundreds of women suffer in my time. She: Oh. what a brute you must be! He: Not at all. You see, I'm a dentist. "Do you make life-size enlargement* from photographs?"' "Yes, sir; that* one of our special lines." "Well, do one of this for mc. It's a snap I took of a whale." Johnny was doing penance in the corner. Presently he said, "I can't help it if I'm not perfect, for there's only been one perfect boy." "Who was that?" his father asked, hoping to point a moral. "You," was the plaintive reply, "when you were little." Pa: "Do you know why I am going to spank you, Tommy?" Tommy: " 'Cos I'm small. If I was as big as you and that man as called you names last night, you wouldn't touch mc."

Don't Mention It. Mother (to new nurse): "Tilly, you can't possibly .read that book and mind the baby." Tilly: "Oh, yes, ma'am, begging your pardon, I can, baby doesn't di=turd mc a bit." , ,___ The Poet and the Publisher. Once there was a poor poet, a very poor poet, whose verses were published in the local parer so often that people thought he must have a pull with the editor. However, he was so proud of bis effusions that he made an arrangement with a publisher to bring them out in book-form under the title of "Parnassian Flights,'" and by the time the volume appeared the poet was out 1500 dollars. Moral—Some poets are shorn, not paid

A Little Dew. He was an Irish lover, but practically penniless. It was St. Patrick's Day; he offered bis sweetheart a pot of real Irish Shamrock. "They -were raised in the ould sod,*' he said to Biddy, 'raised in the ould sod of Oireland." "Sure. now. Murphy, how really swate of ye it is! Hon perfect and how fresh they are. Sure I do believe there's a little dew on "em yet!" Murphy flushed slightly. "Begorra. I know there is,*' he reluctantly confessed, "but, praise heaven, it'll be paid to-morrow." The Model Husband. "Did a model husband ever exist, and if he did, what has become of him?" asks the Jefferson City "Democrat-Tri-bune. "' "Occasionally there is a rumour that such a creature in still living, but when the rumour is tra.kcd back the habitat of the animal is always over in the next county. Whatever may he the virtues of the model husband, he has one that outshines all others—he doesn't advertise himself. And neither does his wife advertise him in these stirring days. She's probably as much ashamed of him as he it- of himself.'' Stopping a Back Run.

The following story comes from a town in the Far West: — There was a run on the only bank in town and the depositors were being paid in silver dollars. The excitement increased, and the run became a fast one. The work of thp cashier was more than he liked, so he resolve,! to stop it. He sent the janitor with a bushel of silver dollars into the rear room, where there was a stove, with instructions to "boat them silver dollars red hot." They were heated, and in that condition handed out with a ladle. The depositor' first grabbed the coins, then dropped them with yells, and became indignant. "'But you'll have to take them that way." said the cashier gravely. "We arc turning them out from the mint as fast a? we can melt and mould them, and if you won't wait till they cool you'll have to take them hot." That settled it The run was stopped, the bank was saved and the in.enious cashier was afterwards promptly promoted to a sphere where his _bUiti_f would have ampler scope.