HOTCH-POTCH

Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 18 December 1926, Page 18

HOTCH-POTCH

“Wliat do you make a week?” asked a Judge "of 'an Italian organ-grinder. 1 “Four pounds, save.’’ “What? Fouri-fl pounds for grinding an organ?” “No,<.» .sate ; not for da. grind, hut for da .shut up and go away.”

Miner: . Were you fired with enthusiasm when yau tackled your first job after leaving college? Oiogy: Was I? I never saw a man so glad to get rid of me in my life. Sweet Young Thing: Claude says he worships the very ground I walk on. A Rejected Suitor: I don’t blame him. A farm of that size is not to b<? snoozed at. He (passionately): I tell you my love for you is making me mad—mad —mad. She (calmly): Well, keep quiet about it. It’s had the same effect on my father. Aeronautics Professor: I have been training men to fly for the past five years, and I’ve never heard a complaint. * Now, what does that prove? Voice from rear: Dead men tell no tales. Scotch Gent: “My lad, are you to be my caddie?” Caddie: “Yes, sir” “And how are you at finding lost balls?” “Very good, sir.” “Weil, look around and find one, and we’ll start the game.”

“No,” she said. “I cannot marry you, Alfred, hut I will be a sister to you.” “Good. How much did we inherit from our father?” ‘•‘You must leave off drinking wine to cure your red nose! You must drink milk for a year! ” “I have already done so for two years!’’ “Indeed! When?” “The first two years of my life.”

A bashful young couple, evidently much in love, entered a crowded tram. “Do you think we can squeeze in here?” he asked, looked doubtfully at her blushing face. , “Don’t you think, dear, we had better wait until we get home?” was the low, embarassed reply.

The movie actor who had been divorced five times proposed again. “Why, I rather like you, Jim,” said the young woman, “flmt you see I’ve heard so many things about you ” “My dear,” interrupted the muchmarried actor, “you really - must not believe those old wives ’ tales. ’ ’

The Scotsman was boasting that every member of his race had a sense of humour. “And no wonder.” remarked the Irishman. “It’s a gift.”

“Can you give me “The Cricket on the Hearth?” asked the old lady of the new salesman in the book shop. “I don’t think we have it in stock,” replied the youth, but I ean show you a ping-pong set which is every bit as exciting. ’ ’

She: “The insulting wretch. He asked me if I remember the dreadfully cold winter of 1899—think of it.” Her friend: “Oh, I’m sure he didn’t mean to offend von dear. Ho probably did not know what a dreadfully poor memory von have. ’ ’

After challenging juryman after juryman, .who had to leave box, the’ prisoner leant over to his solicitor ail'd whispered — “The jury’s all right now, I think, but we must challenge the judge. I’ve been convicted under him several times already, and maybe he’s beginning to have a prejudice.”

He lived in the country, and had been dining with a friend. They had spent a merry evening together, and it whs not until two in the morning that the guest picked up ,his lantern from the hall table and started on his homeward journey along the dark lanes which seemed to be even darker than usual, in spito of the lantern. It was late the next morning -when he got up, and his ideas of the previous evening were someiyhat confused. But downstairs lie found a telegram awaiting him which seemed to throw light upon the darkness: “Am sending back vour lantern. Please return my parrot and cage.—Jim.”

A good story is being circulated among the Sydney legal fraternity. A learned King’s counsel, who lives on the north side of the harbour, attended a dinner in the city one eyening, and as it was getting late he presented himself at the ferry turnstiles only to find that, he was minus his pass. He informed the man at the barrier that he was a regular subscriber, but this did not seem to help him in any way, and he then told him —thinking, no doubt, to impress him —that lu* was well known and a K.C. “Well, I’m an O’Brien,” was the prompt and proud reply, “an O’Brien ’$ as good as a Casey any day! ”

There was something wrong with the wireless receiver, and Tomkins, who knew little beyond the manipulation of his set, called in his neighbour, who was an enthusiast experimenter, to help him. It did not take the latter Jong to discover the trouble. “I’m afraid your aerial is leaking.” “Leaking,” echoed Mrs Tomkins, who was taking an intelligent interest in the proceedings. “What a pity we didn’t Know yesterday, when we had the plumber in!”