SHORT STORIES.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20656, 30 August 1930, Page 8 (Supplement)

SHORT STORIES.

THE EIGHT ATMOSPHERE. Scribbcr dashed into the editor's office. " Can I liave ten hob advance on the story I'm writing?" ho asked. The editor looked up from his desk. " That is a very unusual request," ho murmured. Scribbcr gavo an appealing look. "I know," lie returned; " but it's like this. I've got to a point in tho story where the hero sits down to a square meal, and I want to get the right atmosphere." THE USUAL WAY. The stout woman had been in the boot shop nearly an hour, and the patient shop assistant had had half the stock down for her inspection. " Theso would suit you," he said, as a last resource, taking down yet another pair. But si ill she was not satisfied. I don't, like these," she said. " They have a tendency to get wider when they are a hit old." " Well, madam," replied tho exasperated assistant, "didn't you?" TRUE TO ADVERTISEMENT. Mr. Packham, tho village grocer, was gradually losing his temper with bis new boy assistant. " Look brre, my lad," ho said, " for the seventh time this week I've caught you sleep in the shop. What do you mean by it?" " Well, sir," replied the puzzled youth, pulled a much-thumbed piece of paper from his trousers pocket, " this advertisement says that you want a boy to sleep on tho premises. DISAPPOINTED LOVE. ' The daughter of the house arrived homo one night looking very sad. " Whatever's the matter?" asked her mother. " Oh, I thought John loved me," tho girl explained, " but now I know he's not going to propose —at least not for some time." " Why, how do you know ?" asked her mother. " Because he sent me a big box of stationery with my initials monogramed on it—and there's enough to last mo for six months." WANTED A SURPRISE. The mother had gone to great pains to explain to her small son what he should do with tho piece of wedding-cake his sister had sent him. Tho boy departed upstairs, promising to do what his mother had told him. " Well, Jimmy," she asked him tho following morning, " did you put tho cake under your pillow as I told you, and dream of your future w-ifo?" Jimmy shook his head. " No mother," he replied. " I changed my mind and ate the cake, because I want my future wife to be a surprise." ' McTAVISH'S GOOD SENSE. The rain was pouring down in torrents McTavish had neither an overcoat nor an umbrella. Yet he insisted on climbing to the top of the 'bus and sitting down there. With muttered curses, the conductor went up to collect his fare. " Why don't you come and sit inside?" he asked. " There's plenty of room." McTavish grinned. " I have good sense, laddie," lie replied. " You see, if I get wet through, the wife might allow me to have a wee drappic when I reach home." QUESTION AND ANSWER. The class were standing by their desks and the teacher was walking up and down inspecting the children's books. On approaching one of the boys, she noticed a price ticket attached to his trousers.

" Tommy," she cried in a tone of amazement, " do you know you have a price ticket on your trousers?" The boy, however, showed no surprise at being told this; instead, he calmly replied : " Yes, teacher, they might have to go back to morrow." BUYING A PRESENT. A sweet young thing entered a clothier's shop. " I want a present for an old gentleman," she said. " Yes, madam," replied the assistant, "something nice in ties?" " No,' not a tie," said the girl, " he has a beard." "Well, what about a waistcoat?" ventured the man behind the counter. " I don't think that's much good," was the answer, " you see, he has a long beard." The assistant sighed wearily. " Well, how about some carpet slippers ?" he burst out in desperation. SEE HAD TRIED BEFORE. The big woman was called to give evidence against her erring husband. " Well, and what is your complaint?" asked the magistrate, recognising tho face of an old offender. " He earns threo pounds a week," the woman commenced, " and he refuses to give me a penny of it. He wants me and the kids to starve, the brute." The magistrate looked grave. " This certainly sounds a very bad business," he said, " but I don't like to see you coming here about it. Are you sure you cannot settle this matter out of court'!" The big woman gave a convincing nod. " Quite sure your worship," she replied. " I've tried several times, but the police havo always butted in." RED FOR DANGER. Murphy had obtained a job as porter to a little country railway station. " Come with mo and I'll show you round," said the stationrnaster. Murphy followed, and after he had been shown where everything was kept the stationrnaster told him to fill the lamps in the signals. Five minutes later tho stationrnaster again visited tho oil-shed to seo how his new assistant was getting on, and was surprised to find the new hand emptying littlo drops of oil out of each can on to the floor. " Good gracious, man," ho cri'jd, whatever are you doing?" Murphy shook his head sheepishly. " I'm looking for tho red oil for the danger signals," ho replied.