ALLEGED HUMOUR.

Evening Post, Volume LXXIII, Issue 28, 2 February 1907, Page 11

ALLEGED HUMOUR.

♦ THE FAITH HEALER. Have you a pain all down your back? A feeling of intense . prostration 1 Aro you anaemic, for the lack Of proper circulation? With bloodshot eye and hand unsteady? Pray send at once for Mrs. Eddy: The Saint and Prohpetess is »ho Of what is known as Christian Science; And you can. lean on Mtb. 15. With absolute reliance; For she will shortly make it plain That there is no such, thing as pain. The varied ailments on your list Which cause you such extreme vexation Are nothing more, she will insist, Than mere imagination. 'Tifl so with illness or disease ; Nothing . . . except her fees! A friend of mine had not been taught This doctrine, I regrot to say. Ho fell downstairs, or so he thought, And broke his nock, one day. Had Mrs. Eddy come aiong, She could have shown him he was wrong. She could have told him (or his wraith) That stairb and necks have no existence, That persons with sufficient faith Can fall from any distance, And that he wasn't in tho least What local papers call "deceased." Of ills to which the flegh is heir Sho is decidodly disdainful ; But onco, or so hor friends declare, Her teeth bocamo bo painful That, tho' she knew they couldn't be, She had them taken out, to see. — Harry Graham. (From Misrcpresentativa Women.) , PUTTING THE~"GEEMAN DOWN. A traveller from Connecticut was on the railway platform in Heidelberg. Crowds of people were hurrying in all directions, but the American, who was trying to reach his family, felt that one man pushed against him with unnecessary roughness. "See here," he said, turning on the offender, "you stop jostling me that way." Ho had hardly expected his words to bo understood, but the young man whom he had accosted drew himself up haughtily and said in excellent English, tinged by a slight German accent : "I am at your service, sir, at any time and place. ' ' "Well, now, that's something like!" said the traveller, hooking his arm into the haughty yoiing man's. "You carry this grip of mine and take me to a good hotel. You're just the man I've been looking for and didn't know how to find." THE SOFT ANSWER. Often (says Woomera) the soft answer tnrneth away wrath. Besides an unfinished building the strikers stood on picket duty one day last week, and a venorable clergyman paused for a moment to look at the strange spectacle of a bricklayer at work. One of the pickets lecognised him as tho priest of a hated theocracy, and approachod him truculently. "Wy don't yer foller the doctrines of the Noo Testament?" he hissed. The mild old parson lokedo at him benevolently^ "I try 'to, so far as I carl," he said. "I suppose I sometimes fail. Why don't you attempt it yoursolf?" The old gentleman continued to gaze meditatively at the men at work, and the picket went away to borrow a match. TOO MANY SLEEPERS. The old coloured parson arose in his pulpit and addressed his flock. "Bruddahs en Sis.tahs, come on en git on do train foh Paradise. If lebes right away." Then ho glanced over his snoring congregation and shook his head sorrowfully, j "I reckon we bctteh sidetrack dat train, deacon," he sighed. i "Why so, parson?" asked the deacon | in surprise. | "Kase deh's altogetddeh too many sleepers foh one train heah." The Westminster Gazette lately offered a prize for the best verse cohEtnicted in tho nonsenso line, "Bedad, sweet maid, and lot who will begorra." It is scarcely necessary to say that the column selected from the numerable responses was a mass of alleged Irish brogue too painful to contemplate. But the motley heap contained one really clever attempt: — "My fairest Isle, Home Rule I cannot give you ; No Bill could pass the Lords, so swift to slay ; Yet, ere we part, your Freedom I can leave you Another way. Bedad, sweet maid, and let who will, bogorra, Redmond's the bhoy — not Bryce — nor Walter Long; On them fco-day — on him devolves tomorrti' Your old, sweet Wrong." Another contributor wrote :—: — "Bedad, sweet maid, and let who will, bogorra !" This awful line now haunts me all day long, It seems so ab-so-lute-ly suited for a Grand comic song !" THE WAITER KNEW THEM. A lawyer at a circuit town in Ireland dropped a ten-poun dnote under the table while playing cards in an inn. He did not discover his loss until he was going to bed, but then returned immediately. On leaching the room he was met by the waiter, who said : "I know what you want, sir; you have lost something?" "Yos, I have lost a ten-pound note." "Well, sir, I have found it, and here 'it is." "Thanks, my good lad; here's a sovereign for you. "No, sir. I want no reward for being honeet ; but," looking at him with ft knownjjg grin, "wasn t it a good job that none of tho gentlemen found it?" "Do you go to school, my boy?" "Yes, Bir." "What do you leaxn—reading, writing, and arithmetic?" "AH of those, sir. "And are you familiar with punctuation?" "Oh, yes, sir! The master punctuated his tire last week an' I mended it for him in Icsb ten minutes!" ..,.,, , "Did he succeed in elevating the moral tone of politics, as he started out to do?" "No; but lie did very well. He got out without entirely sacrificing his own conscience." She (sentimentally).— How like life are the waves of the sea ! He. — You bet. Come to the shore in great style, and go away broke. "Did Jenks ever realise anything on that gold mine investment of his ?" "Oh, yes." "What did ho realise \" "What a fool ho had been to go into Tho Traveller.— Aro these all the sandwiches you've got to eat ? The Refreshment Room Attendant — I 'aven't got to eaf 'em, bless yer. I've got to try and sell 'em. Tho incumbent of a populous parish, who never failed to have publication of numerous banti3, looked for tho banns book as usual after the first lesson. Feeling assured of finding it, he commenced :—"I: — "I publish the Danns of marriage" — awkward pause, during which he looked beneath the service books, but it was not there. "I publish the banns," repeated ho, still fumbling, "between — between " "Between tho cushion and tho leat," shouted the clerk, looking up and pointing, to the pluco wfawe the book had bepq miilald... " "' ,