NOTHING SERIOUS.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 30, Issue 17, 1 March 1918, Page 7

NOTHING SERIOUS.

For an hour the captain had been lecturing his men on “The Duties ol a Soldier,” and he thought that the time had come for him to test the results of his discourse.

Casting his eye around the room he fixed on Private Murphy as his first victim.

“Private Murphy,” he asked, “why should a soldier be’ready to die for his country ?” The Irishman scratched his head for a while.; then an ingratiating and enlightening smile flitted across his face. “Sure, captain,” he said, pleasantly, “you’re quite right. Why should he ?”

The ' teacher’s last question was meant to be a scientific poser. “What is that which pervades all space,” she said, “which no wall or door or other substance can shut out ?”

No one had an ’ answer ready but Freddy Sharpe. “The smell of onions, miss,” he said, promptly.

Private Bates, among oth-?r dainties in his parcel, received a bottle of cherries • preserved in'brandy. Very choice, thought the khaki ad on?, and he straightway showed them tb his chums. A few days later the oJ-d lady who had sent the gift received the following letter “Dear Aunt, thanks much I for your gift of cherries. My pals and I appreciated them immensely,* not so much for themselves, as for the spirit in which they wore sent.”

A little while ago Jones managed to get a.good record of his • parrot’s cries on a cylinder. By way of experiment he set it going whilst Poll was in the room.

"Pretty Poll 1 Scratch a Poll ! Give me a bit of sugar, uncle!” whirled the machine.

The parrot looked scared. “I want some sugar, some sugar !” came from the gramophone. “Great Scot !” screeched Polly, a* she looked down the trumpet. “What a beak for sweetsteff I”

Bismarck once attended a gathering of prominent men at the house ol a Russian nobleman.'- During all the conversation he was particularly sarcastic, cutting friends and opponents unsparingly. When he rose to take his leave and walked'-downstairs, the host called a pet dog that was frisking about and led him to one side. “Are you afraid the dog will bite me ?” asked Bismarck.

“Ob, no,*’’ replied the host. “ I’m afraid you’ll bite the dog.”

Seth Woodbury was a tight-fist*d, hard-hearted old farmer. His brother William dying, the neighbours said from lack of proper treatment, fjoth hitched up and drove into town to have a notice about his death inserted in the weekly newspaper.

“There ain’t no charges, be there ?’ he-asked, anxiously.

“Oh, yes, indeed,” answered the advertisement manager , “our price is 5/ an inch.”

-“Cracky,” muttered the old man, “an' Bill six foot two.”

DANIEL UP-TO-DATE

The enterprising impreseario of the mammoth circus offered £IOO to any member of the audience who would enter the lion’s cage. He made the invitatiou nightly, but no one seemed in a hurry to accept it until one evening a very sbccpish-looking individual rose from hia seat and shouted :

“If you please, sir, I should life that hundred pounds.” The audience was horror-stricken, but the impressario replied, with a contemptuous ahth- rather incredulous smile :

“Oh ! so you want to go into the lion’s cage, do you ?” “Certainly !” said the man, starting to make his way from the audience.

"Very well, then ; -come along. X will open the door for you and youcan walk in.”. “Ah !” said! the man, stepping forward with a knowing wink. “I’ll go in, but you will have to. take the lion out first. What you said wan that you would give a hundred pounds to anyone going into the lion’s cage.”

WHAT THE SMALL MAN DREAMT A member of the company seated in a train the other day had been relating some wonderful stories of dreams fulfilled. Suddenly he turned on the diminutive passenger who had smiled at one,of hisiyarns. “Yon appear to doubt my word, air !” he remarked. “Perhaps you imagine that dreams ha ve no value ?” “Mine hadn’t!” murmured the little man. “Indeed! And what did you dream?” “That a big black dog sprang out of a dark passage and took about a pound out of the call of my leg ! Strange to say,” he continued, “the dog that actually did bite me was the dog of my dream !” “There you are, then,!” ejaculated the other man. “If you’d valued the dream at its proper worth you’d have been on the lookout for that dog, and might have escaped. And yet you say that dreams have no value!” “And I repeat, sir, that mine hadn’t, for, unfortunately, I met the dog before I had the dream !” -Teacher : “Now, Edward, we are taught that when someone smites us on one cheek we are to turn the other. Isn’t that a beautiful ■ sntiment ” Edward (doubtfully): "Y-e-s.” Teacher : “Now, if a boy were to smite you on one cheek, what would you do ?” Edward (frankly): “Well, it would depend on the size of the boy,”