WIT and HUMOUR

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 75, Issue 178, 30 July 1932, Page 17 (Supplement)

WIT and HUMOUR

Fortune-tell er lined: Prophet and »OoS. * * V * * Barber (surveying top of customer’s head): “Hair-cut or polish, sir!’' “So Joe was the life of the party.’’-' “Yes. Ho was the only one who could talk louder than the radio.’’ “I am more and more convinced that my busband married me for my money.” “Then, you have the consolation of knowing he’s not so stupid as he looks.” “He claims his wife was intractable, your Honour, so he beat her into sub jection with a golf club.” “In Low many strokes!” asked the judge with new interest. “Doctor, .1. was surprised to hear that Airs. Jones died from heart disease. 1 thought you wore treating her for pneumonia.” “Pure gossip, Mrs. Brown. When I treat a patient jor pneumonia that patient dies of pneumonia.” New Tenant: “The joof is so bad that it rains on my head. How long is this going to continue?” Landlord: “What, do you think 1 am—a weather prophet?” « ♦ * * o’Callins: “Shure, an’ he’s a foiue, healthy bhoy, an’ the neighbours say he’s the very image of me.” O’Malley: “Well, now, what’s the harm in that if the child’s healthy.” Book Salesman: “Now, sir, this book of universal knowledge will tell you everything you ought to know.” Householder: “No good to me —my wife tells me all that and a lot more besides.” One Better.

“My father is a great musician,” said young Freddy to the little girl he met at the seaside. “When he whistles hundreds of people stand still and listen. ”

“When my father whistles thousands leave off work,” said tho little girl. “I don't believe you,” said Freddy peevishly. “It’s true, though,” said the little girl. “He blows the whistle at the factory where ho works.” Paying Her Way. Mother and the children were in the hall waiting to start the Easter holiday motor tour. Presently sounds of wrath came from father’s room. The maid rushed up the stairs. “What, is it, sir?” she asked. Master’s head protruded from under tho bed. “Look here,” he said breathlessly. “I pay you fifty pounds a year anjl all found, don’t I?”

“Why, yes, sir,” said the girl timidly.

“Then, hang it all. find my collarstud!” be snapped.

A Tunny Joke. A mar. from the country visiting WangMSi became friendly with the clerk in his hotel, and the two frequently regaled each other with jokes and Tiddies. Ono day the clerk called the other man over and said: “Here’s a good riddle for you. My mother and father had a child, but it wasn’t my brother and it wasn’t my sister. Who was it! “I don’t know. Who was it?’’ “It was me.’’ The man from the country was much amused, and upon his return home he tried the joke on one of his friends. “Look here,” he said, “I heard a jolly good riddle in Wanganui. I’ll spring it on you. My mother and father had a child and it wasn’t my brother and it wasn’t my sister. Who was it? Give up? Give up?” “Yes, I give up.” “Ha! ha! It was the blooming hotel clerk in Wanganui. Ha! hal”

Half Cut Rates. “Afternoon, guv’nor!” said the tramp to the householder. i ‘Got a little job I could do for a few pence?” The householder looked thoughtful. “Yes,” he replied. “Cut the lawn in front hero, and I’ll give you a shilling.” The tramp set about tho task, but after he had cut half the lawn he became tired and, pushing aside the lawnmower, went and asked the householder for Bis money. The latter gave him sixpence. “ ’Ere, guv’nor,” said the tramp, looking at the sixpence, “ ’arf a mo ’ — ’ ’ “That’s right —half a mow, half pay,” shot back the householder. The Number on the Car. A garage proprietor saw a man pushing a ear along the road towards his establishment. As it drew near he recognised the man as one of his customers. “What’s wrong, sir?” he asked. “I’ve brought this car back that I purchased from you last week,” panted the customer. The garage proprietor looked puzzled. “Why?” he asked. “Why?” echoed the other fiercely. “When 1’ bought the thing and saw the number 176 U on the back. I thought it was the registration number; but when 1 started driving tho car I camo to the conclusion it was the year of manufacture.” A Hopeless Case. h was midnight. In the smokingroom of a dub a young man sat huddled in a chair. A friend entered. “Hollo, Smith!” he asked cheerfully, “not going home yet?” “No.” muttered the despairing one. “I—l daren’t.” “Why, what’s the matter?” “Matter? It’3 tho end of everything. Lt means ruin!” “Here, tell me what’s up. Perhaps 1 can helep you.” Smith clenched his fists until his knuckles showed white. “No one van help me.” he said. “I’ve come to the end of all things! \t eight o’clock 1 telephoned to my wife and gave her a perfectly good

excuse for not coining straight home, and”—his voice sank to a whisper—“l’ve forgotten what. I said.”

