THE CHESTNUT TREE.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume III, Issue 698, 6 May 1916, Page 4

THE CHESTNUT TREE.

"Lillian," said mother severely,] "there were two pieces of cake in the; pantry this morning, and now there is! only one. flow does this happen!'' "I don't know,'' replied Lillian regretfully. "It must have been so dark; I didn't see the other piece." ' Jerry: I have traced my ancestry back to an Irish king. Pat: Sure that's aisy. What chanst has a dead man to defend himself? "Guess the neighbours' chickens won't bother my garden next spring, "j "What are you going to raise?" j ''(.'actus, Spauish bayonet, and prickly pear. "He's so reckless he's always taking; chances.'' "Oh, do send him to our charity! bazaar." Brother: Say, Sis, do you think we ought to take father and mother to see; that play ? Sister: Oh, yes! You see, my dear, they are so pure-minded that it would be wasted on them. Frost: What's the difference between law and justice? Any? Snow: Yes. People are always talk-] ing about "in the eyes of the law," j but justice has hers bandaged. Old Gentleman (engaging new chauffeur) : 1 suppose t can write to your last employer for your character? Chauffeur: 1 am sorry to say, sir, each of the last two gentlemen I have been with died in my service. Gallant Major: It's glad I am to see ye about again, me dear lady; but what was it that was troubling ye? Convalescent: J was very, very ill, major, through ptomaine poisoning. Major: Dear, dear, now! What with that an' delirium tremens you never know what to eat or drink nowadays. Judge: Officer, what's the matter' with thu prisoner—tell her to stop that crying—she's been at it 15 minutes" (More sobs.) Officer. Please, sir, I'm a-thinking she wants to be bailed out. A lecturer, one # exceedingly rainy night, addressed an audience which might have been much larger without taxing the seating capacity of the hall. Naturally, he was willing to curtail his address, and, having reached what he considered the psychological moment, he said: "I'm afraid I've kept you too long.'' Whereupon a voice replied: "No, go on; it's still raining." 'Bus conductors in London really are acquiring some knowledge of the French language. One was heard recently addressing a somewhat startled French passenger somewhat thus: "Piccadilly Circus'? Doo pennies, ice-ee mosoo, tray byang." It seemed to give him honest j ilea sure. The suffragist, desirous of showing woman's serfdom of servitude, said:--, '' Mr Bowdle, why does a woman, when j she marries a man, take his name?") ' But Mr Bowdle, desirous to show i woman's sheltered and easy economic j position, smiled, and answered: " Why i does she take everything else he's got?" ' ' Mrs lliggius was an incurable grumbler. She grumbled at everything and I everyone. But at last the vicar thought he had found something about which she could make no complaint; the old lady's, crop of potatoes was certainly the finest! crop for miles around. "Ah, for once you must lie well pleased," he said, with a beaming smile, as he met her in the village street. "Everyone's saying how splendid your potatoes are this year." The old lady glowered at him as she j answered: ' "They're not so poor. But whore's the bad ones for the pigs?" A friendly American who has just arrived in London brings a Story of Edison. The great inventor was present at a dinner in New York to which Count Bernstorff had also found his way. The Count spoke of the number of new ships which Germany had built since the war I began, lie was listened to respectfully i enough, although a little coldly, because the sympathies of the party were not I with him or Germany. i When he had stopped, Edison looked up and said in a still, small voice, and I v.il hj a serious face: i "Must not the Kiel Canal be very {crowded, your Excellency?"

