NOTHING SERIOUS.

Cromwell Argus, Volume L, Issue 2641, 22 September 1919, Page 7

NOTHING SERIOUS.

Willie : "Dad, what is idle cariosity ?" Dad : "The busiest thing in the world, Willie." SWINDLED. The penny tickets for the Pony-and-Trap Raffle were selling in thousands. McGregor wasn't having any, however. He called the whole thing a swindle. Eventually his friends persuaded him to buy one ticket. Who should win the pony but McGregor ! When the prize was brought to him, he surveyed it gloomily, and finally said : "I telt ye the whole thing was a swindle !" "What's the matter ?" asked his friends. "Where's the whip ?" hissed McGregor. Mrs. Mix : "There was a time when you minded what I said, but now it's like water on a duck's back —in at one ear and out at the other." NO ENCOURAGEMENT. For the first three years of their married life the wife's mother had lived with the young couple. Then one morning, without even stopping to pack, hubby fled. The young wife rushed up stairs and told the news to her mother. "I suppose some nasty low woman is responsible for his leaving you !" said the latter. "Yes, mother," said the sorrowing wife ; "there was a woman in it.'' "Her name !" demanded the good woman, palpitating like aji enraged motor omnibus. "You, mother !" came the whispered reply. "Me ! Well, I'm sure I never gave him any encouragement !"

"Jack proposed in a motor-car." "Indeed !" "And I accepted him in the hospital."

PLAYING POSTMAN

Little Willie, age sis, was missed by his mother one day for some time, and when he reappeared she asked : '-'Where have you been, my son ?" "Playing postman,'' replied Willie. "I gave a letter to all the houses in our street. Real letters, too." "Where on earth did you get them, Willie ?" questioned his mother in amazement. "They were those old ones in your wardrobe-drawer tied up with ribbon," was the innocent reply. "I'm sorry to have to do this," said Johnny, as he spread the jam on the cat's face ; "but I can't have suspicion pointing its finger at me." Included among the passengers on board a ship crossing the Atlantic recently was a man who stuttered. One day he went up to the captain of the ship to speak to him. "S-s-s-s-s," stuttered the man. "Oh, I can't be bothered," said the captain angrily : "go to somebody else." The man tried to speak to cveryI body on board the ship, but none could wait to hear what he had to say. At last he came to the captain again. "Look here," said the captain, "I can tell you what to do when you want to say anything ; you should sing it. Then suddenly, in a tragic voice the man commenced to sing : "Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind, The blooming cook's fell overboard and is twenty miles behind." Editor : "How's the new Society reporter ? I told him to condense as much as possible." Assistant : "He did. Here's his account of yesterday afternoon's tea : 'Mrs. Lovely poured. Mrs. Jabber roared, Mrs. Duller bored, Mrs. Hasping gored, and Mrs. Fetchem snored.' " "I should like a steak with mushrooms," said the stranger, "some delicately browned toast with plenty of butter " " 'Scuse me, sir," interrupted the waiter. "Are you tryin' to give an order, or arc you reminiscin' about old times ?" The CO. of the regiment, while entering the barracks, noticed in front of him a N.C.O. who returned, contrary to all Army regulations, the salute of a raw recruit. The N.C.O. was summoned to the Orderly-room, where the CO. demanded to know what he meant by returning a salute to which he knew he was not entitled. The N.C.O. promptly replied : "Sir, I always return that to which I am not entitled.'' Taken unawares by this smart reply, the officer dismissed him laughingly.

On the range a party of recruits were firing their first course. The sergeant in charge noticed that one of them —a man named Smith was missing the target every time. At last, quite fed up with the man's had firing, the sergeant went across to him and told him to go and shoot himself. The man disappeared. A few seconds later a report was heard from the spot where Smith had gone to. The sergeant hurried to the spot and shouted, "Are you there, Smith ?" "Yes, sergeant," came the reply. "I've missed again !"

Unable Seaman : "When I come round again the s-urgeon 'e says to me, 'l'm blooming sorry, mate, I don't know what I was thinking about,' he says, 'but there's a sponge missin', and I believe it's inside yer.' 'What's the odds ?* I says. 'Let it be.' And there it is to this day." Gullible Old Gentleman : "Bless my soul !" i Unable Seaman : "I don't feel no particular pain from it, but I do get most uncommonly thirsty."