Humour of the Week

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXV, Issue 17756, 17 September 1927, Page 10

Humour of the Week

A Slight Mistake. Salvation Array Convert: Come on brothers, threepence more to make .1 demijohn. First Consideration. Small Dov (to mother): “Quif. Mum, come an’ roe 111’ bosker <;•-* that's run over Dad!" Naturally. Friend: “What caused the row with your husband? Young- Wire: “1 asked him to try one of my scones, and he reached for the nut-cracker.’’ “The Prisoner's Return.” Warder: “What are you thinking about?” Prisoner: “I was just tliinkin' i 1 wps c:ui(e right viiaf that bloke said about life .bein’ nothin' but a number of cells.” “Did Ho Agree?" At a London dinner party. Old Man (ignorant of n'l'icna’H.v of his neighbour): “A deplorable sign of the times is the way the English language is brans polluted by the alarming inroads of American slang. Do you not agree?’’ His Ne'ghbour: “You sure slobbered a bibful, sir.” A Reminder. Maud reached for the telephone and demanded a number. “Is thal you, Edward?" she asked, as a man's voice answered the call. “Speaking," he replied. “That you Aland?" “Yes. You remember I told you last night, that on no account would you be permitted to enter our house again?" "Shall I over forget it?" replied Edward. “Well, ve Vive decided to move, and I Ihouvlu you might, like to know our new address.” The Lady's Aran. Darkness was falling over the picturesque Scottish highlands, and the three girls who were enjoying the view from the top of the creaking stage-coach began to shiver in the evening breeze. “I say!" called the driver to the passengers below, “is there a Mackintosh down there big enough to keti three young ladies warm?" “No," came an eager voice from a head poked out of the window, “bu f therr’s a big MacPherson doon here that’s willin’ to try!” Equally Divided. He was a good-natured Irishman and was one of a number of men employed in erecting a new building.. The owner of the building. who knew-hint; said to him one day-—-"Fat, didn’t you tell me once beat a brother of yours is a bishop?” “Vis, aor," replied Pat. “4nd 'A'qu a-, hod-carrier? The good 1 thing’s of life are not equally divided, are they?” “No, sor,” said Pat, as he shouldered his hod. “Poor fellow! Mv brother couldn’t do this to save his life!” The Harvest. A visitor to a prison discovered a man he knew among the inmates. This particular prisoner had for many years swindled the publm, but in such a clever manner that it was practically impossible to lay a iharje against him. • However, he had been caught in the etui, and at a time when lie was a prominent figure in public life. Now he sat in prison making sacks, the visitor went up to him and said: “How do you do? What are you doing, sewing?’’ “No," was the reply, “reaping." Committed Suicide. “What we want to get at,” said counsel in an assault case, "is who was the aggressor.” “Eh?" said the large, bull-necked witness. “Let me explain,” said counsel patiently. “It I met you m the street and struck you in the face I should be the aggressor.” “You’re an idiot,”-, muttered the witness. “No, no, you don’t understand. Suppose I struck you without provocation, I should lie committing an act of aggression.” “Excuse me, guv’nor, you’d he committing suicide,” declared the witness, darkly.

Disappointed. Sammy Snookes had a job thal didn’t please him —shovelling the snow from the path in front of IPs house. It was quite a large path, and the job looked like taking up best part of the morning. After about two hours’ toil he began to cry. “What’s the matter, Sammy?’’ askeu a sympathetic .le.ghbour. “800-hoo!” sobbed Sammy. “A tramp came along just now and stole the shovel from the boy next door.” “Well, Sammy,” said the neighbour, “it's very kind of you to have so much sympathy, but you mustn’t let other people’s affairs upset you so.” “It ain’t that,” said Sammy. “I’m crying because he didn’t steal my shovel, too!”

