WIT AND HUMOUR.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXI, Issue 4313, 23 March 1901, Page 3 (Supplement)

WIT AND HUMOUR.

HOW CONSIDERATE. Maud: “What an exquisitely dainty littl& case you arc embroidering; is it for jewels?” . Isabel: "Well, no. But you see, poor, dear Harry has nothing to keep his pawn tickets in!” HARD WORK. Hoax ; “ Why is tho merchant who d»osn't advertise like a man. in a rowing k°Joax : “ Because he goes backwards, I Sl i£oax: “No; because he has to get along without sales. ONE FOR THE DONKEY “Shall I order dinner for you?” asked the official cf the jury, while the twelfth man was holding out against the eleven. “Yes,” replied one of the eleven, “mane it eleven dinners and a bale of hay.’ AN ENEMY TO THE WEED. Charles: “is your girl opposed to ycur smoking?** , , . , Clarence: "I think she must be. Lvery night when I come away from her house I find two or three broken cigars in my vest pocket.’* a SUBURBAN’ CLOCK. Caller: “Goodness ! how late it is !” Mrs Suburb; “Oh. you mustn t go oy that clock. IBs two hours fast. Caller: “Well, why ever don’t you set it right ?** , _ ,2 Mrs Suburb: “Horrors—no! Don t touch it. That’s the clock my husband catches trains by !” SHE’S TOO BUSY. “I’ve got to stop dictating letters for a while now.” “Why?” “Our typewriter girl has begun to crochet herself a pink fascinator.” DID AS HE WAS TOLD. Timothy McShane had been arrested on the charge of ntealing a costly gilt chair from the residence of Mrs Highlone. On being arraigned before the judge. His Honor asked Tim what he had to say for himself, to which Tire replied; “Share, yer Honor, Oi will explain the hull t’ing to yez. I wint to say Mrs Hightone on bizness fer me boss. Oi rung bell, an" a sarvint kim to th’ dure, an whin Oi axed to say Mrs Hightone, th’ sarvint towld me to go into th parlor an take a chair.” “Well?” said tho judge. “Wull, Oi tuk this wan.” SUPERSTITION. “Come now, am yo’ in de least ways 'stitious’ bout sartin t’ings?” “I s’pose yo’ means by “’stitious superstitions, or wedder or not I’fi skewed ob ghosts ? No; I nebbah yet has saw a ghost dat I was sheered ob, ’an I’s seen lots of dem. too. I wnz made a little nu’ voua one ’casion, howebber. Dat wuz on ada k night, an’ I wuz coming , troo a lonely graveya’3. I seen some w’te objeo’s roun’ mo, an’ I’ll admit I walked up a little mo’ quicker.” ■ “Do yo’ believe yo seen dem ghosts? “Cau.se I do; but dey didn’t scar’ me much.’’ “Well, dep, yo's superstitions, fo dat is what it means. It means when you see ghosts an’ believe yo’ seen ’em, den yo’ is superstitions; but ef yo' see 'em an’ don t believe yo’ seen ’em, den yo’ ain’t superstitious.” THE. MAIN THING. Woman: “I’ve been assigned to discuss "Ideals’ at tho next meeting of tho Mothers Club.” Other Woman: “Have you thought what yon are going to wear?” Woman: “Oh, yes, and, in a general way, what I am going to say.” . THAT’S SO. Tho master wrote the following sentence on the blackboard as an exercise to be parsed:—“Who steals my purse steals trash.” A boy held np his hand, and was asked what was the matter. “Please, sir,” he said, “it’si wrong. It should be cash.” AN EXACT MAN. “You told me,” said the infuriated purchaser, “that that brook on the farm you sold me never ran dry.” “I did,” said the agent. “It has been dry all the summer.” “When it was dry it didn’t run, did it? Therefor© it could not run dry; we never deceive.” AFTER A STRUGGLE. “Qeorgie,” said a fond mother to a little four-year-old, “you must take the umbrella to school with you, or you will get wet—it rains hard.’’ “I want the little one,” he said, meaning tlie parasol. “No, my dear; that is for dry weather. Yon must take this, and go like a good boy.” Geergie did as he was bid, and got to school comfortably. After school hours it had stopped raining, and Georgia trudged home with the remnants of the umbrella under his arm. . “Oh, Georgie. what have you been doing j with my umbrella ?” said his mother, when , she saw the state it was in. “You should have let mo have the little one/' said he; “this was such a great one it took four of us to pull it through the door.” THE LAWYER IN EMBRYO. A father wishing to decide on a profession for his son, loft him in the room with i a work on theology, an apple and a piece of money. When he returned, if he found him reading the book, he intended to make a clergyman of him; if esting the apple, a farmer: if interested in the money a banker. • When he did return the boy was seated on the book, with the half-devour-ed apple in his hand, and th© money in his nocket. “That settles it,” said the father, “the lad’s a born lawyer, and a lawyer he shall be.” DEAD AGAINST IT. A female suffersge canvasser came with a uetition one day to an old farmer, and politely asked him if he would sign. Ho eyed the document suspiciously for a while, and then asked, “What is it?” “A petition in favour of the woman’s movement,” she responded in her most insinuating voice. “Then I'm agin it!” said the agriculturist, with the emphasis of a man. with some domestic infelicity. “A woman who’s alius a-movin’ is alius a-gettuT into trouble. If you’ve got anything to keep her still. ] I’ll sign it.” SOUNDED THE SAME. A lawyer living in a garrison town took on trial a rather raw-looking youth as office boy, and one of the first iobs given to him was to male a copy of, a letter. In lawyers’ offices it is customary to examine the copy with the original, to see that the former is correctly made. On this occasion, when the boy had got as far as the words. “I beg to acknowledge the receipt of you letter of the —th ult„” he said to him rather sharply. “Haddocks. what does hilt.’ mean?” The boy hesitated for a minute or two, and then stammered out, "Please, sir, it’s what they say to the soldiers when they want’s ’em to stop.”