The Graphic's Funny Leaf

New Zealand Graphic, Volume V, Issue 40, 4 October 1890, Page 20

The Graphic's Funny Leaf

THE MODERN MAIDEN.

When fair Aurora calls the Dawn The golden Day to waken, And robins on the verdant lawn The early worms do rake in, And Sol begins to light the skies And tint the heaving billow, My lady in her chamber lies Asleep upon her pillow. Oh, beautious sight! A cheek so fair On snowy arms reposing. And lips just parted, rosebuds rare. Two rows of pearls disclosing. The light into her chamber streams, Its bric-a-brac adorning, And she awakens from her dreams To greet the golden morning. She springs from bed ; how fair is she All in her maiden glory, Like Venus rising from the sea, As told in classic story ; She opens her door, the charming sprite, Ami calls her brother Freddy To tell her ma the lire to light And get the breakfast ready ! When she is dressed she goes down stairs And gives the cook some orders, Then to the dining room repairs To mash the young men boarders. The breakfast over, up she springs, And tells hei ma and Hannah To wash the dishes while she sings And bangs the grand piano.

ADVANTAGES OF SQUEAKY ®OOTS.

‘Maria,’ demanded Mr Billus, ‘do you intend to wear that ridiculous hat to church this morning ?’ ‘ I certainly do, John,’ replied Mrs Billus. ‘ This is a lovely hat. There will not be a nicer one there.’ ‘ If yon go to church with that thing, Maria,’ he stormed, ‘ I’ll wear the squeakiest pair of boots I’ve got!’ * I can’t help it, John,’ said his wife sweetly. They were late at church, Mr Billus wore his squeaky boots, everybody looked round and saw the hat, and Mrs Billus was happy. Oh, woman, woman ! What fools men continue to make of themselves in thy name.

AN EMBARRASSING INTRODUCTION.

In introducing a speaker the other night, the person who made the presentation concluded the introducing speech with the following words : ‘ I have no doubt that you appreciate the opportunity which you have of listening to the discourse on the life ami character of the great statesmen, by this eloquent gentleman. I have no doubt that you will feel as grateful as I the close.’

RETURNING FROM THE HONEYMOON.

Nils Young : ‘ Won’t you put away your paper now, and talk for a while, Jack?’ Mr Young : * Yea, my love. Just wait till we get to the tunnel.'

THE ONLY TWO WHO STOOD UP.

The illiterate whites in the mountains of Tennessee and Georgia have a keen sense of humour, ami, despite their ignorance, are at times witty. It was related that Sam Small, at the end of one of his breezy sermons, requested those of his hearers who wanted to go to heaven to rise. Every one in the house but one rose. Then Sam asked those who wanted to go to hell to get up. A tall, lean mountaineer rose, and improving the opportunity for a joke, pointed a long, bony linger at Small and said: ‘lt ’pears, parson, that you and lire’s the only fellers standin’.’

UNEXPECTED MEASURE OF SUCCESS.

‘ Well,’ said the merchant to the young clerk whom he had sent out collecting, ‘ did you have any luck ?’ ‘ Some. ’ ‘ I suppose you got the amount Mr Fatherington owes ? You said he was a personal friend of yours.’ ‘ No, I didn’t get the money. The fact is, I don’t exactly know what to make of my experience there.’ ‘ How was it ?’ ‘ I went in and said : “ Mr Fatherington, I called to speak about a matter—” I didn’t get any further ; he put in with—“ That’s all right, my boy ; she is yours ; take her and be happy !” ’

‘ Clara, that horrid Mr Slick has just left. Ido think he has a lying tongue !’ ‘ I shouldn’t be surprised. I know he has false teeth.’

MISCELLANEOUS.