Quite Likely. “What’s this paddock used for?” “It must be a football ground. I picked up three ears crossing it the other day.” Caught. First Baths Attendant: The new bloke, got the 3ack, didn’t he? Second Do.: Yes, the boss caught ’im in swimmiu’. False. The orderly officer noticed that Private Murphy had no toothbrush. “Where is your toothbrush," man?” he demanded. “Here, sor!" replied the soldier, pointing to a large scrubbing brush. “Mean to tell me you can get that thing into your mouth?” snapped the officer. “No, sor,” replied Murphy. “I take my teeth out.” An Apt Retort. A society woman called on a famous painter who, when necessity arose, could express himself with emphasis. Her ceaseless chatter did not permit him to get in a word edgeways. At length a pause to lake breath allowed him to say: "We had hailed mutton and turnips for laaci to-day.” "What a strange observation!” He woman exclaimed. “Well,” he sail, “it is as good as anything you irave ’seen saying for the last two hours.” That’s ,Tust It! At a school in (lie country, the vis'l’ng inspector was asking the children i u jstlons in ;.i oral knowledge. "Now children," lie said, “I wonder if any of you can tell me what an ‘average’ is?” There was silence, for a few minutes, then a small boy jumped up. “Please sir, I can," he said: “it’s a 1h { ng to lay eggs on.” “A thing to lay eggs on!” echoed the inspector; "what makes you say (liat.?” “Well, sir,” answered the boy, “mother says our old hen lays six eggs a week on an average.” The Question. The widow of a fanner was being consoled by a neighbouring farmer, who happened to be a v, Idower. “Cheer up, woman,” he said. “Ye're young yet and good-looldn, an’ you could soon get another husband.” “Oh. no, no,” she replied; “who would take me?” “Why, if I had a better pair of boots on, I'd run away wi’ ye rnysel’!” said the widower, gallantly. The widow, lifting her face and wiping her eyes, said, earnestly, “I wonder would John's fit you?” A Guilty Conscience. Wearily the tramp meandered up the garden path, and took off his hat to the lady-of the house. She eyed him keenly. “Look here, aren't you the man to whom I have a good, big meal one cold, bleak February morning?” she demanded, sternly. “I’m the man, mum,” was the reply. “Well, do you remember you promised to shovel all the snow out oi my garden, and then sneaked off without doing it?” “Yes, mum, an’ conscience smote me. That's the reason I tramped all the way back here through the blazing sun to finish the job.” Revenge is Sweet. Bob was cashier in a bank in a small country town. He had been engaged to Dolly Brown, but, alas! a rift came in the lute. They quarrelled. “And please remember,” said Dolly in haughty tones, as she. handed back the ring, “that wheujwe meet again we meet as strangers.” A few days later she entered the bank to cash a cheque. Bob was on duty. He took the slip of paper, eyed it back and front, and then, instead of counting out the money, handed back the cheque. His time for revenge had come. “I’m sorry, madam,” he said coldly, “but it is against the rules of the bank to cash cheques for strangers!” The Missing Dove. The preacher was an earnest man, hut he-was not above the sweet uses of advertisement. Thus it happened that at a revival meeting for “coloured gentlemen” it was agreed that when the preacher thought the excitement was its highest he should give a signal to the sexton to throw down a white dove through a hole which had been specially cut in the roof above the pulpit for that purpose. When the eventful day arrived the church was packed, and the preacher, taking for his text the words, “Like a dove,” worked his audience up to a rare pitch of enthusiasm. “Like a dove!” he shouted at the top of his voice, and at the same time rapped on the pulpit to warn the sexton that the time for the "theatrical effect” had come. After a short interval the audience was surprised and not a little amused to see a cat being lowered from the roof by a rope tied round its body. “Whar’s de dove?” the preached called out. “Inside the cat!” was the muffled response from above.

. ALPreliininary. -J A small boy, having run an errand, was asked to go another. “Eli, but I canna,”.he said, “I’m going to t’ pictures.” It was pointed out to him that it was only G o’clock, whereas the cinema did not open till half-past. “Eh.” lie repligd, “but I’ve got to go home now aiitf start to cry, an’ mother does’na ‘gave the money till half-past.” • ,/ : A Very Gfood Idea.- - The maid was leaving, and her mistress said to her, “Mary, I should like to give you a good reference, but my conscience .compels me to . state that you never .got' tlie meals ready at the proper time. Now, I wonder how I can put it in a nice way?” . <•• “Well, ma’am,” said Mary,' “you can say I got the meals the same as I got my pay.” A Mystery Solved. Two costers entered a picture gallery and paused outside a landscape dotted witii horsepien. Each horseman had a falcon attached to, his... wrist.-by a, cliain, ; . .Tlie title of the picture, was “Hawking.” • “So that’s ’ow they ’awked stuff in them days!” said one of them. ■ “Queer, ain’t it?” “Yus,” said.the other. “But I can’t make out,, mate, what exactly them blokes is tryin’ tp, ; sell.” “Must be them parr.ots ~ o’ i; theirs.” ■- ... A Good One. \ , ~ The new country constable, was, being initialed into the mysteries -of his duties by the resident who warned him to keep a jpart.ic.u-, iariy sharp look-out for intoxicated,, motorists. r ‘ “If you have any doubt ask ; tli<s,' suspect to repeat after you, a ‘Surely Susan should, suit shy Sam!’”',"' ' ‘‘Very good, sir; I’ll write., that, down.” ’ \.,, Later in the day a motor-car ‘Pull*’’ ed up outside the police station and, unloaded tlie’ new constable'vYitli aY handkerchief tied round his keadllfp" had dislocated his jaw. I '

Proper Place. First Woman: “How is ydur husband?” . , . Second Woman: “Hes ttlo dumps most of the time.” , F.W.: “What is his occupation f S.W.: “Carbage and juftK' : collector." . The Specialist Maniac; My wife uses ’s Fame Powder because Gloria Swanson recommends She wears ’s silk stockings because Corinne Griffith ■ dons- them. Siie washes her hair with ‘ J ’" s Shampoo since Clara Bow safid there was none better. , She uses •— ——’s Pomade because Gilda Gray'declares it is goodv She drives a —-Six since Betty Bronson drives one, too. -< She bought me a Saxophone wli-rai she saw a picture of Thomas Meighan playing one of the same brand. ■’ ! • It makes me mad. My wi£e>‘has no mind of her own. She’d use anything a movie star recommended. Ey tHe way. I've found the be-t make of golf clubs. Hagen uses them exclusively.