WEEK-END SMILES

Greymouth Evening Star, 12 August 1933, Page 12

WEEK-END SMILES

t SOMETHING WRONG. Tho convicts were doing their daily exercises in the prison yard. The newcomers were carrying on the usual whispered conversation. “How long?” asked one. ‘•Rive years,” replied the other. “What for?” “Robbing the bank. And you. “Ten years.” “What for?” “I was its manager.” WHY, INDEED. A voting lady entered a stationery shop’ the Other day and asked for a pound of floor wax. . , , “I'm sorry, miss,” replied the assistant. “We sell only sealing wax.” “Don’t be silly,” she remarked. “Why would anyone want to wax theii ceiling?” GALLERY OR STADIUM. “If you want to spend a quiet halthour,”' said the native to a. visitor, “there’s no better place than our ait ° “Half a. minute,” replied the stranger. “I’ve just started reading about it in the guide book. It says that the visitor, on entering, is struck by a statue of Hercules. Then he is stunned by the splendour of the great staircase nt nicture in trie first room is full of punch, while farther on one is crushed by the overwhelming magnificence. of another painting. Finally, brilliant colours run riot everywhere. No, sir; if I want a quiet half-hour, I 11 take a boxing lesson. NO DOUBT ABOUT IT Pupil: Do you think it would be very difficult for me to learn rollerskating? Instructor: Not at all. Aon d soon tumble to it. % AGREED Hotch: I often think that Judges’ hours are too long. Botch: Yes. They are certainly very trying times. VERY' MUCH SO Jones: Your son seems to bo quite a promising young man. Smith: Yes. he’s been sued twice for breach of promise. ALONE SHE KNEW Mrs Crabbe (after a lengthy, bitter oration): And, what’s more, let me tell you, I know what I am talking about. Mr. Crabbe (eminent scholar): That’s where you have the advantage over me, my dear. THE ONLY YVAY! “H’m,” the publisher murmured. “Your handwriting’s so indistinct I can hardly read these poems of yours. Why didn’t you type them before bringing them to me?” “Type ’em?” the would-be poet gasped. “D’you think I'd waste my time writing poetry if I could type?” IN A BOARD SCHOOL It was a sultry afternoon, and the teacher of a geography class was endeavouring to get a few good answers before closing the lesson. “Now, boys, the word ‘stan’ at the end of a word mean ‘place of.’ Thus we have Afghanistan, the place of the Afghans; also Hindoostan, the place of the Hindoos. Now. can anyone give me another example?” “Yes, sir,” said the smallest boy, proudly. “I can. Umbrellastan,’ the place for umbrellas.” NOT SAFE Gentleman (who is visiting, to little boy of the house): And why won’t you let me take you on the river in a nice boat? Little Boy: Oh, please, Mr. Tubbs, because L heard pa tell ma that you can hardly keep your head above water, and — and—l can’t swim. THE POT AND THE KETTLE Pupil: Please, sir, I can’t quite make out what you have written in the margin of my book. Master: I wrote that your writing is very illegible. DIDN'T COUNT Pat saw Mike coming along the pier. “Hallo, son of old Ireland,” he said, “What ye been doing?” “Testing my weight,” said Mike. “How much do ye weigh?” asked Pat. “One hundred and seventy-five pounds,” replied the other. “What!” exclaimed Pat. “But ye Vmust a’ weighed yerself with your coat on.” “That I did not,” replied Mike. “I held it over my arm.” HORTICULTURAL Jimson was relating his experiences in India. “I was taking my usual morning dip,” said he, “when I spotted three gladiators making for me. so I had to swim for dear life. “You mean navigators—something like a crocodile,” interposed Johnson. “Well, and what’s gladiators?” queried the other. “Gladiators? Why, they’re—sort of flowers grown from bulbs.” came the reply. A HINT Corporal: Is it true that the sergeant called you a blockhead? Private: Oh, no, corporal, nothing as strong as that. Corporal: What did he say? Private: ’E said, ‘Put yer blinkin’ cap on—'ere comes a woodpecker.’ ” SMART BOY Carpenter (putting his new apprentice to test): What is a rwo-foot rule? Apprentice: Ah, I know. Il’s brushing both boots in the morning. TORTURE “Doesn’t your choir sing at the prison any more?” “No, several of the prisoners objected on the ground that it wasn’t included in their sentences.” OUR SURPRISING NEIGHBOUR. Salesman (with Communist leanings): Why, inadame, there is a woman in this town wno is allowed .C 5 a week pin money. Mrs Muggins: I.ordy mo! Why. she can’t have a button to her clothes. VERY’ TRUE. ’I he school teacher was explaining the word “collision.” “A collision,” be said, “occurs when two bodies come together unexpectedly. Now will one of you give me an example of a collision ?” “Please, sir,” piped one small child, “t wins.” A DIFFERENCE. A nice old lady smiled at the little girl who had been left in charge of the confectioner’s shop. “Don't you somethimes feel tempted to eat one of the cream buns, my dear?” she asked. The little girl was quite shocked. “Of course not. That would be stealing. I only lick them,”