FUN AND FANCY.

Otago Witness, Issue 3196, 16 June 1915, Page 68

FUN AND FANCY.

Which is swifter, heat or cold? —Heat, because you can catch cold. Promises are worse than eggs—you can’t keep thorn after they are broken. A stingy man has not many friends and ho doesn’t need them so badly, either. When wo want to play tennis, it rains; when we buy a new raincoat, it doesn’t. Why is it? Some men would starve to death if their wives did not understand how to work a tin opener. Kicker: “So you think they lead a cat-and-dog life?” Bicker: “Yes; only the dog is muzzled.” “What do they mean by the horns of a dilemma?” “Two autos, I suppose, honking you at once.” “Do you keep servants?” asked the inquisitive neighbour. “Not long,” responded her truthful friend. “And, my dear, what mountains in domestic life give you the most trouble?” “The kitchen range.” Daughter : “What does old-fashioned mean?” Mother,: “Anything- that I think is right, and you don’t, dear.” There’s no place like home. After all, ju’s the only place where a man can be just as disagreeable as he likes. She: “Why do they paint the inside of a chicken-coop?” He: “To keep the hens from picking the grain out of the wood." One reason why a dog is spoken of as ono of the lower animals is because he does not pretend to like a man he doesn’t like. ; a social favourite. She doesn’t sing or play, or even recite.” “Probably that’s the reason.” » Mistress: “Bridget, it always seems to me that the worst mistresses get the bet cooks.” Cook: “Ah, go on wid yer blarney !” “The young lady doctor is making a dead set at Brewster.” “How do you know?” “She told him cigarettes are not injurious.” Small Eva: “How old are you, grandma?” Grandma: “How old do you think I am?” Small Eva: “Well, you don’t look awfully new.” Cnolly: “Before I met you I thought of nothing but making money.” Ethel: “Well, don’t stop. Father is not as rich as people think!” The teacher was holding ud a picture of a zebra. “Now, children, what is this?” “It looks like a horse in a. bathing suit,” answered little Arthur. vas dead.” “Ya; clot’s so.” “Yat vas der complaindt?” “No complaindt, Solly; he left us all somedings.” it you would probably find that fat people are a long way happier than people who are afraid of getting fat. “Our charwoman says that when she gets married, she is not going to henpeck er husband. If anything has to be done she intends to break his jaw.” The pessimist was suffering from rheumatism. “Every bone in my body aches,” ho complained. “You ought to be glad you are not a herring,” said the optimist. “So Mbs Banger played for you? She claims that she can make the piano speak.” “Well,. I’ll bet if it spoke it would say, ‘Woman, you have played me false.’” “Since the war began the women have been' taking the places of the men on the Paris- street cars.” ’“Well, they’d do it here, "but the men are too ill-mannered to get up.” Old Lady (to member of signalling section who has just commenced to reply to a message) : “Young man, if you think to alaxm me by wagging those flags about, you are very much mistaken !” “Why did’ your wife leave you?” “Force of habit, I guess. She was a cook before I married her.” “What is your son doing now?” “Wielding a paste-brush and scissors.” “Paper hanger or editor?” “The Assyrian lover carved his valentine on a slab of stone.” _ “A slab of eteno?” “Or else baked it in a brick.” “Well, I’m glad I wasn’t carrying letters when the post-card craze struck Babylon.” During the fighting a Highlander had the misfortune to get his head blown off. A comrade communicated the sad news to another gallant Scot, who asked anxiously: “Where’s his head? He was smoking ma pipe ” “Nothing lost here but the squeal,” declared the por knacker. “Are you as economical in conducting your business?” “Just about,” answered the visitor. “I’m in the lumber business. We waste nothing but the bark.” House Cat (to flock of sparrows) : 1 ‘No use sticking around torday, birdies—-there ain’t going to be any crumbs.” One Sparrow: “Folks gone away?” House Oat: “No; but they are going to have breaded veal chops for to-morrow.” Hawker: “Buy a flower, sir.” Billion : “No, thanks.” Hawker: “Buy one for your wife', sir.” Billion: “Haven’t one.” Hawker: “For your sweetheart, then.” Billion: “Haven’t one, either.” Hawker: “Well, buy one to celebrate your luck.” Boy Scout: “You can cross the ditch by this plank, sir. It will save you a long walk round.” Stout Gentleman: “Thank you, my hoy; I’m afraid it wouldn’t bear me.” Boy Scout: “That’s all right, sir. Wo have first aid and ambulance on the other side!” District Visitor: “I’ve just had a letter from my son Arthur, saying he has won a scholarship. I can’t tell you hoy.- pleased I am.” Rustic Party: “I can understand your feeling, mum. I felt just the same when our pig won a medal at the Agriculture Show !” “One of my daughters has tonsih'tis.” exclaimed. Mr Growler, “and the other has sprained her wrist.” “That’s hard luck.” “Yes; nothing seems to work out in the way it ought to. The one who sprained her wrist sings, and the one with a sore throat plays the piano.” An Irishman, passing through Trafalgar square the other day, stood for a minute to gaze with admiratoin upon the figure of Nelson. “Bedad,” said Pat, gaz : ng wistfully upward at the statue of England’s hero, “ ’tis fneself that would like to stand up there and then get down to see how I looked !” “And now. madam,” said the police official, “you will help us find your husband if you can tell us of some physical peculiarity by which our men will know him when they see him.” “Wei!, sir,” said the woman whose husband had. run away, “he has a very large Roman nose.” “In that case,” said the officer, “it will be’ hopeless $o look for him. That kind of a nose never turns up.” A little girl, whoso father was a commercial traveller, sat In the porch holding

