Pickles

Dominion, Volume 29, Issue 80, 28 December 1935, Page 16

Pickles

Mrs. Riley: Are yez on callin’ turms wid your neighbour? Mrs. Murphy: Ave eoorse 1 am. She called me a thafe, an’ I called her another. fc V * Friend: Do you think you cau always please young girls with your predictions? Fortune Teller: Yes: all I have to do is to tell them they are to be married. * * * Proud Father “I already give my son a good allowance, and I am now wondering how to give him a really good start.” Friend: “That’s easy. Just tell him you’ve stopped his allowance.” “I made a blunder ’ to-day,” said a young doctor to his wife. “What was it?” said wifie, anxiously. "I absent-mindedly signed my name en a death certificate in the space marked ‘Cause of death.’ ” $ » * “I wonder the landlord doesn’t do something to repair this deplorable block of flats.” “Well, he was going to do something about it until he went on a tour to Naples and saw the ruins of Pompeii*. Now he thinks this isn’t too bad.” * * * To a tramp who wanted to eiwn a bite a woman said:— ‘lf I thought you were honest, I’d let you go to the chicken house and gather the eggs.” “Lady,” he replied with dignity, “I was manager at a swimming baths for fifteen years and never took a bath." * * » Sandy began to fumble in his pocket. “That’s all right, sir,” said the dentist; “you don’t need to pay me in advance.” Sandy sniffed. "I’m not going to,” he replied; “I’m only counting ma siller before you gi’e me the gas.”

Au old farmer found himself and a bishop travelling in the same railway compartment.

"Curate, are you?” he asked. "Well,” replied the bishop modestly, “I was once.”

‘Drink, I suppose?” said the farmer, sympathetically.

“H’tn,” the publisher murmured. “Your handwriting’s so indistinct I can hardly read these poems of yours. Why didn’t you type them before bringing them to me?”

“Type ’em?” the would-be poet gasped. “D’you think I’d waste my time writing poetry if I could type?”

An Army camp in Sussex was near the orchard of a village rectory.

The rector thought the fruit might be too great a temptation for the soldiers, so be took down his “Trespassers will be prosecuted” board, and put up another: "These apples are being kept for Harvest Festival.” Next morning the trees were stripped, and to the notice-board had been added: “All is safely gathered in.”

Amelia had been courting for years, but her young man never mentioned marriage. Finally, her father decided to take matters in hand.

Meeting the young man at the gate one evening, he growled: “When arc you going to take Amelia?”

"Well,” came the astonishing reply, "it’s awfully kind of you. I’ll _be pleased to come for a bite any time you like.”

The little man furtively entered the florist’s shop. "I want three potted geraniums,” he whispered to the assistant.

The latter shook his head. “I’m afraid we are right out of geraniums at the moment,” he replied. “I can let you have some very nice potted chrysanthemums.”

“No, they won’t do,” replied the little man, looking more worried than ever. “I wanted the geraniums to replace some I had promised my wife to water while she was away."