"I hear your husband delights in', fishing," gushed the effusive caller. "Oh, yes, indeed," responded her hostess. "It was only yesterday 1 said to him, 'William, you are becoming a perfect auglophobe.' "Evidently that young man'l met at your party does not know who I am,'' I remarked Mr Moneybags to his wife. What makes you think so?" "If he appreciated the extent of my financial influence he would have laughed at my jokes instead of my gram mar.'' "Yes, sir. one hour's uninterrupted i reading each evening would make you ! '' Uninterrupted! Where do you think '■ my wife spends her evenings?" The pessimist was suffering from I rheumatism. "Every bone in my body aches," he! complained. "You ought to be glad you are not] a herring," said the optimist. The Woman: Here's a wonderful thing. ] 've just been reading of a man who reached the age of 40 without learning how to read or write. " He met a woman, and for her sake he made a scholar of himself in two years. The Man: That's nothing. I know a man who was a profound scholar at 40. Then he met a woman, and for her sake he made a fool of himself in two days. "Did you hear about the defacement of Mr Skinner's tombstone?" asked Mr Brown a few days after the funeral of that eminent captain of industry. "No, what was it?" enquired his neighbour, curiously. "Someone added the word 'friends' to the epitaph.' '' What was the epitaph I '' '' 'He did his best.' '' '' But your fiancee has such a small salary; how are you going to live?" "Oh, we're going to economise. We're going to do without such a lot. of things that Jack needs." In a rural court the old squire had made a ruling so unfair that three young lawyers at once protested against such a miscarriage of justice. The squire immediately fined each of the lawyers five dollars for contempt of court. There was silence, and then an older lawyer walked slowly to the front of the room and deposited a ten-dollar bill with the clerk. He then addressed the judge as follows: "Your Honour, I wish to state that I have twice as much contempt for this court as any man in the room." "I want to be excused," said the worried-looking juryman, addressing the judge. "I owe a man "idol that I j borrowed, and as he is leaving town ! for some years, I want to catch him j before he gets to the train, and pay him the money." "You are excused," j replied the judge, in icy tones. '' I don't want anybody on the jury who can lie like that.'' The old soldier was telling of his! thrilling adventures on the field of battle to a party of young fellows, one or two of whom were sceptical as to his veracity. "Then," he said, "the surgeons took me up and laid me carefully in the ammunition waggon. You mean the ammunition waggon, and——" "Look here," interrupted one of the' doubtful listeners, "you don't mean the ammunition waggon. You mean the ! ambulance waggon." But the old man shook his head. "No," he insisted; "I was so full of: bullets that they decided I ought to go, in the ammunition waggon." John Hendricks, a siugular Western > character, awoke one morning to find' himself wealthy through a rich mining strike. Soon he concluded to broaden his mind by travel, and decided to go to Europe. Boarding the ship, he singled out the captain, and said: "Captain, if I understand the way thir here! ship is constructed, it's got several! watertight compartments?"' '' Yes, sir.'' "Water's all on the outside—can't none get in nohow?" " No, sir." "Captain," said Hendricks, decidedly, "1 want one o' them compartments —I don't care what it costs extry." On New Year's Eve, just as it was j getting dusk, a bricklayer's labourer walked down the main street of the; city. Coming to a poultry dealer's! | place, he stopped anil gazed admiringly I at the fowls and game displayed on the window slab. One turkey of about! ! Mill weigh! took his fancy. ' After rimjning his lingers through the coins in i his trousers pockets a few times he decided on having that turkey. Picking it up he entered the shop. The shojv I man was very busy. i ".lost weigh this bird for me, will | ye?" he said. "Why don't you take your birds j somewhere else to be weighed," suappily replied the poulterer, without look I | ing II] I. i "Oh, I kin do that all right." lie re- j [died, cheerfully picking the bird up ■and walking out with it. "John,'-' she asked, nestling up to! him, for it was the third anniversary o! their marriage, "what was the happiest moment of your life?" "Ah, dear," he replied, "1 remember it well. I shall never forget it. If ! Mixed to be a hundred years old that moI inent would always stand out as plainly ! as it iloes to-night. She sighed and nestled a little closer. j looking longingly up into his honest blue 'eves. After a moment's silence she. j urged: "Yes, but, John, dearest, you, ; haven't told me what it was." "Oh,"' he answered, "I thought you i I had guessed it. It was when you came! to me in the autumn, if you remember, | j and told me that you hail decided to j trim up one of your old hats so as to [make it do for the winter." I Then the celebration of the third anniversary of their marriage became exceedingly uninteresting and formal. THE MODEL HUSBAND. i She was a singer of songs and sieh, | With a voice attuned to concert pitch. She'd sing almost any time or where. With fol de-rols and an agonised air; [The words 1 could never understand. But I thought her the best girl in the: land. jl married her. And she still kept up [Singing even when she should sup. She kept up her singing and she kept up J neighbours, And I ncvir begged her to cease her, labours. jShc'd trill and ira-Ja and raise the dickens, | She'd U''t up to practice with the chickens. : But 1 never raged and 1 never com! I plained, 'And 1 always perfectly calm remained. [And I never yet have sought relict' She was a singer and 1 was deaf.