SHORT STORIES.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20508, 8 March 1930, Page 8 (Supplement)

SHORT STORIES.

WITH LOUD EFFECTS. A lady motorist whose car had swerved across a street and crashed through a plate-glass window was being questioned by the police-sergeant. " Surely on a street as wide as this," he said in amazement, "you could have done something to prevent this accident?" " Ob, I did!" the lady assured him tragically, " I screamed as loud as I could." TOO MUCH TONE. "I'm afraid," said mother thoughtfully, " we shall have to stop giving Dick that tonic the doctor sent for him." " Why ?" exclaimed father anxiously. " Isn't it doing him any good ?" " Well, he slid down the banisters ten times this morning, broke a lamp, two vases and a jug, and kicked a football through the kitchen window, and I don't feel I can stand much more." LONG SERVICE. Her father was reading. Tho coast seemed clear. The young man approached, coughed, and stammered his momentous question. " I—-er. That is, I—er. I would liko to . I mean, I have . Well, sir, I've been going about with your daughter for five years now." "I know!" snapped the father angrily. " But what do you want—a pension ?" FAIR ENOUGH. The very rich man was addressing his daughter. "Look here, Doris!" he said. " I suppose I can't prevent your car instructor making love to you." " But, father " "Silence!" he interrupted. "If this man is going to make love to you lie must do it in his own time, and not when ho is charging me a guinea an hour for driving lessons." A BIG DROP. Father, mother and son lived in one of New York's highest skyscrapers. One morning, attracted by her little boy's cries, the mother rushed into tho room and found him leaning out of the window. "What's the matter, sonny?" she asked. "Father's fallen out of the window," "Oh! Is ho hurt?" shrieked the mother. " Not yet," replied the' boy. "He ain't stopped falling." SAFETY AFTERWARDS. Wilson was insuring his life. The insurance agent brought him the papers to sign, and Wilson sat down lo read them through. " By jovc!" he said, after he had read the third page. " There's a lot of them." " Yes," laughed the agent, " and I'm willing lo bet you, sir, you didn't read your marriage licence as carefully as you're reading these papers." " You're right," agreed Wilson. ".But ever since I signed that I'm reading everything." THE POSTSCRIPT. Little Tommy had been sent to try to borrow a gardening fork from the nextdoor neighbour. " Dad said will you lend him your fprk." he asked very impolitely. " But haven't you forgotten something?" reproved Jones, who was rather strict on bad manners. Tommy looked puzzled for a while, until suddenly be remembered. "Oh, yes!" he replied. "Dad said if the old miser refused, try Mr. Robinson next door. A LONG FAREWELL. Since Dixon, the young clerk, had been for a day trip to Dieppe, he was very fond of airing his small knowledge ol the French language in talking to his friends. " Au revoir," he said to his girl friend one night as he was about to depart. " What ever do you mean ?" she asked. *' That'means good-bye in French," explained Dixon. ." Oh!" murmured the girl Uioughliully. " Well, prussic acid to you." ' " What ever do you mean ?" asked Dixon. " . . ".That means good-bye in any language," she laughed. TEE TRUTH. The time had come for " Uncle" to have his annual sale, and prior to opening the shop 'he and his assistant were writing out cards and placing them on the goods to be disposed of. Toward the end of the task the assistant came to a' fur coat which had been hung on a wax figure for a number of years. After gazing at the coat for some time, being unable to decide what label to give it. he turned to "Uncle , " I'm afraid I can't put fashionable on this coat, sir," he confessed. It s far 100 old and moth-eaten. " Uncle" thought for a minute or two, and then replied. "Never mind. Place a card on it. • Very Much Worn.' " VERY ANNOYING. A man interested in social work went into a tenement district and, wishing to see a certain man, but having only a general idea as to where he lived, approached a small boy for information. "My boy," he said, " can you show me where Mr. Link lives? " Yes, sir," replied the boy, scenting a tip. " Come, with me." The boy entered a doorway and started to climb the difficult stairs. Up four flights he went, the visitor following breathlessly. Fin illy he paused at an open door. " This is the door," said the boy. "Mr. Link lives in there." " Looks as if we've had bad luck," remarked the visitor, peering into the room. " Mr. Link doesn't seem to be here." " No, sir," rejoined the boy. " That was him sitlin' on the front doorstep when we came in. OUT IN THE RAIN. " I say, daddy," said six-year-old Bobby, " may I go out this morning?" " Not to-day," returned his father. " It's raining, and you'll catch a cold." " But, daddy, I iike the rain," went on the child. " Please let mo go out." " No, Bobby," said his father sternly. " Here's a little book that I bought for you. It's called ' How to be Good,' and I want you to read it.'' Bobby sighed and took the book. However, ha was not silent for long, the very first sentence evoked fresh queries. " But, daddy," he said, reading from the book, " it says here that ' a man is known by tho company ho keeps.' Is that true"? Because if a good man keeps company with a bad man, is the good man bad because he keeps company with a bad man, or is tho bad man good becauso ho keeps company with the good man, or do they just change over? And, daddy, what happens if they go 011 keeping company with " " Bobby," gasped the boy's father, "you can go out in the rain!"