WIT AND HUMOUR.
Song of the Auckland unemployed: " We don't want to work, But, by Jingo ! if do do, We'll choose our job, you'll finds us tools, And you'll give a decent screw ! " How to keep your own counsel. — Get into a Chancery suit, and you will never get rid of him. A young man calls his sweetheart "rare opportunity," because she is worthy of being embraced. The latest case of singularity of conduct recorded is that of a man who dyed for the benefit of his hair. Fashionable Wife — " Did you notice, dear, at the party last evening, how grandly our daughter Clara swept into the room." Husband (with a grunt) — " Oh, yes, Clara can sweep into a room grandly enough, but when it comes to sweeping out a room, she isn't there." "What's that you have in your hand?" asked Mrs. Gimlet of her husband, as he brought home a roll of manuscript. "Brains, madam," replied Mr. Gimlet, pompously. "Are you surprised at that fact?" " Not in the least," she replied. " I know you didn't carry them in your head." " Uncle," said a young man, who thought that his guardian supplied him rather sparingly with pocketmoney, "is the Queen's head still on the sovereign ?" "Of course it is, you stupid fellow. Why do you ask ?" " Because it is such a length of time since I saw one." Duncan M'lver, a Highland clergyman, having raised what is called an action for augmentation of stipend before Court of Session, thought proper next Sunday to apologise to his parishioners for what he had done, in the following manner: — "In the day of joodgment, the gude Lord'll say to me, ' Wha's this ye hae wi' ye the day, Duncan ? Ye hae mony ane there, Duncan.' Then I'll pc say to the gude Lord, ' They're a' your am pairns, I hae brought up for ye, ,gude Lord." He'll pc say, ' That's weel dune, Duncan, they'll nae doubt hae paid ye weel for that ? But I'll joost gie fidge, and draw up my shouthers ; for Duncan M'lver disna like to tell lies. 1 " "Pray, sir," said Lady Wallace to David Hume, " I am often asked of what age I am, what answer should I make ?" Mr. Hume, immediately guessing her ladyship's meaning, said,," Madam, when you are asked that question again, answer that you are not yet come to years of discretion." Mamma — "Mercy onus, children, stop that noise. What are you quarrelling about ?" Little Nell— f ' We isn't quarrelling ?" Mamma — " Then what is all this noise about ? What is Harry scolding for, and why are you pulling, his hair?" Little Nell — " It was only play, mamma. We is pretending we is married." At a Scotch election one of the candidates declared that he was for nothing but tried reformers, and that he was a tried reformer himself. " Yes," said a voice from the crowd, "and if the jury that tried you had not been a pack of scoundrels like yourself, you'd have been settling kangaroos at Sydney instead of talking treason here." A love-smitten gentleman, after conversing a while with a lady on the interesting topic of matrimony, concluded at last with the emphatic question; — "Will you have me?" " I am very sorry to disappoint you," replied the lady, " and hope my refusal will not give you pain ; but I must answer ' No.' " " Well, well, ' that will do," said her philosophical lover, " and now supposo we change the subject." In a manse in Fife, the conversation of a large party one evening turned on a volume of sermons, which had just been published with considerable success, and was supposed to have brought a round sum into the hands of the author. When the minister's wife heard of what had been made by the volume, her imagination was excited, and turning to her husband, who sat a little aside, she said, "My dear, I see naething to hinder you to print af e tv of your sermons, too." " They were a' printed lang syne," said the candid minister in his wife's ear. "I'm going to get married," said he, as he placed a hand upon the counter as large as a Dutch cheese, " and I want a wedding cake." "It is customary," said the pretty assistant, " now-a-days to have the materials of the cake harmonise with the calling of th.c bridegroom. For a musician, now, we have an oat cake ; for a man who has no calling and lives upon his friends, the sponge cake, and so on ; what is your calling, please?" "I'm a pugilist." " Then you want pound cake." '
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/EP18850905.2.55
Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Volume XXX, Issue 58, 5 September 1885, Page 2 (Supplement)
Word Count
767WIT AND HUMOUR. Evening Post, Volume XXX, Issue 58, 5 September 1885, Page 2 (Supplement)
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