A: “Is yuur ofiice-boy steady?” B: “Steady. He’s almost motionless.” ' '-I ■ ; . “Vo; I’ve got scruples.” “J don’t mind—l’ve had them twice.” | “Your husband has a new suit.” “No, he hasn’t.” “Well, something’s different.” “It’s a new husband.” William. “Dv spectacles help your eyes?” Henry: “Do they? Why, they’ve kept three fellows from bitting me!” Smith: “Should wives bo paid wages?’ ’ Brown: ‘ ‘ Most decidedly! What do you think 1 sent my wife out to work for?” Suitor: “Don’t reject nie or J shall certainly Jose my reason. ” She: ‘ 4 Don’t do that—small objects are so difficult to find again.” New Lodger: “By the way, Mrs. Hash, I have a few idiosyncrasies.” Landlady: “That’ll be all right, sir. I’ll see that they arc carefully dusted. ’ ’ 4r # # # Mrs. X: “My husband lets me have the JiMst word in clothes and in conversations.” Mrs. Y: “Then, iny dear, you have the last word in husbands.” Two spinsters were discussing men. “Which would you desire most in a husband—brains, wealth, or appearance?” asked one. “Appearance,’ snapped the other, “and the sooner the better.” Self-condemned. He was before the magistrate on a charge of furious driving. “Guilty or not guilty?” he was asked. “Not guilty, sir.” “Ever been charged before?” asked the magistrate. “No, sir.” he replied. “I’ve never driven furiously before.” No Cause to be Afraid. £hc was gazing with the eyes of a hero-worshipper at the new M.P. “Were you frightened when you got up to make your very first election speech?” sho asked. “What should frighten me?” ho asked off-handedly. “The audience, of course,” she continued. “The audience left as soon as my name was announced,” he frankly replied.

Teacher: ‘‘What tense ia *1 am beautiful’?” Pupils: “Past. Miss.” * * • * Employer: “Ever done any publie speaking/’’ Applicant: “Well, 1 once 1 proposed to a girl over the telephone.” * * « « Jack: “Here’s a book on etiquette for you.’’ Jim. “I won’t need it; I’m getting married to-day.” * « « • “Did you have measles than Bobby Jnr.s?” “Much worse, grandma. J. had them in the holidays.” Reporter: “You started in «. small way?” Big Business Man: “Yes, my mother tolls me 1 weighed only six pounds.” • Jimmy: “Well. 1 will say that T ! have a pretty good opinion of myself.” Bertie: “Yes; you never have studied yourself very much, I suppose.” Registrar of Marriages (to youthful bridegroom): “Now. the young lady if not a minor, is she?” Bridegroom; “Oh, no; she works in a fish shop!” The telephone operator answered •» agitated summons from a call-bo J “Oh, miss,” came a tearful plea, “ca J have my penny back? Jim wouldn' speak to me!” Mr Plane: “Don’t you think it i* about time the baby learned to say ‘papa’?” Mrs. Plane: “Oh. no! I don’t intend to tell him who you ar© until he becomes a little stronger.” ♦ * © * • Mind Reader: “Now 1 have finished your reading—fixe shillings, please.” Client: “Sorry, but if you had correctly read my mind when 1 came in here you would have known I didn’t have five shillings with me.” * * « ♦ The wireless novice’s apparatus refused to work, und an expert neighbour was called in. “Have you tHed putting i sixpence under the valve setting?” ho suggested. The adjustment was made, and the novice listened again. For a moment there was silence. Thon a voice was heard: 4‘Aberdeen calling.” • ••••• What Love Can Do. “It’s astonishing what loxe can d<* to some people. Take young Smith for instance. He says that he’s met the one girl in all the world for him, prettier than any film star, and her name, he tnld me, conjures up a vision of the radiant countryside, hedgerows laden with blossom, nestling cottages, larks soaring up from flower-dotted meadows, cosy farms down quiet lanes, and—all that sort of thing!” “And what’s the girl’s name?” “Bull!”