NOTHING SERIOUS.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 26, Issue 63, 3 August 1915, Page 8

NOTHING SERIOUS.

Some cricketers, after practising one evening, were telling stories in the dressing-room of their various record performances, and some wonderful yarns were related. At last one of their number, a notoriously bad bowler and batter, began : "Well, chaps, I don’t suppose yon wi.ll believe me, but I once scored a hundred runs, and followed it up by taking nine wickets; and I would have taken the other one,' but- —-” - "But what ?” queried his listeners, doubtinglyj as the speaker hesitated. "But my alarm-clock went oil and woke me up,” came the reply, as he dodged out of the room to escape a shower of bats and stumps. OVERHEARD IN THE TOY SHOP. “It is extraordinary that I still remained unsold,” said the Monkey-on-a-stick. "I don’t see why everybody doesn’t come and buy me.” “I guess it is because everybody goes by you,” grinned the rubber Doll with the whistle in his hat, winking at the Toy Cannon, who immediately exploded with laughter. “Dear me, dear me !” ejaculated the Wax Doll, fanning herself with her price ticket, "This place is frightfully hot.” "Yes,” said the Tin Soldier. “It’s getting hotter every minute, too. Why don’t you smile on the Music Box and get him to give us a little fresh air ?”

‘‘Hello, old chap !” said the Gane to the Walking Doll. 'Tut on your hat and let’s go for a stroll.” ‘‘Sorry, but I can’t; I’m all run down,” replied the Walking Doll. “Why doti’t you ask the Motor?” ‘.‘l did,” said the Cane. “Bat he’s tired.”

“My dear," called Mr. Noah to his wife, “will you please look out of the Ark window and see if it is still raining ?”

"‘l’d be glad to, n}y love,” said Mrs. Noah, in a muffled voice, “but really I’m wedged in so tight down here in the corber that I can’t move, what with the elephant, and kangaroo, and both, yaks sitting on my back.’’—“Harper’s Weekly.”

OUTBIDDEN. It was an indescribable horse, astd the bidding was not very brisk, la spite of the auctiomfer’s eloquent recital of his virtues. Slowly—very slowly— tfee pries rose to £B, and there stock ; and it seemed as though no power on earth could induce the company to offer another penny for the dilapidated steed. “No advance on eight? Going at eight ! For the last time at eight,” said the knight of the hammer. Just then a gentleman slowly strolled up, and, after carefully scrutinising the animal, said: “Stay! I’ll give eight-aad-six for him I" There may be nothing mv under the sun, but the druggist always has something just as pood.