THE LIGHT COLUMN.

Rangitikei Advocate and Manawatu Argus, Volume XLV, Issue 12016, 4 March 1920, Page 2

THE LIGHT COLUMN.

ALLEGED HUMOURON THE BOUNCE. They were comfortably off as a result of “goot piziness” during the war, and were sitting in one of their confreres’ drawingrooms at an evening party, listening to a duet played by their host’s daughters. “I don’t think they are as well off as they pretend to be,” said the hus- « .. ct‘v>aa mirMPi 1)£IZ)(1. ' tStßEmaif “ “Why?” questioned the wife. “If they were, they would have been able to buy another piano, instead of being shown up by allowing these girls to play on the same instrument. ’ ’ *. NO PROSPECT THEBE. The morning after her little party Mrs Gathere rushed to her daughter’s room. “What was young Lord Peckham saying to you in the conservatory last night?” she demanded breathlessly. “You know, while he was trying to fasten on your glove?” “Oh he only said that firms who make gloves so hard to button as those of mine ought to give up the business,” replied the girl, frankly. “Was that all?” sighed the mother regretfully. “Well, my dear, take my advice, and waste no more time on him. ”

WATER POWER TOO :DEVELOPED The Swiss hostleler was displaying the distant view with pride to a group of his guests. Pointing to the various torrents and waterfalls around, he said portentously: “There is a fortune for any man able to utilise all the water running to waste here —” “I think yon said all that water was running to waste,’’ interrupted a particularly soured looking guest. “I did,” assented the landlord curtly, smelling a rat. “I thought that I had misunderstood you, ” returned the guest, “for a good deal of that water seems to be finding its way into the wine and beer I’ve been having at your hotel. ” TOO PREVIOUS. “May I,” the young man began with a quaver in hia voice, “may I presume so far upon our short acquaintance as to ask you—” “Please say no more,” faltered the maiden. “I regret deeply to give you pain, but if I have inadvertently encouraged you to entertain hopes that can never be realised, I cannot forgive myself. Believe me, I am sincerely—” “Pardon me,” interrupted the youth, who had gasped once or twice, and drawn his hand across his brow while she was speaking, “but I was only going to ask you the loan of a penny for my car '‘fare; I was stupid enough to come away from home without any money. Ah 1 thank you : Good night,” WORSE TO FOLLOW. There was a little doubt about it; was not a success as a melodraj matic actor. The part of the dashj ing hero in “The Mystery of the ) Pickled Cabbage” did not suit him at all. He stammered over his linos, and sometimes even forgot what he had to say; nor did he lay his hand on his heart a sufficient number of times, nor roll his eyes about like a fish. Whereat he found much disfavour in the eyes of the gallery. Just before the crisis of the play he clasped the heroine to hia manly bosom, and cried in broken accents—- “ Sweet one, keep a brave heart! The worst is yet to come!” Promptly came a voice from the gallery: “Yer ain’t goin’ to sing, are.yer?”

; a::;boomerang. Two merchants, Bob and Bobus, were intimate friends, and when business was dull they used to drop into one another’s stores. On one such occasion a canvassing stranger, soliciting contributions to a chanty, accosted Bobus standing in front of his own store stove. Bobus referred the canvasser to his friend “the proprietor, ” “You will find him a very liberal man,” said he. “He is back there behind the counter.” On his approaching Boh, the latter asked the stranger how much the merchants of the neighbourhood were generally contributing. “Some are giving as much as a dollar, but we are grateful for any sum. ” “Bobus,” called Bob, “give this young man two dollars out of the vLX £• Wd. • Nycffcni * * ~ ‘ ne*t*c» VSSTT333 And Bobus, the joker, had to joke himself out of two dollars. ’