Spare Half-hours. CHILD HUMOUR.

Otago Witness, Issue 1436, 31 May 1879, Page 23

Spare Half-hours. CHILD HUMOUR.

By Henky Lapham.

All persons who have read "Helen's Babies," and everybody who en joys a hearty laugh should make the acquaintance of Budge and Toddy, will acknowledge that the oharm of the story lies in the natural way in which the children are drawn. They are not clever, nor witty, nor Bharp— they are simply natural, not very good boys, who ask questions about everything, and make their own remarks thereupon. They are original only so far as all children would be if they were not forced too soon to study propriety and say pretty and polite things with which the hearts of parents are so flfrsily delighted. It is strange and pitiable to notioe how early children are taught to muse in their walks, to drawl out complimentary phrases, not to say what they really think, or ask questions about what puzzles, because it would be unpolite and troublesome. In a word how soon they learn to copy the falseness and hypocrisy of the grown-up world about them. There oannot be a more engaging companion than a gentle, good-humoured outspoken, eager child, who asks questions about everything he sees around him, and even propounds some queries that sages would be puzzled to solve. I remember once walking with a youngster of this character, and coming to a, hollow, or some sort of small cave in the bill Bide. " What made the hole ?" quoth he. " Oh, nature," I answered oracularly. " Natuie. Well, what's nature ?" was the next query, and I was fairly caught. Children very rarely say sarcastic things with the intention of hurting the feelings of another. This trick of speech is developed later on when they grow less careless of the feelings of other people, and more ready to be proud of the name of being witty, however muoh they make a gentle nature writhe at their own words; but I once heard a very young lady deliver a very sharp thrust. There was a fellow in the township whom this young lady— she must have attained the ripe age of five years at this time— greatly disliked. He was not a proposseßsing man in any way. His face was round, fat, and entirely free from beard or whiskers j nevertheless, he was not a little proud of his personal appearance. He was standing in a shop one day when the child came in, and as his fashion was, began to tease. Finally he said " Well, come along now, and give me a kiss." The little girl looked up into hia hairless face, and replied, with a fine air of disdain, "No; I never tiss Chinamen." That is a good story that Dean Ramsay tells about the little boy who lived with a miserly old uncle, and was almost starved by him. One day the uncle, who, by the bye, was an elder, the boy, and a minister were walking along the street, when they met a poor, half-starved hound, and the boy exclaimed in tones of fervent pity, "Aye, doggie, doggie, do you live wi' your uncle too, that ye're so thin 1" I think grown persons are sometimes a little too ready to accuse children of irreverence towards things sacred, forgetting that the young mind cannot conceive the idea of heaven without mixing up with it some of the materiality of earth. I remember a boy once asking whether if all the men who were killed in the Franco-Prussian war went to heaven, the Almighty would not have to add some new rooms. Once while talking to a little fellow of a mutual friend who had lately died he inquired gravely and sorrowfully, " whether Mr G would not be very cold this winter with nothing on but his wings." There was at one time a piece of slang very current on the goldfields. It was used as an expression of contempt or de rision— it was "to jo"— a person. One Sunday,, being asked by a boy to read him a scripture story, I inquired'what one he would like. "Oh," was his reply, "read about 'the naughty boys that joed the prophet." The slang so used had a most ludicrous effect. As an excellent example of childish humour, I will quote a story from that most instructive and pleasant of recent works on Etymology, Earle's Philology of the EDglish Tongue." Some little girls were asked by an inspector of schools whether they knew what 'was the meaning of the word scandal. One little girl stepped vigorously forward, and, throwing up her hand in tbat semaphore fashion by which ohildren indicate the possession of knowledge, attracted the notice of the inspector. He desired her to answer the question, upon which she uttered these memorable 'words : " Nobody does nothing, and every, body goes on telling it everywhere."— 'Good Words,' 1872. I very much doubt if the 'wisest man amongst us could frame a more 'comprehensive definition than that. One iwonfd scarcely expect to find in a grave treatise such as this of Mr Earle's anecdote of child life ; nevertheless, he does tell some capital stories that add muoh to the pleasantjness of his volume. Perhaps some young ladies may be wise enough to confess that the little maid in the following story only told the mere truth. I hope there are

damsels candid enough so to do. This is the story :-A little girl was rebuked by her 'grandmama for playing with the boys out of doors, and informed that, now being feeven years old, she was too big for that now. But , she replied innecently : ' ' Why, grandmama, the bigger we grow the better we like them." Grandmama took time to think it -over. A schoolmaster was once tryingto ■ explain to a little- girl the manner in which r a lobster casts his shell when he has outgrown it. He said : " What do yon do with - yoar clothes when you have outgrown them. You throw them aside, don't you?" "Oh, . no," replied the little one, "we let out the tucks."

There is a very good story told about a

lady teacher, who was giving a lesson on ' Ruth in a Sunday ' School. She wanted to - bring out the kindness of Boaz in command-

iog the reaper* to drop larger handfuls of wheat. "Now, children," sbe said, "Boaz did another nice thing for Ruth ; can you tell me what that was T' " Please ma'am, he married her," replied a maiden with a bashful look. And that teacher, if a sensible .woman, must cordially have agreed. Diefondness for children is well known

— he never sketched anything better than the dialogue between Old England and Young Ireland in his letter written to Foster, whilst reading in Dublin. Old England : Holloa, old ohap Young Ireland : Hal 100 ! Old England (in his delightful way : What a nice old fellow you are, I am very fond of little boys. Young Ireland : Air yez ? Ye'r right. Old England: What do you learn at school, old boy ? Young Ireland : I lairn wureds of three sillibels— and wureds of two sillibels— and wureds of wan &illibel.

Old England (cheerfully) : Get out, you humbug. You only learn words of one syllable. Young Ireland (laughing heartily) : You may say that, it ia mostly wureds of wan sillibel. Old England : Can you write ? Young Ireland : Not yet. Things come by daygrees. Old England : Can you make figures ? Young Ireland : I can make nought, which is not aisy, being round. Old England : I say, was that you I saw on Sunday in a soldier's cap 1 You know ! A soldier's cap ? Young Ireland (cogitating deeply) : Was it a very good cap ? Old England j Yes. Young Ireland : Did it fit unkommon ? Old England: Yes.

Young Ireland : Dat was me. I remember once a little girl, who was a great friend of our family. Her father was an inspector of police, and the child, who was allowed to run aboui; among the men, picked up some very queer sayings- The clergyman of the parish, who for the present we will cail Mr Blank, was a constant visitor in the inspector's family. One Sunday the child was taken to church for the first time. The service was held in a small schoolroom. She was placed standing on a seat, and remained very quiet listening to the voluntary. Then the clergyman appeared clad in his white surplice, and walked up the room. The child gazed at him in intense amazement for a minute, then exclaimed in a voice plainly audible to every person in that small room, "By jingo ! ma, there goes old Blank in his nightshirt !"