EDITOR’S WALLET.

Otago Witness, Issue 3102, 27 August 1913, Page 73

EDITOR’S WALLET.

I “ Well, old fellow, I hear that your grandmother is dead.” “Yes, she died yesterday,” replied the old fellow, somewhat sadly. “It is the way of the world. We must all die some time, and the okl lady was well advanced in years.” “She loft a will and testament?” j “Oh. yes, she left a will and testament” still more sadly. “You were always a favourite ot hers. I Your name was mentioned, oi course 1 “ Yes,” ho replied, and the tears began to stream down his cheeks. “ niy name was mentioned' I’m to Infra the testament.” i

Act a Cannibal.

I “ The worst winter I remember was when we were besieged,” said the okl soldier. ! “Wo only had one bite a day for two weeks, and that was horseflesh.” I “ I remember,” said his tramp companion, I ’living for a month on one bite, and that 1 was out of niv own log.” “ You okl cannibal! Do you expect me to believe that?” roared the soldier, j “It’s true; believe it or not,” said the tramp calmly. “ A dog took a bite out of my leg, and the compensation kept me like I a lord for four weeks.”

Love's Sweet Dream.

i It was indeed a beautiful night. r i bo i gentle zephvrr. played musically amid the I delicate frond? ot the turnip-tops and wafted from far distant fields the subtle perfume of the luscious onion and the fragrance of decaying cabbages. “Betsy,” lit: whispered, as they sat together on the fence surrounding Mr Filligan’s pigsty, “’ow beautiful you be! Jest think of it, Betsy. When us be married us will have a pig of our own! Think of that. Betsv!” “ lan.” she whispered, a note of resentment in her voice, “ what do I rare for pigs? I eha’n’t want a pig when I’ve got you.” Then all was silent onee more, save for the musical frolics of the zephyrs already mentioned.

i Couldn’t Help Him.

1 He was a surly and quarrelsome old farmer, and ibe only person of any importance who had managed to avoid clashing with him was the mild-mannered vicar. But even this forbearing gentleman lost his temper when the farmer impudently turned his horses loose in the churchyard and refused to take them out again. High words ensued, and the vicar so far forgot himself as to call the fanner a “ brokendown old rnulo.’’ i Off went the farmer on the instant and . crashed noisily into the village lawyer’s office. | “The vicar has just called mo a brokenI down old mule,” he bawled. “ What am ! I to do?” Now, the lawyer had once received a I-severe rebuff from the farmer, and had waited for years for a chance to repay it. j Here was his opportunity, and he seized it with bolh hands.

Don’t come to me about that,” he said coolly. I can’t patch you up. I'm no veterinary surgeon.”

Lost Property.

Smith had just been operated on for ap. pendioitis. During his period of convalescence he became quite chummy with the two other patients who shared the ward with him. “How are you feeling, boys?” said Smith one morning to them. “ Oh, we are all right!” they both answered together, ” considering that we had to undergo two operations.” Wily, how was that?” questioned Smith m an agitated voice. 1 Because the doctor assigned to this ward Is an idiot. In collecting his instruments after the operation he missed a needle and a scissors. The former ho found in me, and the latter in my friend here on the right. You sec now the reason for the two operations.” J.ust then the surgeon put his head in the door and asked : “Has anyone seen my silk hat?” Smith fainted.

Complete Satisfaction.

Squire: “Ah, Mould! how about that horse 1 sold you?” I. ndertaker: “ Well,- sir, it did give us a little trouble at first. Wo put him in one of the mourning coaches, you know, and parties don’t like lo bo shook up in their grief. But we’ve put him in the hearse now, and we haven’t had any complaints so far.”

On (teaching Home.

A man with a very red face met a. friend on the street and the following con versa* tion took p'ace;— “ Yon look warm." “Yes, been chasing a hat.” " Did your hat blow off?" ‘‘lt wasn’t my hat, it belonged to some* one else. There was a pretty girl under it." - ‘‘Did you catch it?” I should say I did. My wife saw m» chasing it.”

Turning the Laugh.

Y hen the sleight-of-hand artist calls on© of the audience to “aid” in a trick, ho generally manages to “ get the laugh ” on this obliging person, but not always, as the following plainly shows: The conjurer in the village schoolroom had invited any gentleman from the audience to step up on the platform, and a rustic in velveteen coat responded. “Now, air," said the professor, “I suppose you consider it a matter of impossibility for mo to make that rabbit in the box on the table pass into your coat-tail pocket?" "1 dunno about impossible,” came tha reply, “ but I wouldn’t do it if I was you, sir.” “Ob. you’ll be in no danger, I can assure you," smiled the sleight-of-hand man airily. “ I worn’t thinkin’ about myself,'*’ the rustic answered. “ I was studyin’ the rabbit. I've got a couple of ferrets in thal there pocket.”

iMjnriiijr Deeply.

A certain stingy son of Erin, upon seeing another Irishman just going to drink a glass of whisky, exclaimed: ” “ Hoiild on, Pat, let an (tnld friend liav© a drop, tlie last taste in the wurruld.” II is friend passed tile glass, and the stingy one emptied it. Pat was naturally annoyed and said: " Bcdad, I thought you said you only wanted a drop?” We may guess his feelings when he received the reply: ! ‘ The drop I wanted was at the bottom.”

Many a True Word —

’Twas still early morning when Dennis, an ardent lover—an Irish and practically penniless lover—shyly went round the back of the big house to greet his lady-love. “ Ah, Bridget, me darlint!” he exclaimed, producing from behind him a bunch of roses, “ I thought you’d like ’em. They were raised in the ould sod —raised in the ould sod o' Oireland ” ‘‘How swats of ye. Dennis!” cried his delighted lady-love. ‘‘ Simply lovely they are, and so fresh ! Sure, I do believe there's a little dew on ’em yet!” Dennis looked slightly disconcerted, and flushed a tribe. Ho was thinking of the bill—not of the moisture. “ Bogorra. 1 know there is!” he reluctantly murmured. Then, with face suddenly clearing: ‘‘But. praise the saints, it’ll bo settled to-morrow!”