‘ Karl, you have been fighting ; I can see it in your eyes.’ ‘ O mamma ! you ought to see the other boy’s eyes.’ ‘ Won’t you come into my parlour ?’ said the spider to the fly. ‘ Yes,’ answered the fly, ‘ but I don’t want to go into the dining-room.’ Fanny : ‘ The papers are making a great fuss about smokeless powder now.’ Arabella: ‘ Yes, just as though we had not used it for years.’ Lady : ‘ What do you get an evening for waiting at entertainments’’ Waiter: ‘ Five shillings ; but if there is to be singing I must ask six.’ Dependent on Circumstances.—‘ What do you value that handsome spaniel at, if I may ask ?’ ‘ Well, if yon want to buy him, he’s worth £lOO ; if you’re the assessor, I I reckon he’s worth about tenpence.’ Mrs Oldboy : ‘ Oh, you needn’t talk, John. You were bound to have me. You can’t say that I ever ran after you.’ Oldboy : ‘ Very true, Maria, and the rat trap never runs after the mouse, but it gathers him in all the same.’ First Citizen : ‘ There conies Longjaw ; let’s go across the street and turn down the alley before he sees us. ’ Second Citizen: ‘ Why, I thought you were great friends?’ First Citizen : ‘ So we are now ; but he has a new story about his four-year-old boy.’ (Exeunt omnes, on the dead run.) A lady in Bordenrow, who lived near a church, was sitting by a window listening to the crickets who were loudly chirping, the music from the choir being quite audible. A gentleman dropped in who had just passed the church. ‘ How loudly they sing to-night?’ said he. ‘ Yes,’ said the lady—thinking of the crickets—‘ and they say they do it with their hin<l legs.’ Softpate : ‘ Whateher think of the dawg, Miss Sprightly ? Fine dawg that !’ Miss Sprightly : ‘Heis a splendid creature.’ Softpate : ‘ I have refused a cool hundred for him—fact, I assure you. Would it surprise you if I told you that the dawg knows as much as Ido ?’ Miss Sprightly : ‘ Not at all.’ Young wife : ‘ I am going to make a nice cake for you tonight, Thomas.’ Young husband (with recollections of the last one) : ‘ Ahem ! I did intend to bring a friend home to tea.’ Young wife : ‘ Well, so much the better: the more the merrier. ’ Young husband : ‘All right. I will bring him. He served me a mean trick himself once.’

GOOD ADVICE.

‘ I’m dreadfully upset,’ said the spilled milk. ‘ You can’t be half so agitated as I am,’ retorted the Irish question. ‘ Do as I do,’ said the door as he shut himself up.

OUR SUMMER RESORT.

Helen : ‘ Oh, Ethel ! There’s a Man-of-War coming directly towards ns.’ Ethel : ‘Do let me take the glass ! I have been here six weeks and it is the first man of any kind I have seen.’

HOW SHE FOUND HIM OUT.

‘ You told me you didn't smoke, George,’ she said reproaehfully. ‘ Who says I do?’ he asked indignantly. ‘ Nobody, but I distinctly felt several cigars being crushed into dust in your vest pocket when you hugged me that time.’ And he owned up.

DRAWING.

Two strangers were talking on the cars, and one was a portrait painter. After some time the other inquired the painter’s business. ‘I am an artist,’ he replied modestly. ‘ Ah,’ said the other, ‘ what do you draw ?’ ‘Faces.’ ‘ Ami I am an artist,’ continued the other. ‘Ah,’ exclaimed the painter, with a smile of interest, ‘and pray, may I ask, what do you draw’’ ‘ Teeth,’ said the other. ‘lam a dentist.’ Then the artist got up, and left the seat.

TIME TO REFLECT.

Harry : ‘ Dearest, pardon me my presumption, but I’ve long looked upon you with loving eyes. Will you be mine?’ Dearest : ‘ Really, Harry, this is so sudden, you know—you must give me time for reflection.’ Harry-: ‘ Nonsense, dearest ; you’ll have time enough for reflection after we are married—and for that matter, probably, so shall I.’

DISGUSTED THE PARSON.

Village parson (entering country editor’s office) : ‘ You promised to publish that sermon I sent you Monday, but I did not find it in the latest issue of your paper. ’ Editor: ‘ I sent it up. It surely went in. What was the name of it ?’ Parson: ‘ Feed my Lambs. ’ Editor (after searching through the paper) : ‘ Ah—yes—um—here it is. You see, we’ve got a new foreman, and he put it under the head of “ Agricultural Notes,” as “Hints on the Care of Sheep.” ’

Uncle Jeff. : ‘ Look a’ heah, you Hen’y Clay White, How many times has I tole yo’ smoken’ ’ll snawten yo’ life mo’n half?’ Young H. C. : ‘ Well, Unc’ Jeff, yo’ been smoken’mos’ all yo’ life, an’ yo’ is a putty ole man.’ U. J. : ‘ Dat's all right, you fool nigga’! I’se eighty-fo’ now, an’ ef I had’n’ smoked when I was a boy' I might’ a’ been mo’n a hundred years ole by dis time.’