ALLEGED HUMOUR.

Evening Post, Volume LXXVII, Issue 144, 19 June 1909, Page 11

ALLEGED HUMOUR.

THE SONG OF THE MOTOR CAR. I'm the coy and ingenuous toy of thostrenuoiis Era of Civilised Man, I'm the truly rcsp.ectable, duly delectable Outcome of project and plan ; And my gassy and thunderful, massy and wonderful Shape splits the landscape in twain, As I race where the fountain speaks grace to the' mountain peaks — Then over valley and plain. Oh! it's "honk, honk-honk i" — is the song I ejng JLn the cool of tlie morning gray, jjtid it'e — "honlr, honk-honk'!' — is tha raucous ring Of my voice at the close of day ; And the echoes wake — and the echoes quake. ■In their sylvan retreats afar; For I am the fizzing, the buzzing, and ! whizzing, Redoubtable Motor Car. j I'm the snappiest, pluckiest, happy-go-luckiest Work of Man's rockkss career — •. Tho machine of divinity green asininity Never can conquer or steer ; ' And there's never a note, or bar honked by the Motor Car Rounding an anglo or curve, But it cheats the pedestrian — beata tho equestrian—. Out of his poiso and his nerve. For it's — "honk, honk-honk !" — is the song I sing In the blaze of the noonday bright, And it's — "honk, honk-honk" — is tho raucous ring Of my voice in the starry night; And the echoes quako and shiver and shake. In their rocky retreato afar ; For I am tho puffing, the chugging, and chuffing And masterful Motor Car ! Through the haze of the dreamiest days of the Summers I speed to and fro, In the height of tho glorious, mighty, uproarious Tempest I come and I go ; I'm the tool and the servant, the cool and observant Rare creaturo of project and plan, And the coy and ingenuous toy of the strenuous Era of Civilised Man. And it's "honk, honk-honk !" — is the song I sing In the cool of the ev'ning'a hush, And it's — "honk, honk -honk !" — is the raucous ring Of my voico in the morning's blush ; And the echoes wake — and tho echoes shake, * In , their woody retreat* afar ; For I am. the purring, the Whizzing and Whirring And marvellous Motor Car ! — James Ball Kaylor. ICollier's Weekly. TO THE POINT. Pedestrian: "How far is it to Aldershot? Let me see. Well, as the crow flies ." Footsore Tommy : "Never mind 'ow tho beggar flies; 'ow far is it a 6 the beggar 'ops?" — Punch. THE CUNNING EDITOR. "Ma," said a newspaper man's eon, "I know why editors call themselves 'wo.' " "Why ?" "So's tho man that doesn't like the article will think thero are too many people for him to tackle." UNINTENTIONAL KINDNESS. All flushed and breathless, the welldressed young man picked up the hat he had been chasing down the street, and leaned against a lamp-post to rest. Another, also breathing heavily, came running up and took the hat out of his hand, j "I'm much obliged," he said. "For what?" "This is my. hat." "Where's mine, thon?" "Hanging behind you at the end of a string." Then for the first timo the young man remembered his hat-guard. DOUBTFUL ! Percy~"Do you think your father would object to my marrying you?" Pearl — "I couldn't say. If he's anything like me he would." , A GOOD TURN. "Say, mister," eaid tho small boy, breathlessly, "take down this order quick; I got to go to school : — Two pounds of coft'oe at forty-five cents ; three and ono half of sugar at seven cents ; six boxes of cocoa at twenty-four; two dozen eggs at thirty-two; and four pounds of butter at forty cents. How much does it come to?" "Four dollars and eigbty-threo cents, my little man," said the grocer. "What address, pleaso?" ' l "Gee ! Thanks !" said tho Bchoolboy as he made his escape. "That was tho only ono I couldn't do !" AN'"IF-IST." Grover Cleveland once declared that he was an optimist, but not "an i£-ist." "An if-ist," said Mr. Cleveland, "is a person , who is a elava to. the Tittle word 'if,' whereas an optimist hopes for the be6t in, a sane manner. Tho if-ist is nevor quite sane. I once knew an if-ist who was lost in tha Maine woods with a companion on a hunting expedition. As night came on they made camp, but although they were hungry, they had shot no game, and had nothing to eat. With a perfectly serious face this fellow looked at his companion/and said: 'If we only had somo ham, we'd have' ham and eggs, if we only had some eggs !' " ■ WASTED SWEETNESS. - He was a collector for an instalment house, new at tho business and sensitive about performing an unpleasant duty. Ho was particularly embarrassed because the lady upon whom he had called to perform this unpleasant duty was so exceedingly polite. Still the van was at the door, the lady was in arrears in her payments, and ho remembered his duty. "Good morning," said the lady. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" "Boautiful/' ho agreed. "Won't you take a chair?" 6he said. "Er — no, thank you, not this morning," he stammered. "I've coma to take tho piano 1" A DOUBLE OFFICE. " l ' = " In th© Cornhill Magazine for April, a 6tory is told of a rustic church clerk in the English provinces. A funeral procession arrived on a fine day in July, and the vicar, in full canonicals, advanced to meet it. To his amazement the widow met him in a perfect f ur.> . The vicar then perceived that John, the clerk, was missing, and that no. grave had been prepared. Upon enquiry he. was told that John was haymaking in the park. A messenger was despatched to bring him, and ehortlv John appeared limping along with a prong in his hand, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, his coat upon his arm, and a large straw hat upon his head. lie advanced with perfect composure, and •when the vicar began to say, "This is very disgraceful, John," ho replied, "You bide a bit. I sees what it be. You let me talk to sho. Sho knows me and I know she." Then addressing the widow he proceeded : "Now I tell ye what it be ; you listen to reason. Now We've had rain, rain, rain ; and now we've got a fine day we must make our hay. Now your corpsey, jhe won't hurt. Comes a wet day, 'taint Ino odds to you ; you bring your umbrelI las, but our hay'ld spile. Now you take ho homp and listen to reason. Your old man he'd a listen'd to reason. Hay's a thing as can't only be made when 'tis fine. 'Taint no odds to corpseys whether 'tis ! wet or dry." So completely was the woman convinced by the irresistible logic of John's argument that she was completely subdued, and if the vicar had not insisted upon some of the haymakers being called in to •dig "the grave, the funeral would have I. turned home- again. (