IN LIGHTER VEIN

King Country Chronicle, Volume XXVIII, Issue 4528, 7 April 1934, Page 7

IN LIGHTER VEIN

Walton: This is my favourite month. I wish it would last for

evei. Dalton: I have a bill due the first of next month, tuo.

Composer! What do you think of my new song? Critic: It needs ventilating. Composer: Needs ventilating? Critic: Yes, the air is bad.

“Can’t yez get it out, Mike?” said Pat to a friend who was trying to extricate a cork from a bottle of

wipe. “I can,” said Mike, “I’ll git it out, shure, if I have to push it in.”

THE SCORE

She (at an operatic performance): What’s that book the conductor’s looking at? He: That’s the score of the over-

ture. She: Oh, really? Who’s winning?

OBSOLETE WORD

Someone trying to be candid towards a flapper told her that her hair looked “exactly like a mop.” “And what does -a mop look like?” she asked sweetly. ABSOLUTELY ALONE. Two youths visiting an art gallery saw a portrait labelled “Mr. Smith, by himself.” “Of course he’s by himself,” said one. “Anybody can see there’s no one else in the picture.” “Where did you get all that money?” “Borrowed it from Wilson.” “But I thought he was pretty tight.” “So he was.” “Officer, I left my car here a few minutes ago, and now it’s gone.” “It must have been stolen, sir.” “No, it couldn’t be that. It was insured against theft.” A DIFFICULTY. Slowly, with a menacing look m his eyes, the bulldog approached the two street musicians. The men looked at him out of the corners of their eyes, and the'n slowly edged away.

“I say, Bill,” said the man with the banjo suddenly, “blow hard on your cornet; perhaps it’ll frighten him away.”

“Yes, that’s all very well,” said Bill with a doubtful grimace. “But if it doesn’t do the trick, where’ll I get the wind to run away with?”

A big-game hunter, contemplating a trip to Africa, called at a gunmaker’s and bought a large quantity of cartridges.

“I usually deal with head office,” he remarked to the man in charge. “But I daresay you will be able to send them for me?” “Certainly, sir.” “Well, I want them to go to Nigeria.” The other looked blank for a minute or two, then: “I think you’d better give the order to our head office, sir,” he ventured. “You see, we’ve only a small boy with a bike here.” IN A RUT. Creditor: Now that you’ve come into a fortune, sir, I think you ought to pay my bill. New-rich: Do you suppose that just because I have money I’m going to change my ways? WHAT SHE NEEDED. “Well, he’s certainly done Auntie justice in this portrait.” “My dear, it wasn’t justice she wanted —it was mercy.” “I thought of giving my uncle a hundred cigars like these. Can you think of anything he would like better?” “Yes, fifty.” LESSONS SHE LIKED. “Miss James is learning to ride a bicycle,” said Freeman, with a wry smile. “Really?” said his companion. “But she rode o'ne last year. Why is she learning again?” “Well, last year her brother taught her,” explained Freeman, “but this year her brother’s friend is doing it.’’ ONE WAS ENOUGH. It was fairly early in the morning when the travelling salesman knocked at the cottage door. The harassed householder arrived at the door with his six-months-old baby in his arms. The salesman unfastened his bag and displayed its contents, but before he could say a word the father indicated the baby and said: “Look here. Do I look as if 1 needed an alarm clock” FAME ENOUGH. “You told me before we were married that you would become famous,” sobbed his wife. “What more fame could a man desire than to be known as your husband?” he inquired gently. And, 10, she was comforted.

Smith noticed a shilling on the lloor of a large store.

After glancing cautiously round to see that no one was looking he took out his handkerchief and dropped it on top of the coin. He then picked up the handkerchief but the coin struck firmly to the floor. He stood up hastily as he heard a shop assistant approach him.

“Excuse me, sir,” said the assistant, “now that you have tested the powers of our famous glue, would you care to buy a bottle?”

The young student of evolution button-holed a gentleman and fired his pet query: “Can you tell me which came first —the bird or the egg?”

‘They came together,” sighed the down-and-out actor.

Matrimonial Agent: There is one other lady I can offer you—but I will be honest with you and tell you in advance that she squints and has false teeth.

Applicant: False teeth. Are they gold?

Policeman (to clubman returning home late): Here, you can’t open the door with that —it’s your cigar. Clubman: Great Scott! then I must have smoked my latchkey.

Patron (angrily): Bring me some lunch.

Restaurant Waiter: But you’ve already ordered breakfast, sir. Patron: Yes; but it was breakfast time then.

The bushrangers ordered the coach passengers to line up and be searched. McTavish thought rapidly, then pulled out his wallet and handed it to the storekeeper, a fellow-passenger. “Here, mon, here is that five pounds 1 owe ye—gie me my change to-mor-row.” “I don’t see how you can call your place a bungalow,” said Smith to his 'neighbour. “Well, if it isn’t a bungalow, what is it?” said the neighbour. “The job was a bungle, and I still owe for it.”

“Does that dog bite?” a traveller asked the farm hand.

“No, boss,” he replied; but the dog rushed out and bit the traveller on the leg. “I thought you said he didn’t bite,” the traveller remarked. “That’s the first time, boss,” came the reply. “Yer see, he’s never been off the chain ter get a cha’nce before.”

“Why did you hand the boy in the cloakroom such a big tip when he gave you your coat?” “Just look at the coat he gave me.”

“Is she a progressive or a conservative sort of woman?”

“It’s hard to say. She wears a last years’ hat, drives a this year’s car, and lives on next year’s income.”

Wifie: Dear me! You can never find a thing without asking me where it is. How did you get along before you married? Hubby: Things stayed where they were put then. Patient: I went to the chemist Doctor: Chemists can’t tell you anything helpful, madam. Patient: And he told me to come to you. Hostess: Then you managed to get here to-night, after all. Absent-minded Friend: Yes; I meant to forget to come, but I forgot to forget it. It was near the end of the third round, and Battling Ginsburg was hammering away for all he was worth. The bell rang, but the Hebrew paid no attention. It was then that the referee came between the boxers, and tapping Ginsburg o'n the shoulder, yelled: “Time.” “Look, look!” laughed the Hebrew, still jabbing right and left, “just ven he sees me getting the best of the fight, he wants me to tell him vot time it is!”

After a stern chase the cop had run his man to earth in a lane that was coated with inches of liquid mud. Here the suspect showed fight, and before the policemen had time to draw his truncheon the struggle had developed into a wrestling match. Both strongly built, they struggled fiercely, until the prisoner tripped and fell heavily into a pool of muddy water, with the officer on top of him. A slight tap on the head with the policeman’s truncheon put the man in a more amiable frame of mind, and he allowed the handcuffs to be slipped on his wrists. On the way to the police station, the captor, rather irritably, drew the prisoner’s attention to the indescribable state of his new uniform. The prisoner gazed at the mud for a moment, and then drawled: “That’s the worst of navy blue. It shows every mark.”