IN LIGHTER VEIN.

King Country Chronicle, Volume XIX, Issue 2052, 6 December 1924, Page 6

IN LIGHTER VEIN.

Definition of a vacuum.—The conversation between a, goilf fiend who doesn’t play bridge and a bridge fiend who doesn’t play golf. * * * * * Speaking of the home for disabled saxofhone clayers, we are willing to subscribe if someone will only disablo them. * * * * * A kind old gentleman, who was “doing” Wembley, was stopped by a very little giii,carrying a parcel, “if you please, sir,” she said, “is this the second turning to the left?” ***** Heard on the promenade : “Doesn’t that horrid Miss Golding live in youi square?” “Yes, unfortunately. -But thank goodness, she doesn’t move in our circle.” ***** The bishop, inviting a friend to dinner,' said: “We generally dine at 8, h'at I shall give you a quarter or an hour’s grace.” “Then I’ll come at .8.15,” was the prompt reply. * * * * Young Lady (on first visit to Western ranch): “For what purpose do you use that coil of line on your saddle < Cowboy: “That line, as yo<a call it, lady, we use for catching cattle and horses.” “Oh, indeed! Now, may I ask, what do you use for bait. ***** The old-fashioned farmer was hard to convince. “No,” declared he, XU have no such contraptions in my house. Planners are bad things. “Oli, but father,” protested his daughter,’“this is an upright piano.” ***** A traveller in Ireland once, hired a cab to take him into the country, and had not proceeded far when it puded up at the foot otf a steep bill. Ihe driver appeared at the door. What are you at, man?” said the traveller; “this isn’t where I ordered you to stop.” “Whist, yer honour, whist, ejaculated Paddy. “I’m only deceivm the beast. If I bang the door he 1 think you’re out, find’ll cut up the lip like tho divik” ***** GAIiEFU L CRITICISM. The fielding of a local team in a recent match was inclined to lie slack, that of point particularly so. There was every excuse tor the latter for only that'morning he had been fined at the Police Court for selling margarine in place of butter, and he was naturally a trifle upset. “Haw’d it, ’Bnery,” shouted the fielding captain, as a simple catch came in his direction. Point mode a grab, and promptly dropped the ball. “This time, tthen!” came another veil, as a. second ball was pot up towards tho flurried fieldsman. But once \ again tho ball steered its way through point’s fingers on to the turf. Tho captain mopped! his purple face. “Well, ’Enry,” he said, m withering tones, “if it worn’t again the weight of evidence in Court this inorn ing I’m blest if I shouldn’t call you butter-fingers.” ***** AND A GOOD JOB, TOO. Admiral Sir E. Charlton, till recently head of the Naval Inter-Allied Commission in Germany, told at a recent dinner in London an amusuig story of a Irishman who was captured by the Germans in 1914, and who admitte having joined >ap with the enemy. “This Irishman,” continued the Admiral, “said he joined up with the Germans on three conditions, all of which were kept. The first was that he should not be ihacto to fight on the Western front, the second was that he should wear his own uniform, winch was to be of green woven cloth, covered with shamrocks; the third that ho should choose his own employment. ‘What employment did you choose X asked. ‘I chose to work in a Munich brewery, and I have been there ever since,’ was the answer.” ***** A DEMONSTRATION. With a case of eggs upon Ms bended back, the toiler made his way along the pavement. Guess what happened ? It did! Ruefully, the mail regarded the scattered debris of shells and running yolks. Then he proceeded to collect the few eggs that remained unbroken. A passing pedestrian volunteered a cheering word. “My poor man I’ he exclaimed. “Have you dropped your eggs?” i The luckless one scowled. “Oh .no! he answered acidly. “I’m just giving a free demonstration of our new system of open-air cookery. I’m making an omelette.” * * * * * NOTHING OF THE SORT. A farmer had a. dispute with his ' son. For some months they quarrelled away, and at last, wishing to settle matters one way or tho other, the farmer issued a summons against the young man. _ ... “Your namo Is Hezekiah Perkins, _is it not?” inquired 'tho opposing counsel. “It is, sir,” replied the farmer, m dignified tones. “You have brought this action against your son?” “I have sir.” “And do I understand you to say that you have ignored your son lor the past month?” “What?” asked the old man, somewhat puzzled. “Have you ignored your son for the past month?” “Oh, no,” said the old man, snaking his head. “I have had nothing whatever to do with him. ’ * * * * *

THE REASON WHY. After a lo'it of trouble <tho inhabitants of a little village were given a post office. For a time their pride in their acquisiton was intense, then complaints began to reach the head office that lettets were not being sent off properly, so an inspector was ordered to see to it. “What becomes of the letters posted here?” lie asked the village postmaster, who was also the local grocer, baker, and shoemaker. “'Hie people say they are nut being sent away.” ‘“Course they ain’t,” said the old man, angrily, as he pointed to a nearly empty mail bag in the corner. “I haven’t sent it because it ain’t full yet.”

First Lawyer: “My client is willing to do the light thing.” Second Ditto: <( S« is mine.” “In that case matters ought to be easy.” “I don’t know. The next question is: what is the right thing?” “Well?” “And I fear it will take a long law suit to settle that,’-’