Wit and Humour.

Evening Post, Volume XLVIII, Issue 24, 28 July 1894, Page 2 (Supplement)

Wit and Humour .

A point of trespass. — Irate Owner of this hide of water — "Are you aware Ihat you are trespassing in this water, youug man ?" Sharp Youth — " But I'm not in the water, sir. " Irate O wuer (more irate) — ' ' Confound you, but you've just taken a fish out !" Sharp Youth — " l'es, sir. The tish was trespassing !" Sir Charles Russell, years before he took silk, was sitting in Court, when another bnrriater, leaning across the benches during a trial for bigamy, whispered, "Russell, what's the extreme penalty for bigamy ?'' "Two mothers-in-law," replied Russell, without hesitation. It was the man who studied the family tree in all its branches who first discovered tbut it was often a " blooming plant." She — " I wish you'd introduce me to your friend, Mr. Jones." He — " You won't like him — he's an awful bounder." She— ' ' Then he'll just do for the barn-dance, which I'm not engaged for." His pound of flesh. — " I can't understand why you, who have such small feet, always wear such large boots." " But I gain in doing so. They don't charge any less for smaller ones, and I get more for my money. ' ' Spiritual— Promising Daughter — " What are spirits, dad?" Proud Father (who has had just one or two) — "Spirits, my dear, are the good angetfin heaven." Promising Daughter — " Well, I hope I sha'n't go to heaven, then, for I don't like the Btneli of good angels." The eminent surgeon, Sir Aatley Cooper, was fond of a practical joke. On one occasion he ascended the church tower of a j village in Norfolk, taking with him one of I his mother's pillows, and finding the wind blew directly to the next town, he let off handfuls of feathers, until ho had emptied the pillow. The local papers reported this "remarkable Bhower of feathers, and offered various conjectures to account for it, and the account was copied into other papers, and was probably received as a perfectly natural occurrence. The late Professor Tyndall, in bis youth, was a master at Queen wood College, Hampshire. The village innkeeper had a capital tap of home-brewed old-fashioned ale, which the educational staff much fancied. Years passed on, but the scant of the roses remained, and vtiurn the Professor ran over to look once more at his starting-point in life, he went down for a glass of the weUromembered brew. " Simpkinson," said he after a delicious draught, " I never had any beer like yours since I w ent away.' ' ' ' No, sir ; nowadays they pats too much science into beer, 'stead of malt an' hops." Sardou's choice. — " Burnod ! Burned ! It will afford me great pleasure to be burned. Warmly yours, ' was Sardou's reply to the question whether he would choose to be buried or cremated. Liberty of conscience — Manager — "What do you think of our new play ?" Critic — "Perfect rot!" Manager — "You've no right to say that." Critic— l've as much right to call the play -perfect rot as I have to call you a perfect ass." Manager— ' ' Confound you, sir ! I bog to tell you you haven't anything of thekiud. I mean " (Wonders for tne moment what he does mean, and exit exploding.) It has never yet been satisfactorily explained how it is that when you hear your own dog bark in the back-yard you describe it as "That noble animal on tne alert for the protection of one's property ;" but if it happens to be your neighbour's dog, it is invariably, "That wretched cur next door." ' ' What caused your beok-keeper's downfall?" " Lost his balance." "Are ye on callic' terms wid yer neighbour, Molly Maguire ?" "To be shure I am ! She up an called me a thafe, and I up an' called her another." "What a beautiful coat- of- arms Mrs. Quickrich has on her stationery," said one girl. " That -isn't a coat of arms," replied the other ; "it'sa moneygram." Hopeful. — Fair Friend — " Are you sanguine of the succe:<sof your forthcoming play, Mr. Scribe ?" Popular play wright — " Oh, very — it's such a bad one." Young wife, during the first quarrel — "I believe — youre — the - mm — meanestm — man who ever lived." Young husband, with a wide knowledge of the world — " Oh, no, my dear. I could be a lot meaner than I am without going near the record." When he opened his lecture on the " Mormons " at the Egyptian Hall, London, recently Artemus Ward said, apologetically : "I don't expect to do much here, but I have thought if I could make money enough to buy me a passage to New Zealand I should feel that I had not lived in vain. I don't want to live in vain. I'd rather live in Margate or here." When the London Exchange was burned down in 1838, a certain Arthur Betts kept a music-shop in the Exchange buildings. A somewhat witty reporter, in his graphio account of the fire, added to his "copy" the following lined : — The men of Braidwood's fire brigade, In water to their middles, With skill and great precision played On Arthur Betle' fiddles.