Humor.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2017, 14 January 1887, Page 2 (Supplement)

Humor.

BV A. W. BELL AW.

The Glove of Fantasy.

I round .and pocWed her glove that on the fl.„,r laid a-, I entered. Sweet relic of the otic I Jove, on whom my thoughts are always centred A cl>r'.aalls from which has flown her perfect palm, he: finished fingers ; an odor that is all its own. so faint and due, about it lingers. Shield of a hand I wish were mine ! I gaze upon it every minute, and bold it with a clasp divine, as if that little hand was in it. And then I dream that hand is there, and breathe my vows of loving fervor; the fealty of my heart 1 swear, and that I only live to serve her. With life 'tis almoat animate, and every dimple in it's moulded—the dimpled hand, I’m grieved to state, that never in my own lay folded 1 [ bless the kid that lived and died that it might yield this pliant leather to clothe the hand for which I’ve sighed and shield it from the sun and weather. I take it with me as 1 po to call upon her; she greets me kindly, and now this precious glove 1 show and tell her that I love it blindly. She looks upon it with surprise. I give the glove an endless kissing. She opens Wide both mouth and eyes. “ Why that's the glove our black girl’s missing 1”

Dog-day Rhymes.

BY HOLLIS W. FIELD. P,low mi l ,a bronze from the frigid zone) Fend me a zephyr, a young cyclone. Straight, from the region of summer snows, Northward from where the cashier goes. Blow me a breeze from the icy wold Under the polo star, bright and cold, Where the walrus wears the thickest of hides And the polar bear on the iceberg rides. Blowme a breeze from the Greenland mount, From where ice creams aren’t things that

count On the bill of fare, and the Esquimaux Slips and shades o’er the ice and snow. Hut the weather vane points to the torrid

bolt, Andaman can do nothing but melt, melt, While he sits in the sunset’s after glow And longs for the season of Beautiful Snow,

Why Should It Be.

The good, the beautiful and true Have passed away with regrcl, But the fellow who slaps you on (he back Has never been shot dead yet. The hand of death has been laid upon Kind hearts, that have ceased to throb, But the man who has been everywhere Keeps (he sexton out of a job. We miss the man whose hand was warm, Whose words were full of hope, But the man who is always hanging around Is yet unhung to a rope. Wc mourn the man of benevolence, Whose presence brought a thrill, While the man who says, •* 1 told you so," He lives to say it still.

The warrior brave, his deeds are o'er. Which bards have praised and sung, Still the man who talks all your buttons off Yet wags the same old tongue. The queens, whose fame is earth's heritage, Are gone, and the nations grieve, But the woman who enters the church always late Will be the last to take leave. The sages of the past are fled, But their influences we trace, While the man whose word is, " Isn't it hot V Has not gone to a hotter place, 0 the good, the beautiful and the brave Have laid them down their lives, But the man who can teach an editor much Gets the shot picked out and survives 1 Tiil-Bits,

The cashier of a busings place bad occasion to leave bis desk one day, and be called the son of tbe proprietor, who was at work in another department, to take his place for an hour or two, and instructed him about how to make entries in tbe cash book, in ease any money came in, the receipts on one side and disbursements on the oilier. The boy's father came in and wanted two dollars, which tbe son pave him. and when the cashier came back he found an entry in the cash book. On one side was this: “Took in two dollars from a granger with his pants tucked in his boots.” Tbe cashier looked at the scrawl in the book and then at the cash drawer, and said, “ Well, where’s the two dollars ? ” Tbe boy thought a minute, took a pencil and wrote on the other side of the book : “ ]’a collared tbe two dollars." The cashier sighed, and the boy said, “ Well, it balances, don’t it f What mote do you want ? ” — Pock's Sun,

Bo Acquisitive.—” bee hero,” called out the bar-keeper, " you haven’t paid for that -Irink I” "True,” replied the gentleman, who was modestly retiring through the door edgewise, “true. 1 did not. It is a habit into which I have fallen in my advancing years. It is the last infirmity of noble .w pdsitive minds to absorb more than they give out.” rh) saying,, he gently but hastily closed the door just in lime I,) receive upon its resounding panels a bung starter, lemon squeezer, icepick, two beer glasses and a decanter. What promptness and what unanity," said the gentleman, pausing to drv his itps with an absent cult That bar-tender must be a human Gatling.”

Shorly after after the imposing parade of tho (i. A. K„ a veteran with a homesick look in his eve, was seen leaning against a building on Kcarny-street. " •’^ lc you sick • " inquired a sympathetic parser. ‘■No; not very. I’m only suffering with pharyngitis.” '• From hmrahing for General Sherman 1 " '■ No.” *• Logan.’ ” *• \o." " Singing • The Star Spangled Danner ’ 1 ” *• No.” Declaiming!' red. Kmcrson brooks’ poems ”No ! no 11 NOM : ” ‘‘ From what then ? " “ Drinking bonanza punches, cir.’’ When She Spoke —She was a sweetfaced blue-eyed young girl w.th great waves of golden hair brushed earefiilv back from a noble looking, snow white brow. Her ruby lips were full and sweet. Innocence itself wa* in her great blue eye*. Fair and sweet was she in all the purity and. guiltlessness of fresh young womanhood. Two yonng men have long been watching her with eager interest. Her glorious beauty baa enthralled them. “ " bat a superb girl!” said one. “ Never was lily fairer 1 How I would love to hear her speak. No‘sweet bells jangled’ could be like words she must utter with lips like those and a face like that,’’ She spoke. A friend came down the aisleand said earnestly: A cold day, NT.ss O The full reds lips parted slowly, the beautiful head turned with superb grace, a smile of seraphic sweetness illuminated the noble features, soft and sweet and low was brr artless answer; “ Welt, f should smirk to twitter I Cold aint bo ante for it,”