Wit and Humour.

Western Star, Issue 1182, 3 September 1887, Page 2 (Supplement)

Wit and Humour.

Literary raah-on peare mean by his frequent use of JJifie phrase, Go to?’ ’’ Mattcr-of fact Husband —“ Well, perhaps he thought it wouldn’t bo polite or proper to finish the sentence.”

Why is love popping the question like a tailor running a hot iron over a suit of clothes? —Because he is pressing a suit.

“So you have a step-mother P” she said to the little girl of seven. “ Yes.” “ Well, I feel sorry for you.” “ Oh, you needn't!” replied the little one. “ Please feel sorry for pa!”

A Philadelphia paper asked “la there a wife in the city to-day wbo makes her husband’s shirts ?” The following answer was received by return mail—" I do, but be won't

wear ’em.”

An apothecary, who used to value himself on his knowledge of drugs, assorted that all bitter things were hot. “ No,” said a gentleman present, “ there is one of a very different quality; a bitter cold day. “ Do you like lambs ?’’ he asked her in a pastoral voice daring a lull in the conversation. They had been discussing the charms of country life. “ No,” she answered, “ I don’t like the meat, but I’m passionately fond of the gravy.”

“My husband was poetical," said the widow, “ and often expressed a wish to die in the eternal solitudes, soothed by the rhythmic melodies of nature’s unutterable harmonies, and yet be was killed by the explosion of a can of kerosene.” The difference between honour and discretion is that honour tells you not to hit a man when he’s down, and discretion warns you to be careful about hitting a man when he isn’t down, and it also tolls you when you’ve got him down to keep him there. A story is current regarding the pride of a well-known impresario. At a certain rehearsal the tenor said to the chief, “ That aria is a little too high for me.” ” Oh, transpose it a tone !” was the reply, “ A half-tone," pursued the tenor, “ will suit me perfectly.” “ Sir," retorted the manager, proudly drawing himself up, “ in my theatre wo do nothing by halves.”

Aid i- this to be the end of a IP” sad o’B.eilly Do Vere, as he seized the girl’s hand. “ That is about the size of it,” she replied, coldly. “You tell me that your employer has refused to raise your salary ?” “ Yes,” criedi the youth, eagerly; “but next year- ”, “ Excuse rae,” she interrupted, with Arctic frigidity, “ but I am not investing in futures —not this week.”

“My dear,” said a fond father to his fashionable daughter, who ia soon to be married, “ if George should at some future time meet with reverses, and his fortune should be swept away, which occasionally,' , occurs to silver mine speculators, could you meet with the emergency ? Could you, for instance, go into the kitchen and make a loaf of bread ?” “ What a foolish papa 1” replied the dear girl, brightly; “ why, I should send ; to the baker’s for it!”

A pretty little girl, in whose cheap and plain dress the child of a labourer could be recognised, contemplated, in company with her mother, the rich show window of a toy store on the boulevard. Her mother, pointing at the biggest and most richly-dressed of the dolls, said, " You would like to have that, wouldn’t you, Louise ?” “ Oh, no, mamma, not that one; it’s too well-dressed for me,”. “And what difference does that make to you ?” “ Why, I’d want to be my dolly’s mamma, and not her nurse-maid.”