Wit and Humour.

Evening Post, Volume L, Issue 66, 14 September 1895, Page 2 (Supplement)

Wit and Humour.

— — ♦ Two Words that Sound as One.— The Greenwich Angel : " Well, my dear, there's ono thing to bo said, however much one may dislike Smith and Grigster, there's no vfetting away from the fact that they're wo jolly men." The Dulwich Girl : "Yes, Grigster especially is too jolly clever." Domestic. — Mrs. Bicker : "But you have such an immense belief in your own judgment, my love !" Mr. B. : "No, my angel, [ haven't. Not since I married you." At a Seaside Boarding-house. — Hostess : " One thing I can declare, and that is that the water here is absolutely pure. We filter it till it has neither taste nor colour." Boarder : "Do you filter yonr coffee also?" Wife (with determined air) : "I want to .eethatletter." Husband : " What letter P" Wife: "That one you just opened. I know by the handwriting that it is from a woman, and you turned pale when you read it. I will see it. Give it to me, sir." Husband: •''Here it is. It's your milliner's bill." [Jp to His Trioks.— Policeman : "The next time I catch you playing up here I'll take that whip and top off you !" Tommy: " Crikey, Bill ! 'c wornts to play 'isself !" Aggravating Flippancy. — The Professor (who has just come back from the North Pole) : " and the Fauna of these inhospitable regions is as poor as the Flora. You couldn't name a dozen animals who manage to live there." Mrs. Malapert: "Oh— l dare say I could." The Professor : ' ' Really— what are they P' ' Mrs. Malapert ; "Well, now— five Polar bears, let us say, and seven seals !" Editor's Wife (from second-story window) : "You don't get in this honse at any such hour of the morning as this." Editor (appealingly) : "But, my dear, I was necessarily detained at the office. You see, we had late news of a tremendous big lockout, and " Wife : " All right, you've got news of another now," slamming down the window. Mamma: "You and your little visitors are doing nothing but sitting around and looking miserable. Why don't you play at something?" Little Daughter: "We is playin'." "Playing what?" "We is playin' that we is growed up." He (decisively): "Women are fools." She (sweetly) : "Well, if there is anything in heredity, an acquaintance with some of their sons would lead us to think so." How Romantic!— She: "I say, this is pretty awful ! Poor little Miss Mesuup!— It gay s hero, that ' Shortly after the wedding she discovered he wasn't really a Baron ! ' " He: "Well, think of the poor Johnny when he found out she wasn't an heiress !" Proverb apropos of Latest New Waltz, " King Gretchen." — " It's the last ' Strauss ' that breaks the record " At a Problem Play.— Mr. Caulfield: "Try and look a little more interested." Mrs. Caulfield: "II don't think I can. The play is so bad." Mr. Caulfield: "No doubt; but you must remember that these stalls are ten shillings each, and we must endeavour to try and imagine that we are getting some value for our money." if What a sensible fellow Dobbs is." "Yes, he's so full of sorrow for the sorrow you feel when he tells you he cannot pay the debt he borrowed of you." Medical.— Doctor : " Why, he is quite delirious. You should have called me in before, while he was still in his proper senses." Mrs. Kilburn : "But when he is in his proper senses he will not allow a doctor to enter the house." Yorick : "I courted my wife three years before I got her, and it was nearly all wasted time." Lynx: "Why, isn't she an excellent woman?" Yorick: "She is, indeed; but I've discovered since that I could have got her in three months if I had had the gumption to ask her." The New Woman and Her Wife.— " Caroline !" In the darkness of night he clutohed the coverlet wildly. " Caroline ! ' he gasped, "I'm sure there's a woman in the house !" But his wife only laughed at his terrors, and with a' little moan he covered up his head. " I'll woo thee in the moonlight," sang the lover to his girl, who was gazing fondly on him from the casement. " It's much cheaper than the gaslight," sang her father, the old churl, who was taking observations from th.c basement. A Labour of Love. — Benevolent Lady (who has with infinite trouble organised a country excursion for some over-worked London dressmakers) : " Then mind you're at the station at nine to-morrow, Eliza. I do hope it won't rain !" " Bine, Miss ! I % owp not, to be sure ! The country's bad enough when is's/oine, yn't it, Miss."