a kitten in her arms and doing her little best to entertain it with a lively string of chatter. A thoughtful pause caused her mother, who was sitting behind her, to pay some attention to what was coming next. “Kitty,” said the young miss, “I knew all your little brothers and sisters, an’ I know your mamma; but I ain’t never seen your papa. I ’spec he must be a traveller.” sible ” —the Eastern prospector on the plains of New Mexico brought his jaws firmly together and his eyes gave forth a glitter of defiance—“of Western grit.” For one moment h» glared resolutely upon his dinner, which the winds had now nearly covered with a fine dry sand, picked a few of the larger pebbles out of his teeth, and went and gazed hungrily upon an aged and innutritions cactus plant. After a little dinner party, when all the guests were gathered in the drawing room, it was suggested' that every lady should state 'the gift she most coveted. With prompt acquiescence each announced her choice. Mrs Cowlton wished 1 for the most exquisite jewels extant, Mrs Koenson desired to bo the best-dressed woman in society, Mrs Houlton preferred to own the handsomest turn-outs, while Mrs 11; shy craved popularity. Suddenly a dense man exclaimed: “Heavens, don’t any of you care for beauty?” One day, as Pat halted at the top of the river-bank, a man famous for his inquisitive mind stopped and asked: “ Howlong have you hauled water for the village, my good man?” “Tin years, sor.” “ Ah! How many loads do you take in a day?” “From tin to fifteen, sor.” “Ah, yes! Now I have a problem for you. How much water at this rate have you hauled in all?” The driver of the watering-cart jerked his thumb backwards towards the river and replied : “All the water yez don’t see there now, sor.” A man who had seen the wide world, and spent many years in doing things that mattered, paid a visit to the town of his youth. He was accorded a banquet by his stay-at-home schoolmates, and_ went expecting a great talk over old times. But he w'as disappointed. They were hypochondriacs, and spent the evening in discussions about stomachs and livers and kidney, and the disorders incidental to the possession of such things. When the wanderer had got away, he was asked how he bad enjoyed the banquet. “Banquet?” he replied. “It wasn’t a banctuet; it Was an organ recital.”