WIT AND HUMOUR

Evening Post, Volume CIII, Issue 141, 17 June 1922, Page 13

WIT AND HUMOUR

Politics seem to be much' the same thing all over the world, and in every part something else than it seems to be, remarks "Woomera," of the Australasian (whose verses follow). In an English review, ho proceeds, a close observer of polities pleads for more sincerity in public speech, and especially the florid side of it, generally called oratory. He notices the extreme rarity of truth and candour, though as one familiar with tho game he ought to know that both are impossible. Tho truth is so often cold, bitter, and unpalatable where the lie, especially the diplomatic white lie, may be soothing and gracious. One may be a brickbat, the other a bagnet. The truth is something which wo seek to impress upon babies and sucklings—who • know no better—' statesmen who dared use it habitually would ba hounded ovjt of public life; lucky if he got out of tho life alive. The fact is that the people, whose favour is necessary to the politician's success, don't want to be enlightened, they want to be entertained, and what the politician is they make him. When first he took the platform, Truth Was one of his obsessions; He found in Truth and Suicide d Synonymous expressions. So after giving Truth a try, Ho gave it up, because it Meant not only losing votes, But losing his deposit. "Now, gentlemen," the speaker said, "If there be any present With half as much intelligence As a Bulgarian peasant, Why weary you with high finance, Although its power's undoubted I might as well talk double Dutch For all you know about it. "Yet one must do this sort of thing, Because it is a habit, Although he knows his audiences Are silly as a rabbit. They say I must avoid the truth, With platitudes be gracious; Since half of you are vacuous, \ The other half vexatious. " 'The people's voice,' a cynic said, 'The seed of wisdom scatters,' Vox Dei and vox populi I Are wholly different matters. And since I'm here to tell the truth', Not seek your approbation, I fail to find on looking round A trace of inspiration "Why speak of statesmanship to fools, Or men in your position; The 6qualid side of politics Suits your dopraved condition. If one talks rot it is because Your intellects demand it, For if he gave you policy You wouldn't understand it." Thus far sincerity and truth In equal parts were blended; But then the audience rose in wrath, And then the meeting ended. So badly Truth had served his cause, Or helped his first endeavour, He dropped the dashed thing down a well, And left it there for ever. But now he knows how seats are won, And public favour courted, And never tells the truth at all, Except when misreported. For if the truth crop out at times, Pie'll camouflage or screen it; The only time he seems sincere Is when he doesn't mean it. Tramp: Would you please 'elp a pore man whose wife is out o' work? "I 'ear your 'usband 'as turned Bol■shio." "Well, not absolootljj; but 'c 'as a lenin that way." ; "Do you really believe in heredity?" "Most certainly I do. That is how I camo into all my .money." He: If you refuse mo I shall blow out my brains. She: Impossible. Ho: May,be you don't think I have a pistol? She: Oh, I daresay you 1-ave the pistol all light.. H©: I'd lik© to know why you girls get engaged to several men at once? She: When you have only one match, doesn't it go out? I One Loafer to the Other: It's a pity tnat strike is over. So long as it was on we could persuade people that >(re were workers. "How is it with you and Mr, Windy, Anna? Did you explain every thing' to him? You tok! him about your rioh aunt, of course; and after that what followed?" "He eloped with" her."----"It appears to be your record, Mary,"' said tho Magistrate," "that you have already been convicted thirty-fivo. times of ■stealing." "I guess that's right, your honour," answered Mary. "No woman is perfect." Prieat: "All the way to Ballyrooney to post a letter, Michael? Why, what's wrong with our own post offioo?" Michael: "Ah, father, no more business ( do I take there since it's quarrelled I have wi' the postmaster."

Husband (angrily): I was t, fool when I married you. Wife: Aren't you a fool still? Husband: No, I am not. Wifo: flhen you should congratulate me upon my Euccess as a reformer. . Mrs. Hiram Offen: Here, Bridget, see how dusty it is under the bed. Bridget: Yes-m. "Haven't I impressed upon you that you must sweep under the- beds?" "Ay, course, ma'aui, an' how could tho dust get thora if I hadn't swept it under Jl' Among the quests at a reception was a, distinguished man of letters. He was grave and somewhat taciturn. One of tho ladies present suggested to the hostess that he seemed to be out ot place at such a party. "Yes," replied tho hostess, with a bright 1 smile, "you see, ho can't talk anything but sense!" NOT WHAT HE MEANT. At a dinner party, Mr. Jones had been trying to say something nice to his hostess. ; "What a small appetite you have, Mr. Jones," she remarked. "To sit next to you Mrs. Smith," he replied, "would cause any man to loao his appetite." . And then ho wondered why he wasn't invited to the next affair. THE CURATE'S APPETITE. The church conference was over, and the hostesses were returning from seeing tho visitors off. "Who-- did you have, Mrs. Brown?" asked Mrs. Retlaw. "Oh, I had a very nioo minister. Who did you have?" "Well, I had two locust preachers," confessed Mrs. Retlaw. "Oh, yof mean two local preachers. Locusts are/things that come in sw*rros and eat up everything " t "That's right," said her friend, "I had two of them!" FOREWARNED. "Why have I never married?" the old baohelor said in reply to a leading question. "Well, once upon a time, in a crowd, I trod on a lady's gown. She turnod furiously, beginning, 'You clumsy brute i' Then .she smiled sweetly, and said, 'Oh, I beg your pardon! I thought you were ; my husband! No; it really doesn't 1 matter in the least.' And when I came to thmk it over I decided that maybe I'd' just as well let marriage alone." IN A QUANDARY. A small girl asked her mother, "If I grow up, shall I have a husband like papa? "\es, dear," mother replied. And if I do not get married, shall I be un old maid like Aunt Susan?"" "Yes," was the reply. The little girl thought for a rf" I,"^' ,P ut her hßnd3 to her head, and eaid, "Well. I am in a fix!"