Shaun's Patch

Southland Times, Issue 21657, 19 March 1932, Page 6

Shaun's Patch

A little nonsense now and then Is relished by the wisest men. —Hudibras.

Evidently the Government regards the report pf the Economy Commission as a curate’s egg. * z All that remains is to reach agreement as to which are the excellent parts. There seems to be more compulsion than conciliation in the House during the discussion of the “compulsory conciliation” scheme. * An increase in Britain’s duty on foreign sugar will be sweet to Queensland. * De Valera says that if the oath is removed there will be no reason for the existence of the Irish Republican Army. There never was any reason in its existence; but de Valera may find it easier to abolish the oath than the I.R.A. ♦*■ * * I suppose at the end of the race at Agua Caliente most of the horses will consider it a far lap. **♦ , * The closure seems to be the heating system of the House. DESPERATE DEFINITIONS. Cec offers: A jniik jug: A suitable breakfast table adornment for supporting the morning paper. A postage-stamp: An excellent substitute for chewing gum. A match: An indispensable adjunct to a petrol cigarette lighter, t A song-crooner: A. person who is not invited down for the week-end twice. * * * * Babe Ruth has been compelled by the depression to accept only 70,009 dollars. Well, he knew his baseball club couldn’t be ruthless. THE INNOCENTS. She thought net profits were made by fishermen. * * - •* ♦ A PRESCRIPTION. From a chemist: A: Mrs Pepper sent me for some borax. B: Are you sure Mrs Peppermint borax, I prefer boracic. A: Soda I, but it does Nutmeg any difference, that’s what I Camphor; what does it Sulphur. B: Sixpence an ounce. I’ve never Cinnamon with so much wit. A: I should Myrrh, Myrrh, yet Ammonia novice. Give me an ounce, I pay for it again, my brother Aloes me two shillings. B: I Walnut, he has not Benzine for months, you Butternut ask for credit here. * * * * LINES TO NO LADY. I heard you talk across the fence Unto your neighbour, i And her great paucity of sense With vim belabour. I heard you flay her penury And tell your sorrow That she had not returned the tea You let her borrow. I heard you with unfriendly purrs Ask who bought her Those most revealing sets of furs For self and daughter. I heard you leave the wordy war With lip still twitchin’. And noticed that you slammed the door Into your kitchin.