MISCELLANEOUS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VI, Issue 38, 20 September 1890, Page 20

MISCELLANEOUS.

The man who is going down hill meets lots of people with their noses turned up. There are some circles where it is only the man with the income that can come in. George : ‘ Laura, will you share my lot ?’ Laura : ‘ No, thanks ; I’ve made arrangements to be cremated.’ No one has ever discovered how many revolutions in a given time some of the Central and South American States can make. Citizen : ‘ Why don’t you clean out that gang of loafers in front of that saloon ?’ Policeman (pityingly) : ‘Guessyou inns' be near sighted. Them’s city officials. ’ Between the Acts.—Mrs Cardamon (fretfully): ‘ Surely you are not going out again ?’ Mr Cardamon (amazedly): ‘ Why, you wouldn’t expect me to order a drink sent in here, would you ?’ The Peacemaker : ‘ Don't you know it is very wrong to light, little boy? What does the good book say ?’ Tommy (who has just polished off the class bully): ‘ I dunno. 1 ain’t read any further than Davie an’ Gerhre.’ Mrs O’Shaunacy (wishing to make up a recent quarrel): ‘ Good mornin’, Mrs Flynn. Is there onything oi kin bring yez from th’ market this mornin’ ? Mrs Flynn : ‘ Phat do yez take me for—a resavyor of stholen goods ?’ Country School Trustee (to young lady applicant): ‘ Have you ever teached ?’ Young Lady : ‘ No, sir, but I think I am qualified.’ Country School Trustee: ’Twon’t do; ’twon’t do. We want someone here with a pedigree.’ ‘ There is the man,’ said De Kique, in the hotel corridor, ‘ who has done more towards the purification of polities than anybody else I know of.' ‘ How ?’ ‘He retired to private life.’ A Chronic Complaint.—Doctor: ‘What is your husband's complaint, ma’am ? Is it chronic ?’ Wife: ‘Yes, sir. 1 have never known him to be satisfied with a meal for the past thirty-five years.’ Bobby : ‘ Say, papa, 1 wish you would help me out with my lesson.’ Mr Post: ‘ I can't, Bobby ; what you learn, you should learn for yourself.’ Bobby (disgustedly): ‘And there you sit with your newspaper, picking up your opinions from tile editor !’ Still Hoping: Miss Hevyyrox : ‘No, John, I cannot listen to your love. Farewell forever!' John: ‘Might I ask one question?’ Miss Hevyyrox : ‘Yes.’ John: ‘ls this a Simon-pure farewell or one of the Patti brand ?' ‘Boy, can I go through this gate?' inquired a rather stout lady of an urchin who was swinging on a gate leading to a pretentious-looking villa the other day. * I think sae, mem,’ responded the urchin ; ‘ at least, a cairt o' coal gaed through this mornin’ !’

A Model Man.—De Baggs: ‘There goes a man who for ten years never drank liquor, used tobacco in any form, or stayed out after 9 p.m., and never missed a Sunday at church.’ De Kaggs : * A model man, indeed! Is he a missionary?’ De Baggs : ‘No; he’s an ex-convict.’ She was talking confidentially to her bosom friend : ‘ Now that we are married,’ she said, ‘ John has stopped drinking entirely. I have not detected the odour of liquor about him since our wedding-day.' ‘Was it difficult lor him to stop?' inquired the bosom friend. ‘Oh, no ; not at all. He just eats cloves. He says that is a certain cure.’'"- ....